Sometimes Disruption Is an Invitation
This week something happened that shook me. Someone’s perception of me challenged something I hold deeply.
My integrity.
And for a moment, it hurt like hell.
I am not going to dress that up or make it tidy. It hurt. I sat with that hurt. It interrupted my sleep and really made me question reality. And I think it is interesting that when this kind of hurt happens it can often end at anger. Don’t get me wrong, I was pissed. But the way that my mental health is configured, anger is a dangerous place for me to park. It becomes depression and I am not going back there. So I did what I do in times of crisis.
I went to my village. And my village showed up as they always do. Mentors. Therapists. Friends. Sisters in Christ. They showed up.
And what I love about my village is that they skipped the platitudes and the generic “you’ve got this” energy that sounds good but lands flat. They showed up with specificity and receipts. With the kind of certainty that only comes from people who have actually watched you work, watched you lead, watched you show up even when it cost you something and there was no return on the investment. They reminded me of what I know to be true about myself when I had temporarily misplaced it.
And here is what they reminded me.
Someone else’s revisionist history does not get to rewrite what I know to be true about myself. I know how I showed up for this person, the work I did that they will never see, the intentions and advocacy I brought, and the integrity I maintained. Thank God for my village because they poured, cracked jokes, broke bread with me and cleaned the distorted lens I was viewing myself through. They reminded me that I have done the internal and emotional work and have arrived at a place, finally, where I do not need someone else’s agreement to validate what I know about myself.
That is sovereignty. And in the moment that rocked me, I misplaced it like we misplace the cellphone that is actually safely in our hands. Don’t give me that look, I know I am not the only one.
The thing about sovereignty is that it is so very quiet. It does not announce itself because it is not performing for anyone. It just lives in the way I move and think. So when this disruption happened and I temporarily saw myself through a faulty lens, my equilibrium was thrown off. But I was able to find my way back to me again.
Here is what else the disruption revealed.
My village. The people who know me, pour into me, and consistently remember who I was when I temporarily forgot. That kind of clarity about who belongs in your life is a gift, even when the wrapping paper is ugly.
And then the other thing. The thing that is harder to say out loud.
Everybody cannot come with you into your next chapter. Some relationships are seasonal. Some people belong in one part of your story and not the next, and knowing when to let someone off the bus is discernment. It is part of the work.
At this point in my life, I am entering my Authorship Era.
I have spent decades checking boxes. Building. Achieving. Showing up for everyone and everything with my whole chest. But in this era I am asking different questions. What do I really want when I am pleasing no one? What do I want to build for myself instead of a corporation? Who do I want beside me as I take this journey, especially when it gets messy? What do I want my legacy to actually feel like?
I found my answers. And a life that feels unmistakably mine.
Which is why I am done auditioning for my value. Professionally, relationally, everywhere. I know what I bring. You can choose me or not choose me. Neither changes what I know about myself. And if you choose to craft a narrative about me that leaves out critical pieces, that says more about you than it does about me.
The beauty of this lesson is that it is yours too.
Maybe you are sitting in disruption right now and it is hurting and making you angry. That is real. Feel your emotions. But consider this. That disruption could also be revealing something. Your strength. Your boundaries. Your people. Your purpose. Your next chapter. Get quiet enough to ask what it is showing you. Because sometimes the thing that shakes you is the very thing that reminds you of exactly who you are. And when you remember that, what comes next is transformation.
It was for me.
Before I share my transformation, I want to stop and say thank you.
To everyone who has followed me here on WordPress, who has read these words, shared them, saved them, or sent them to a friend who needed them. You showed up for this writing consistently and that has meant more than I can adequately say. This community was never lost on me. Every comment, every click, every quiet moment where something I wrote landed for you — I carried all of it.
I came to WordPress in a season when I was looking for my authentic voice. Academia had done a thorough job of convincing me that my natural voice, the one that is funny and direct and sassy and maybe a little too honest for some, was not serious enough to matter. Writing here proved otherwise. You proved otherwise. And what you gave me was the courage to take that voice somewhere it could finally show up complete.
So recently I made several decisions. And I am at peace with every single one of them.
I resigned from a job I held for 14 years. I had been auditioning for acceptance in a space that was never designed to fully see me. And I am done with auditions.
That also means I am done splitting myself into digestible pieces for different audiences in different spaces. I am a fiction writer in private, a leadership voice on LinkedIn, the woman who writes to help other women find their way back to themselves here — all of that is me. All of it has always been me. And for the first time I am putting all of it in one place.
I am moving all of my writing to Substack. Because it is where I have chosen to show up as a complete person. The people who subscribe will get the full version of Dr. Nichelle Bowes. The writing that makes you think, the stories that pull you in, the honest conversations about leading and living and finding your way back to yourself when you have temporarily misplaced her.
Sometimes disruption is not sent to destroy you. It is sent to transform you.
This one transformed me.
If you want to continue on the journey with me, come find me on Substack. The Authorship Era has officially begun. And if this is where we part ways, thank you for every moment you spent reading my work as I rediscovered my authentic voice. I have it back now, thanks to you letting me experiment on these pages.
My deepest gratitude,
— Dr. B.
