It’s hard to put into words what the last ten years have meant to me … but if I were to try, I would say this:

Ten years ago I had no idea what my career would look like. The public service was foreign to me, but the desire to make a difference by all those I worked with was familiar. I wanted to challenge the status quo. I wanted to champion new ways of working. I wanted to be proud of the advice and work I led … no matter the role or department. And eventually, I wanted to do all of that in a way that could prove to others that they could do the same by being authentically themselves while doing it. Over time, it was no longer just about making a difference for Canadians, but making a difference for the very Canadians I worked alongside. It was about doing government differently, even if different wasn’t always easy or supported.

I didn’t always fit that traditional mold for what a public sector leader should be, but if the last ten years taught me anything it’s that we need more leaders who don’t fit that mold.

That’s how we do government differently.

Over the last two years of my career, I’ve been fortunate to work as an executive in the public service. And while I sometimes doubted whether I belonged at the table, I’ve seen first hand how different perspectives, different ways of working, and different people are needed at said table if we are to truly change how we deliver services and programs for Canadians.

However, if truth be told, transitioning to the executive ranks at times felt impossible. While I was trying to grow as a leader in the public service, I was also trying to simultaneously grow my family …

… and the two at times felt at odds.

For those following my journey, it’s no secret that my road to motherhood has not been an easy one. In fact, for many women the road to motherhood can feel like a lonely one. And yet, despite the despair that often plagued me, the medicine and treatments I had to navigate, and the uncertain road I found myself on, I still showed up every single day for my team, my colleagues and my organization. Eventually, however, I realized that showing up, even during this chapter – the hardest of my life – meant that I had to show up with strength and vulnerability. And that’s probably one of the greatest lessons I learned as a leader over the last ten years … that we need more vulnerability at the leadership table.

As Brené Brown once said:
“Vulnerability sounds like truth and feels like courage. Truth and courage aren’t always comfortable, but they’re never weakness. To scale daring leadership and build courage in teams and organizations, we have to cultivate a culture in which brave work, tough conversations, and whole hearts are the expectation.”

And so despite the vulnerable road I found myself on, I owned that truth every single day. I worked hard to achieve results, but I worked harder to serve as an example of that daring leadership Brené speaks of. 

But today’s post wasn’t intended to just look back on the past and share lessons learned, it was also meant to celebrate the future.

This month, I am not only celebrating my ten year milestone in the public service but I am also celebrating motherhood.