“Don’t be so busy telling everyone else’s story that you forget to share your own.” One of my Medill School of Journalism, Media, Integrated Marketing Communications professors said those words during my freshman year at Northwestern, and they’ve stuck with me.

Like all of you, I have a unique story. I was born and raised in Anchorage, Alaska, where I went downhill skiing in the winter and played soccer at 10 p.m. in the Alaskan summer sunlight. I watched bears and moose in my backyard, and I still refer to the rest of the country as the “Lower 48.” I was extremely passionate about writing throughout my childhood. I served as the editor of my high school newspaper and loved interviewing students who may not have received the spotlight otherwise.

I was a broadcast journalism major at NU and can distinctly remember sitting in Journalism 201-1: Reporting and Writing during my freshman fall. I never felt so challenged, overwhelmed and intimidated in my entire life. In full transparency, I considered transferring out of Medill during my freshman year. 

I didn’t think I had it in me to put up with the constant stress and agony over every comma, word choice and quote. But in retrospect, I’m thankful my professors pushed me to dig deep and step out of my comfort zone. I had to learn to make mistakes and take some risks with my writing. I began to thrive on the tight deadlines, pressure to make every word count and the responsibility of getting each quote exactly right.

During the over 10 years since I graduated, I received a master’s degree in public relations, lived in five states and served in communications and public relations roles at a large PR agency, mid-sized professional services firm, a private university and two global corporations. I have also returned to campus several times to guest lecture for undergraduate Introduction to PR classes at Medill, which is incredibly rewarding. I currently serve as a senior manager for global communications at Kimberly-Clark, the parent company for brands like Huggies, Kotex, Kleenex and Cottonelle. I live in Dallas with my husband, Chad, and the light of our lives — our tabby cat, Chester. 

What have I learned along the way? If you want to be an impactful leader in your professional and personal life, trust your inner compass. Sharing your voice and trusting your inner compass takes courage and vulnerability, but that sets true leaders apart.

As renowned psychologist and researcher Brené Brown said, “Vulnerability is hard and it’s scary, and it feels dangerous. But it’s not as hard, or scary or dangerous as getting to the end of our lives and having to ask ourselves: What if I would’ve shown up?”

When I reflect on my own journey thus far, professionally at various employers and personally through my relationships with family, friends, significant others and my community, I’ve realized the ability to truly show up requires us to own our story — all of it. 

I have always been passionate about speaking up about the causes and people I care about, but I wasn’t super comfortable when it came to speaking up for myself. As I entered the corporate world after graduating from NU, I realized I had a lot to learn. When I first started working at an international energy company early in my career, I entered a male-dominated industry with a preference for technical employees and engineers, not communications professionals. During my time at the company, I worked across numerous states in very male-dominated environments where I was often the minority in terms of gender and background. I always felt like I had to prove myself from day one to show that I could add value. The number one way I did that was to speak up and share my voice in all contexts. While people didn’t always agree with me or do what I advised, I never regretted voicing my opinion.

Speaking up, however, isn’t just something we need to do at work. Serving as a true leader in our own lives can be even more challenging. Several years ago, I ended an engagement and a three-year relationship two weeks — yes, two weeks — before the scheduled wedding. It was the toughest decision I’ve ever had to make, but I knew in my gut and my heart that it wasn’t right. What followed was quite possibly the hardest few months of my life up to that point, but I don’t regret my decision for a single second. If I hadn’t changed my path, I wouldn’t have met my husband, who is the partner and best friend I always dreamed of meeting but never thought I would find.

Be brave and don’t ignore your inner compass, whether that be at school, work or in your personal life. As you all continue your own leadership journeys at the University and beyond, I encourage you to share your voice in all aspects of your life. Leadership comes from within, and your voice is so important. 

My former classmates and professors at NU inspired me to pursue my own story — one that isn’t always perfectly written and definitely still has some holes. But that’s okay because I’m still writing it. I can’t wait to read yours. 

Brenna Clairr Moore (Medill ’11) is a senior manager for Global Communications at Kimberly-Clark. If you would like to respond publicly to this op-ed, send a Letter to the Editor to [email protected]. The views expressed in this piece do not necessarily reflect the views of all staff members of The Daily Northwestern.