The very first time I got in trouble at work had nothing to do with my job performance.
Let me take you back about 10 years ago, when I was hired to a small team of specialized caseworkers, and could spot the social hierarchy before we finished introductions.
Within my first week, I understood this was the kind of team culture where you didn't just do your job well; you had to play a role.
And whatever role you were given, you need to perform it in the cramped cubicles.
Everything was fine until we moved to another building.
We left a quiet, plant-filled corner on the second floor for a repurposed warehouse with 50+ other caseworkers in cubicles, making calls and sending faxes, overlaid by the stench of dry-erase markers and industrial-strength cleaner.
…All under inescapable fluorescent lights. 😭
I started to work intermittently from home.
In a turn of events that should surprise no one ever, I found myself to be the most peaceful (and productive) ever.
With endless tea and no interruptions, I could think clearly and deeply about high-stakes cases, soothe distraught families over the phone, write well-researched court reports, and respond quickly to collateral partners who mattered most.
Well, until I got in trouble for it.
My boss informed me that my growing absence from the cubicles was impacting team cohesiveness, as I wasn’t “available” to my peers.
(As if we didn’t have a group text thread pinging in my pocket.)
For years after, I thought my preference for working deeply, independently, and intensely was something I needed to fix, hide, or downplay.
But I was evaluating myself through someone else's definition of what a "good employee" should look like.
In retrospect, my preferred way of working kept me performing at a high level when the stakes were raised, crises were unavoidable, and I ended most days emotionally spent. 😮💨
And now?
This way of working has become the foundation of my career.
But I didn’t make this connection until I was updating my own messaging with the help of a second set of (very astute) eyes*. 👀
Because when your message finally “clicks”, you realize:
Your most overlooked differentiator is often the very thing you learned to downplay to fit in.
That’s where I come in as your Messaging Strategist.
The first thing I'll say: Stop hiding the very skills that make you remarkable.
Then, we'll uncover the professional edges you've learned to dull down to get the paycheck or keep the peace, and turn them into words that attract clients who want exactly what you bring to the table.
So if you're nodding along, and...
- Reading your website and thinking, "This doesn't feel like me,"
- Feeling frustrated that the wrong people keep landing in your inbox
- Struggling to explain what you do without jargon + fluff
- Wondering why clients reach out but never follow up
You probably haven't identified your Misfit Factor. 🖤
These are strengths, instincts, and professional skills that once felt "out of place" or "too different", but are actually what make you exceptional.
When you're ready to put that into words, complete this form to get started.
Long live the former workplace weirdos, 🖖🏼
xo Ari
P.S. Call me when you want what once made you an outsider to be the reason clients line up at your door. Start with a custom proposal.
P.P.S. Credit where it’s due! The astute eyes → Kendall Cherry 🍒