I’ve been waaaaaay out of my comfort zone over the last few weeks − both professionally and personally. 

Last Thursday I traveled to Milan to meet a client, but divine timing had it that I would also be there to support my dear friend Rocio at her poetry event at MUDEC.

When I gave her last minute confirmation that I’d be in Milan, she replied "fantastic, there will be an open mic and you can share a poem with the audience."

"A poem that I wrote?" I asked, confused. I am not a poet. I just read poetry. What do I know about poetry?

"Yes, your poem. You're a natural. Just write."

My mind starting racing, my body started trembling. I thought of about 654 reasons as to why I could NOT write and recite a poem.

But I knew that growth was on the other side of fear. At the event, there were so many brilliant poets who have been internationally published and celebrated. And there I was, feeling like a fraud. This is a theme that comes up from time to time, commonly known as imposter syndrome. I knew that I didn’t have a choice − I was going to be brave and just do this.

I got up, grabbed the mic, and gave it my all. Here is the poem that I shared.

I am stil becoming

You wouldn’t grow angry with a butterfly

when she takes her sweet time

to spread her wings.


tell me,

why are you rushing me?

Afterwards, I obviously felt great. It’s always fun once the scary part is over.

I was inspired to write more, even if just for myself.

This whole experience was a prime example of vulnerability − putting myself out there without being 100% certain of the outcome. Instead of labeling of it as fear, I’m actively trying to rewrite the story and see it as adventure and excitement.

Vulnerability is scary, but at this point I am more afraid of what I would lose if I were to let that tiny, shaky voice in my head win.

More to come next week…

Elena CipriettiComment