For more than fifteen years, I have been the first point of contact.
The first face.

I am good at it, and I take pride in it.

I am the one people see when they walk through the door. The one whose voice they hear when they call. The one who knows the calendar better than the calendar knows itself. The one who quietly figures things out before anyone realizes there was a problem to solve in the first place.

The gatekeeper. The translator. The person who makes everything run smoothly.

Some days that means being visible. Other days it means disappearing just enough so the moment works. Anyone who has done this work understands that balance. It is not accidental. It is learned.

The Advantage and the Cost

There are real advantages to administrative and executive support roles. We shape the tone and the environment without skipping a beat. We notice what is off before it becomes an issue. We hold context. We read the room. That kind of influence is not loud. It is built over time, through consistency and trust.

It also comes with a quiet cost.

You learn to stand behind the curtain, making the magic work while someone else takes the stage.

You carry responsibility without authorship. You hold context that never fully belongs to you. You make decisions that ripple outward even when your name never appears on the final outcome. You are essential, with much of the impact happening quietly.

And still, I step back.

Not because I fail. Not because I burn out.

I step back because something became clear.

Being the face does not have to be the only goal. It is simply the role I have been given.

A Different Choice

As I build my own business alongside my work, I have a choice. I can chase visibility. Build a personal brand. Show up everywhere. Say more. Share more. Explain myself more.

This seems to be the expectation.

But it does not feel like me.

So I choose differently.

I choose to be the person behind the curtain. Not because I lack courage, heart, or brains. But because I have learned where my power actually lives.

I choose to be the engine. The kind that makes room for people who were never meant to stand in the spotlight. I am the person who builds the frameworks, the systems, and the thinking that other people use.

Thinking shaped through iteration, refinement, and clarity. Thinking that comes from having lived the work, not just talking about it.

I create what others ultimately deliver.

They have the audience. They have the trust. They have the stage.

I am comfortable with that.

I hold the intellectual property.

Why This Works

That decision does not always look impressive from the outside. It is not flashy. It does not translate easily into sound bites. It is often misunderstood, even by people who benefit from it.

But it is intentional.

There is a philosophy behind this way of working. I built a framework around it. I do not name it here, because naming it is not the point. I talk about it selectively, in rooms where it belongs, with people who already recognize the pattern.

The point is simpler than all of that.

Some of us do our best work behind the curtain. Not hiding. Building. The wizard was never the source of the magic. Dorothy always had the power. She just needed to believe it.

Visibility is not the only path. Exposure is not the same as ownership.

And besides, there is no place like home.

This is what happens when PRONOIA shifts the winds and you realize it was never the wizard who held the power.