Step into Your Moxie. Alexia Vernon
much of my life, even as I grew a business dishing out career and leadership advice to other women, I was insanely uncomfortable speaking up and being seen by the people around me. Simultaneously, and frustratingly, I was someone who pushed herself to excel. I entered and won talent shows, scholarships, student council races, and even the Miss Junior America Pageant. Growing up with an abundance of love and a ton of privilege left me frequently feeling guilty and embarrassed, if not downright ashamed, for my feelings of not-enoughness, which rode shotgun next to my insatiable desire to perform like a dressage horse and win.
What I’ve learned through my work is that too many women, irrespective of our backgrounds and the privileges afforded us, are doing this super awkward Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde routine. We flip-flop between demonstrating our supposed confidence and experiencing near-paralyzing insecurity. While we might fear that if we speak up we’ll underwhelm or offend, the mental torture we put ourselves through is usually far worse than any communication coming from us.
A woman would need to have been stuck in a cryonics chamber for the past few years not to have been confronted with the litany of media, books, and courses telling her why she struggles with her confidence and influence — despite women in industrialized nations being more educated, earning more money, starting more businesses, and running for public office in greater numbers than ever before. Over the past few years, millions of women have spoken up on behalf of our rights and the rights of others. But it’s one thing to show up to a march or broadcast your views in a social media post. It’s an altogether different thing to tell yourself, and actually believe, that you possess the power and ability to advocate for yourself — especially if you are in an environment, professionally or personally, in which the people around you are complicit in maintaining the status quo. Media outlets such as CNN, PBS, and Inc. predicted that 2018 would be “the year of the woman,” but how many of us really feel like we have the moxie we need to consistently speak up, tell our truth, and create the future we want for ourselves and our loved ones?
There has been no shortage of experts promising women tools for presenting our ideas more successfully, advocating for social change, and shifting our self-talk from self-critical to self-compassionate. Yet in conversations with my coaching clients, and with the smart, savvy entrepreneurial and professional women I meet through my presentations and trainings, I hear the same refrain over and over: I can’t stop my cray-cray self-talk — or the verbal vomit it often produces when I open my mouth to speak.
Okay, not exactly their words, but you get the gist.
Despite how we might puff up and posture, too many of us are powering through our lives with wretched self-confidence, and we are not fulfilling our potential or squeezing all the juice out of our lives as a result. We are overdue for a new paradigm for our empowerment, one that recognizes the impact of sexism, racism, classism, and all the other isms that have not gone away — and in many cases are actively being stoked. A paradigm that provides a holistic pathway for each of us to (re)claim our voices. For if we are to speak up and out for ourselves, and the many causes that require our championship, our pathway forward must enable us to cultivate the mindset and behaviors to transform our communication with ourselves so that we can transform the communication we put out into the world.
What Do You Mean by Moxie, Lex?
The word moxie has become synonymous with vigor, verve, pep, courage, nerve, aggressiveness, skill, and know-how. While the word didn’t come into common use until the 1930s in the United States, with the advent of Moxie soda, it can be traced back to 1876, when Dr. Augustin Thompson, Moxie’s founder, first created and marketed “Moxie Nerve Food,” a medicine that he claimed treated paralysis, nervousness, and insomnia. I acknowledge that those claims sound as dubious as my preschool-aged daughter’s when she tells me her dad told her she could have another thirty minutes of screen time. (Although well done, Dr. Thompson, for successfully persuading many of your contemporaries to believe your theory — and for securing a medical patent for your concoction and successfully building the Moxie soda brand!)
I love the word moxie because it suggests a way of thinking, a way of feeling, and a way of behaving that activates speaking up and disrupting the status quo. This is what Step into Your Moxie is all about — amplifying your voice, visibility, and influence in the world — even if, especially if, you have previously struggled to do so in your work, your community, and your personal life. My desire, during our journey together, is for you to discover, and never forget, that you can walk into any room, or onto any stage, and speak with moxie — and inspire other people to do the same.
In my midtwenties, when I first decided I wanted to be a coach, one of my coaching instructors asked, “What’s the question you were born to answer?” As everyone around me started scribbling his or her responses, I felt like a kid lost in a theme park — small, overwhelmed, and in need of some grown-up direction. Yet, as I made a habit of doing most of my life, I said nothing. I smiled, nodded my head, and I’m pretty sure even moaned a little — hmm, uh-huh, yeah — so that nobody could see how much of a phony-boloney I felt like inside. Then, a few years later, having hung out my shingle as a coach and launched a semisuccessful career as a motivational workplace speaker, I found my answer. Or rather, my answer found me.
I arrived a bit early to a social innovation conference where I was the closing keynote speaker, in time to catch the participants’ pitch fest. Each of the approximately one hundred twentysomethings in attendance had a couple of minutes to present their big idea for how to harness entrepreneurial solutions to solve a big social, economic, or environmental problem. The pitches rocked. They were bold, well researched, and full of heart. The speakers presented their ideas in front of fellow attendees, and everyone present voted for who they felt gave the best pitch. When the finalists’ names were announced, I was incredulous, for every single one of those named was male. In a room full of approximately fifty young men and fifty young women, not one woman was selected by her peers.
As I do whenever I’m a little riled up, and I was steamier than a boiling teapot that day, I started to ask anybody who would listen to me, “What happened? Where are the voices of our women?” And what I learned surprised me, sobered me, and enabled me to find what had been an elusive answer to the question about my life purpose.
Both the male and female participants told me they had voted based on who they perceived to be the best speaker. In other words, who spoke up, projected confidence, took up space, owned their accomplishments, exuded charm and charisma — a masculine model of influence. And yet when I asked, “Who were the speakers that you felt most connected to? That you trusted? That made you want to really get involved in solving the issue they illuminated?” both the young men and women mentioned the names of female participants. They concurred that many of the female speakers shared stories that stirred the heart and the soul. They engendered trust as they told the truth about themselves, at times even confessing they still had a lot to learn before they felt their ideas could have the full impact they wanted. This, however, was not deemed effective communication.
That’s when I knew I felt like a bull in the ring who’s just seen a red cape, because I’ve been in that audience most of my life. I’ve discounted my communication as a woman, my inner voice, and I’ve evaluated my success based on a masculine model that normalizes confidence, assertiveness, authority, and taking up space — qualities I always felt I had in short supply. I want to step into my moxie, I told myself. I want to speak my passion, assert my perspectives, and be humble and honest, and I want to do it Sinatra style — my way. I want to integrate the masculine and the feminine so that I can argue on behalf of ideas, claim space for myself and my ideas, tell stories, ask questions, make people laugh, and when appropriate, make them cry. That is what I’m born to do. The question I am born to answer: How can I show other people, particularly women, how to do the same?
Fewer than ninety days after that life-changing and life-charging pitch fest, I rebaptized myself as a women’s speaking and leadership coach — and I haven’t looked back. Through my individual and group coaching and training programs, keynote speeches, seminars, and retreats, I’ve supported tens of thousands of executives, entrepreneurs, coaches, healers, change agents, and emerging leaders