02/09/2026
When I was seven I forgot an entire tap routine on stage. 🖤
Hello Dolly. Me and my friend Jackie. Both my parents in the audience, which almost never happened, because my dad rarely showed up for the things that mattered.
I stepped out, looked at them, and every rehearsed move vanished.
My feet had a life of their own. But my hands kept swaying. And I kept the smile on, perfectly, for the entire routine - out of step from the first beat to the last, pretending nothing was wrong and praying it would end.
I learned something that afternoon that took me thirty years to unlearn. That love was earned through perfect performance and lost through visible failure.
So I got very, very good at "swanning while drowning".
Graceful on top. Paddling like mad underneath. Power suits, high heels, always the youngest in the room and always the most composed one in it. Making it look effortless so nobody could see the padding.
By senior leadership my swan act was flawless. It was also exhausting, and it was costing me everything that was not visible.
Here is the thing about swanning. Everyone congratulates you for it. Nobody ever asks if you can swim.
Your take today: name one place this week you performed "fine" when you were not. You do not have to tell anyone but yourself.
Swanning While Drowning is Chapter 3. Link in bio.
Send this to someone who makes it all look effortless. ✨