I used to be the kind of HR professional who left the holiday party early for “plausible deniability.” Not because I dislike people, because I like my career. For years, I wore “strictly professional” like armor. Polished and helpful but carefully contained. The version of me that could survive any meeting but rarely sparked one.
Then I took a corporate hiatus, did the solo-consultant thing for years (where you quickly learn you can’t outsource your personality), and eventually came back into an org role (because health benefits are a thing.)
And THEN I LEARNED that once you’ve been fully yourself for a while, it’s impossible to crawl back in the beige box. So, I didn’t. After all, I didn’t come back to an HR role, so why not be me?
I started my return as an Instructional Designer with zero ambition to “climb.” I genuinely would have retired happily an ID, making learning that felt like someone cared. I brought the humor, used intentionally and appropriately. The odd metaphors. The creative swings that don’t always land but do wake the room up.
But leadership came knocking anyway. And leadership has a funny way of making you visible, whether you like it or not. And as I became more visible, I worried authenticity would read as unprofessional. Because we’ve all met the person who confuses “authentic” with “unfiltered,” and now there’s a policy named after them.
But authenticity isn’t oversharing, it’s alignment. It’s being the same person in the hallway, the meeting, and the quiet moment where you decide what you will and won’t tolerate. It’s creating work that looks like it was made by a human being, not a committee of nervous squirrels. Also, can we retire the idea that professionalism equals joylessness? If your workplace can’t handle a well-timed joke or a creative idea without calling it “distracting,” that’s not professional. That’s fragile.
For me, creativity at work isn’t a “nice-to-have.” It’s an oxygen line. When I make a meeting or communication engaging, it’s not for theatrics. It’s because attention is expensive now. If you’re asking people to give you their focus, you owe them value. Clarity. Momentum. A reason to care.
Here’s what surprised me the most: when you show up a little more you, you don’t just change your work, you change what finds you.
Better collaborators. Braver conversations. Opportunities that match your strengths. Sometimes even people who feel like relief, not a role you have to play.
If you, like me, are trying to navigate this without blowing up your credibility, try a simple lens:
Build the SKILL to communicate your style, expand the NETWORK that rewards it, say yes to ACTIVITIES that let you experiment, and collect KNOWLEDGE that sharpens your edge.
You don’t need to become a different person. You need to become a clearer one.
So, where are you still “beige” at work on purpose, and what would happen if you brought one more honest color in this week?
