When I first heard the term “covering” in class, I felt seen, but also exposed. For as long as I’ve been in the corporate world, I’ve been navigating the unspoken expectations of how I “should” show up — the way I speak, how I wear my hair, when (or if) I should use humor, how assertive I can be before it’s considered too much. These calculations aren’t unfamiliar to someone like me. I’m a Black woman, the descendant of enslaved people, working in spaces where there are rarely others who look like me.
There’s pride in being one of the few. Sometimes I feel like, “Wow, I made it. I belong here.” Other times, I question whether I truly do, or if I’ve just learned to contort myself well enough to survive. The truth is, I often cover at work. Not because I want to, but because it’s what I’ve felt I had to do to be seen as professional, capable, and “leader-like.” This class helped me name that tension.
Self-regulation is different. That’s when I hold back a joke in a serious meeting because it’s not the right time. It’s thoughtful. Empowering. A choice. Covering, though, is when I withhold humor altogether because I’m worried it might make me seem less competent. One is rooted in awareness. The other is rooted in fear.
That distinction hit me.
As I reflect on how I want to lead, I know I want to operate more from a place of self-regulation. I want to be authentic without carrying the internal conflict that so often comes with showing up in spaces that were never built with me in mind. That means continuing to build emotional intelligence and self-awareness, not just for me but to help others feel safe being themselves too.
Thinking of authenticity as something fluid instead of fixed also helped shift my perspective. It reminded me that I don’t need to show up the same way in every setting to be real. I just need to stay grounded in my values. I’m still figuring out if I’ve ever worked somewhere that truly aligns with those values. But I know now that part of growing as a leader is learning how to tell the difference between adjusting for the sake of professionalism and silencing myself out of fear.
That clarity has made me more intentional about creating space for others. I want people to feel free to speak up, to bring their whole selves, to offer ideas without wondering if they need to filter their identities first. That kind of culture doesn’t just happen. It takes effort and courage.
And I’m learning how to give both of those things to myself, too.
This post is part of my 🎀 Power in Pink: My MBA Leadership Journal series.
