Table of Contents
Another Week
The word I chose to focus on this week was outreach. Inviting people to join in. Welcoming them. Thinking about how it shows up on social media, in professional settings, and in my coaching community, in my personal life, for business development, and with my clients.
The Cafeteria
When I was in middle school, the cafeteria was a tough place for me to navigate. Fears of eating alone. Sitting at a table by myself with no one to talk with. Those awkward teenage years.
I remember walking in and looking for some friendly faces, hoping someone would invite me to join them, or just standing there waiting, not exactly sure where to turn. I wasn’t bold enough to just sit down or ask, “Is it okay if I eat lunch with you?”
If there wasn’t anyone there that I felt comfortable with, I would try to find a table with enough distance, with enough seats, that I could sit there without bothering anyone. I didn’t want to crowd the other kids. I wanted to disappear into the background. I didn’t want to be teased. There were cliques and the cool kids, just easy and natural with each other. But since I wasn’t part of the in-crowd, I didn’t have set or assigned seating. Every day was a scramble to see where I belonged, or didn’t.
As tough as that was, there were at least some signs I could pick up on and things I could do with my physical body. I could wait for a pause in a conversation. I could approach a table and stand there for a moment, slightly sideways. I could look for a friendly face or catch someone’s eye and see if there was a connection. If there was a nod or a smile, I knew what it meant. And if they turned away or looked down, I kept moving.
There was feedback.
Social Media as a Lunchroom
Part of the challenge I’m finding on social media, whether it’s Substack or LinkedIn, is that I haven’t figured out how to navigate the lunchroom. I don’t know how to read the room.
I find myself wondering how much I should post, how much I should comment, how much I should like. And when I do engage, should I like everything one person is putting out, or is that overloading them? I watch the feeds the platforms put in front of me. Some of the content I like, some I comment on, but it doesn’t feel like a community. It just feels like a bunch of people sitting at other lunch tables, and I’m standing there with a tray in my hands, still looking for a seat.
I don’t want to invite myself to a table and just sit down. I don’t want to be seen as rude. And I don’t want to be seen as a spammer or inauthentic. At the same time, I do want an audience. I would like people to follow me or subscribe to me, to be seen, so that metaphorically, I have someone to eat lunch with.
I also want to write for myself. I enjoy it. I see what other people produce and how smart, clever, knowledgeable, or funny they are. I don’t want to emulate or copy them. I don’t want to teach, and I don’t want to “deliver value.” I like sharing my experiences and letting that be the lesson in and of itself.
I have a somewhat contrarian nature. I find myself running at ninety degrees to everyone else at times.
I’ve been reading about guidelines for how people tend to engage on Substack. The 10-5-1 idea. Ten likes, five comments, one post. Don’t be a spammer. Don’t like fifty or a hundred things or your account might get shut down. Be authentic. Reply to comments on your notes and posts. Be timely.
And yet, it still feels uncomfortable. So I’ve been throwing spaghetti at the wall, seeing what sticks. Quite frankly, not a lot.
What I find most unsettling is the absence of feedback, those visible social cues. It feels like I’m still eating my lunch alone. It’s only been a couple of weeks, and I’ll keep trying, but right now outreach on social media feels like trying to find a table to sit at with a couple of other people.
Onewaytionships
A former colleague told me this week that they were looking for a new job because there weren’t opportunities for them at their current company. They talked about wanting a senior person to be an advocate for them, to open doors, point out opportunities, or help create them, to mention their name at the right time in the right rooms. Not so much a mentor, but a sponsor.
They had reached out to a number of senior individuals, initiated conversations, and shared their experience, hopes, and vision for the future. But there was no reciprocity.
The senior individuals didn’t engage, or if they did, there was no follow-up. It was all one-way. It seemed to my former colleague that nobody cared. That’s painful.
Even after trying repeatedly and putting recurring meetings on calendars, there was no initiation from the senior members. Maybe they thought there was too much risk, reputational or otherwise, to advocate. Maybe it was too much effort with not enough benefit. Or maybe they didn’t realize what their lack of engagement was costing.
The questions that rattle around in my head after hearing this are:
- What have they really done to reach out?
- How are they being received or perceived?
- Are these even the right people to be advocates?
- Is it the environment, the culture, the company?
- Would it be any different somewhere else?
- Is it the right move to get the hell out of there?
I don’t know what the answers are. What does feel obvious is that when relationships aren’t mutual, they become corrosive. In this case, the lack of reciprocal outreach will most likely lead to the end of what could have been a long and productive career at one company, unless something fundamentally changes.
What a shame.
Welcome
I joined the International Coaching Federation in April 2025 for several reasons, including credentialing, ongoing education, learning how to develop my business, and networking. But the thing that has kept me coming back is the community.
A few weeks ago, there was an ICF NYC chapter meeting. I joined a breakout room on membership engagement. I didn’t have a chance to share my thoughts, but I asked the chair if she’d like to get together afterward, and she accepted. We spent some time bouncing ideas off each other, and she invited me to join the committee and help with an upcoming New Member welcome event.
That event was this week. I gave a short testimonial about my experiences, shared which events I attend, and invited the new members to come to at least one of them. I promised that if they did, they wouldn’t be alone. They’d see a friendly face. I’d say hello. They were welcome.
Two days later, I went to an event and three of them showed up. I welcomed them, they were easily accepted into the group, and we spent some wonderful time together. Outreach in this case was natural and organic. It was face to face.
I remember going to my first ICF event and feeling intimidated. Here were professional coaches making their livelihoods through this work. I didn’t know what to expect or when to chime in. What I wanted for these new members was to break the ice, to welcome them into the conversation, and to let them know they were already part of the group.
All it took was two sentences and a smile.
That’s Enough for Now
Outreach was at the forefront of my mind this week, and these are just a few of the ways it showed up.
If you want to contemplate outreach in your own life, here are a few prompts to play with:
- What does it mean to reach out?
- Where do you withdraw?
- What does it mean to fall short?
- How might one of your relationships change through welcoming, inviting, or reciprocating?
A Small Note
I think of these experiences like refilling a pillbox. Each one is a vitamin I take to stay healthy. When I fill it, I repeat a small mantra I’ve been saying for years:
Another week.
This week, I’m putting these vitamins into my pillbox:
- Reciprocity: initiating for the sake of the relationship
- Welcoming: inviting others into conversation
- Being with: helping create environments where we can simply be with each other