8 Reasons to Hit Post on that Story You’re Scared to Share

This will NOT tell you that “you’ve got this! Believe in yourself!” This will tell you the tactical, practical reasons why we need your voice right now.

Over the past 5 years, I’ve helped hundreds of women share their stories. We’ve uncovered their voices to inspire people from a stage, to tell their most vulnerable moments on a podcast, to build “my mess became my message” businesses, to fundraise tens of thousands of dollars for causes they care about.But before we get to that celebration, we start with the mindset blocks. Self-censorship isn’t a personal flaw. It’s a trained response to a culture that has spent a looong time telling women to stay small, be humble, and not make things “about them.” Le sigh. 🙄

Getting comfortable sharing your stories might just be the greatest life hack.

Because when you break through that self-censorship and start using your Outside Voice, your life rearranges around it. You show the universe: hey, THIS is what matters to me. You become more magnetic to the people and opportunities you’ve been secretly waiting for. You confidently pitch brands, blogs, or sponsors to collaborate with your voice. You start an event or media platform that shifts how the world looks at women and nature.(This is why, at the end of this post, I’m going to tell you about our upcoming Storytelling for Feral Women workshop series.)I want that for you. And I want to be clear about what this post is not.It’s not a pep talk. It’s not a “you’re amazing and your voice matters” motivational poster. It’s not just a list of affirmations you can add to the screenshot graveyard. (I have been there. It’s not worth it.)This is a list of actual, concrete, specific reasons why the scary story — the one sitting in your notes app, the one you’ve rewritten 11x, the one where you’re not the heroine — needs to be out in the world.

1. Someone is Googling for it right now.

If you’re thinking it, somebody else is wondering about it.A few years ago I wrote a series of trip reports for my Cascade Volcano climbing fundraiser (I raised $3k to get more girls outside!). These reports were unglamorous, honest recaps of climbs with friends, nothing epic. I didn’t think anyone was going to read them.But strangers from across the country found them on Google. They were planning their own climbs. They read my stories and many donated to a scholarship fund for women they’d never meet. Because something in those not-epic stories gave them something they needed: info, inspiration, a new perspective.Your story could be the best search result for someone who doesn’t know you exist yet! The question is whether it’s out there to be found.

2. Don’t let someone else narrate your experience.

When women don’t tell their stories, the outdoor world gets filled by the voices of whoever is willing to talk. And historically, that’s a pretty narrow demographic. Cough wealthy white man coughBrands continue to design gear for a body that isn’t yours. Race directors continue to set cutoffs that are unapproachable to beginners. Training plans keep suggesting you cut calories during taper. (OMG EW don’t do that, that one happened to me.)Your experience is data. When you don’t share it, someone else’s data is the only data. And less data = less helpful for the underrepresented folks out there.Share

3. It doesn’t have to be the best thing you’ve ever written.

I’ve seen too many “fuck it I’ll just send it” stories work so beautifully that now I skew towards under-editing media. The writing and speaking that have made massive shifts in a community are almost never what the storyteller thought was their best work. (Though it’s often the most honest.)The “best” thing you’ve ever written might be polished and impressive and get a lot of likes. The most useful thing you’ve ever written might be the messy, unfinished, kind-of-rambling thing you posted between calls on a Tuesday because you were tired of just sitting on it.Publish both – but don’t let perfect be the reason the honest one never goes out.

4. It gives other women permission to use their voices.

This one is hard to measure, but I’ve watched it happen too many times to dismiss it.When one woman tells the story everyone was thinking but nobody was saying, it inspires others to go next. I’ve seen this a bajillion times in the period space (“OMG I got my period in public there too!”) and I love it in advocacy focused conversations, like the See Her Outside podcast I host. People reach out to say, finally, somebody said it and I’m less alone.Your story isn’t just your story. It’s permission for someone else’s too!Share ✨ BLOOD, SWEAT & FEAR

5. The “not epic enough” thing is a lie the outdoor industry told you.

Adventure is relative. A guide in Nepal gestured at a mountain range I’d traveled across the world to see and said: “Anything under 19,000 feet is just a hill. His Everest is your Tuesday. Your Tuesday is someone else’s Everest.The woman who finished last in her first trail race has a story. The woman who turned around before the summit because her gut told her to has a story. The woman who did her first solo hike this weekend and was terrified the whole time has a story that someone who’s been climbing for twenty years cannot tell.The outdoor industry (specifically, brands who want your money) decided that elite stories are the ones worth telling. That was their decision, not a law of nature. You don’t have to honor it.

6. It might fix something.

I sent an email to a training plan company once because a comment in my 100-mile race plan told me to cut my calories by 20% during taper. One throwaway line sent me spiraling around food for the first time in years.I was terrified they’d tell me I was a sensitive snowflake.They didn’t. They validated me, fixed the line, and removed it from all future plans.That email — from me, a not-elite, just-enthusiastic ultrarunner with a not-epic story about a feeling she had during taper week — changed something for every woman who would have read that comment after me.Leave a comment

7. Future you will be grateful.

The body of work you’re building right now (the IG post captions, the trip reports, the pitches, the essays, the solo podcast episodes you almost didn’t publish)... Even if none of it goes viral, I know it’ll help you in your future goals.When you want to pitch a brand, or apply to speak at an event, or get invited to guest on a podcast, or launch a business of your own — these will be the receipts. The proof that you show up and say things and stand behind them. And every post you don’t publish is a receipt you don’t have.

8. The outdoor world is an echo chamber and you’re the missing voice.

When I took my avalanche training, I learned that snow observation reports submitted to avalanche centers are overwhelmingly written by the same demographic. Which means the data we use to understand risk and avalanches is coming from a narrow slice of outdoor recreators.They urged us as women to submit snow observations, because more diverse observations means better data. Better data means we understand risk better. Better risk understanding means we save lives. Yes, stories can literally save lives.It’s a parallel for storytelling in media in general. Representation does not magically diversify. It takes individual women deciding their story is worth telling (maybe before they feel ready, without a neat ending, and without an expert’s permission). That’s you!