Accolades Fatigue: Balancing Gratitude and Staying True to Your Purpose

Accolades are an inspiring affirmation of hard work, dedication, and impact. But for some, frequent recognition can bring a sense of weight, a feeling I call “accolades fatigue.” While I’m deeply honored each time I’m recognized, there’s a complex balance between gratitude and the drive to stay true to my purpose: sparking others to step up and engage in meaningful change. I hope that sharing my journey might resonate with others who feel a similar tension.

With each accolade comes an assumption—sometimes unspoken—that being “accomplished” means consistently excelling, without the ups and downs that define any true path to success. People may assume that being recognized for achievements means there’s little room for missteps, yet it’s often through setbacks and failures that true growth happens. I’ve learned that these experiences are essential stepping stones, even if they aren’t always part of the public story.

For me, the weight of recognition isn’t about imposter syndrome, but rather about the expectations it sets and the assumptions that follow. It’s a reminder that achievements are one part of a larger, sometimes messier, journey. I’ve learned that acknowledging this truth is important—not just for myself but for others who may see themselves in my story.

Expressing gratitude without sounding insincere or overly humble is a challenge. I want to honor the recognition from those who have awarded me, and I’m genuinely thankful. At the same time, it’s important to me that accolades don’t overshadow the work itself. Sometimes, talking about “accolades fatigue” feels like walking a tightrope; I don’t want to come across as ungrateful or complaining. Yet acknowledging it helps me to remain genuine and balanced, and hopefully, it reassures others that they don’t need to measure themselves by accolades alone.

My true passion lies in seeing others take action, engage in their communities, and create their own impact. For me, this is the real reward—knowing that something I’ve done might inspire someone else to contribute in meaningful ways. Recognition can sometimes shift the focus, making it feel like the spotlight is more on me than on the causes I care about. By returning to what drives me, I keep the focus on impact, encouraging others to pursue their passions and be changemakers in their own right.

As an introvert and someone who is neurodivergent, public recognition comes with unique challenges. I often prefer to keep a low profile, though I push myself to speak out because I believe it can spark positive change. This internal tension—between wanting to stay behind the scenes and stepping forward to make a difference—is something I continually navigate. It’s not always comfortable, but I hope that by sharing this aspect, others might feel empowered to honor their own needs while still embracing their call to contribute.

Success isn’t a straight line. I’ve found that embracing the full journey—the achievements and the setbacks—brings a richness to my work that accolades alone can’t capture. By acknowledging both the highlights and the struggles, I’m able to stay grounded, focused on what truly matters, and open to learning. Each experience is a step toward deeper growth, and it’s this ongoing journey that I hope others will feel inspired to embrace as well.

For those who might feel fatigued by seeing others’ accolades, it’s often because the celebration overshadows the story behind it. Sharing the journey—failures, lessons, and purpose—brings out the humanity in these accomplishments, making them feel more relatable and less about self-promotion. I understand that constant praise can seem repetitive. My goal, however, isn’t to accumulate accolades but to spark impact. Each recognition is a step toward a greater purpose, not just a notch on the belt. These moments, though I’m often hesitant to share them, inspire my work and drive to help others. I invite you to envision the impact beyond the personal spotlight not only regarding me, but your own milestones.

Accolades are a gift, but they don’t define the purpose or passion behind the work. My hope is to balance gratitude with authenticity, keeping the focus on what truly matters: inspiring others to find and pursue their own passions, make a difference, and create positive change in their communities. For those who experience similar feelings, I encourage you to honor both the recognition and the journey. After all, it’s the quiet moments, the meaningful contributions, and the people we inspire along the way that ultimately define our impact.

On Sock Whisperers, Grace, Innovation, and Shortcuts

As a youth leader who happens to be female, I am constantly reminded that “this is our time”. Girls and women are on the cusp of creating new realities that can influence not only our lives, but that of so many others.

Not often, but sometimes I follow or read the posts of influencers to see what resonates. As with anything, I take what works and leave the rest behind. Recently, I have been watching the lives unfold of a handful of Hollywood celebrities. It is not typically where I’ve spent my time and energy because I don’t place them on pedestals as many others do. My parents have been involved in the industry in the past and given their exposure to so many leaders around the world, being starstruck was never a thing in our house.

The other day, there was a social media post, that frankly seemed to be part of a muted duel I’ve watched unfolding. It started off about socks and fault versus responsibility, then segued into how all of this can translate into where we might find ourselves if we take shortcuts. Like a rodeo clown, apparently, in the middle of a bullring wondering how we ended up there without our matching socks, and inferentially attributed to poor choices and shortcuts.

It is rare that I participate in these threads. Most of my comments are left in the posts of nonprofits, businesses, governments, NGOs, and initiatives related to youth leadership, gender equality, and science, technology, engineering, and math (STEM). Because of my focus on these issues, I am particularly interested in the subject of how to best prepare our future generations for a productive life of their choosing, and how actions taken now and, in the past, influence who we become. Also, as I get older and the prospect of a long-term romantic partnership becomes increasingly real, I continually examine myself and what I want to project into the world through my actions and via raising offspring should I have them.

The takeaway from that conversation, which compelled me to return to a blog I’d mostly neglected, was how we can extend some grace to ourselves and others by differentiating between shortcuts with negative connotations, and those that solve problems or express the value we place on time. It occurred to me that the world had built so much around how to keep matched socks, not to mention the numerous other “toilet seat up or down” type exchanges that flow from it. And how “socks” have diverted us from what we now understand as a well-intentioned but counterintuitive manifestation: unnatural biomechanics and poor posture. It also illustrated, at least for me, that innovation and shortcuts can be good or bad – not only in design but how we weaponize or even extrapolate from human and societal dynamics.

From the literal socks theme, for example, my dad wears them all the time, even with sandals. My mom, on the other hand, won’t wear them unless she’s in danger of frostbite. In some ways it’s an act of defiance for her and she will literally go sockless or wear sandals throughout the dead of winter. We joke about it with her but she stands her ground. The net effect of that quirky lifestyle is I am also almost always sockless but lean towards socklets.

We all lead busy lives and my dad mostly does the laundry. When we lose a sock to the washer or dryer monster, it’s not something we turn into a reflection about laziness, shirking responsibility, or assigning fault. In the position to buy more socks and pay the strays forward, we donate them to places that recycle the material to create new articles of clothing, or to organizations that work with the homeless or amputees. The new lessons are then poignant soul-checks and reminders about those who don’t have the privilege of creating drama or angst around sock laundry.

I don’t aspire to be a sock whisperer, especially since it involves building systems and expectations around situations that no longer serve us. Like being hard on ourselves for not successfully rallying others around a goal (take responsibility for your own socks!). Instead, I welcome the opportunity to keep things in perspective, understand there are other important issues and ways to pivot, and connect. This disposition was bred by my parents and impacts who I am, and am becoming. Whatever other lessons learned that don't work will be left behind as I take increased ownership of my life and who I choose to be.

The topics of socks and short cuts are also metaphors about life. This is what struck a chord. There are many who struggle or deal with circumstances unlike our own. Their path is theirs to walk, ultimately. If they are in our lives and we are looking to coexist and lift one another up, the question of how to empower and grow together begs another question of whether that should be accomplished by constantly trying to rearrange one another’s baggage so they'll conform to our idea of who they should be. As a teen I will presumably have a committed relationship and maybe even children someday. How do I bring my best self so we operate with compassion, love, and emotional intelligence? How do I use my wisdom and words to create synergy and understanding instead of harm, shame, or dysfunction?

This also touches on the subject of mental health, which is a societal crisis and one of the most common conditions. In my age group, one in five suffer from at least one mental health disorder. I have always been fascinated with how society has fallen short in this regard. Missing a limb or dealing with what some consider an obvious medical condition lends itself to different reactions and expectations than if I told someone I'm neurodivergent or suffered from what is often a silent or invisible illness. It’s 2023 and we still batter one another for symptoms not always in our control, even with medication. The authentic strength of empathy towards helping others to heal deep inner wounds is sometimes viewed as weakness (and please don't confuse any of this as saying one should subject themselves to abusive behavior or patterns. Healthy boundaries, enlightened self-interest, and self-love demand we sometimes opt out).

My parents are both forces of nature in different ways. My dad is ESFP, outgoing and affable. My mother is an introvert and grew up INTP, but for years is now the rarest of personality types for women, INTJ. Whenever my dad tries to broach certain subjects in public, whether online or in person, she reclaims her private space immediately and with finality. It’s kind of funny to witness, and I expect to hear from her just given what I’ve shared in this blog post. Being that Wal-Mart kid who had a public meltdown was not an option, and my first transgression became my last.

My point above relates to the dialogue I see on the internet, especially social media, where people are publicly shaming or ripping on one another with traditional thinking. This dynamic plays a role in why my generation isn’t dating as much or entering committed romantic relationships despite the tech innovation that connects us. As someone who straddles INTP/INTJ, that a future partner could take to social media to publicly engineer my compliance because they have a limited understanding of biophysiochemical issues – willfully or otherwise – is a very discouraging prospect. Despite the risks, I still strongly believe love is the answer.

Back to socks, and I’ll wrap this up. People didn’t want to keep washing their stinky feet and shoes, or they wanted to keep their feet warm. The short cut was a welcome innovation that created different problems. Now that we’re smarter and aware of new ways to create better solutions, I am reminded of the challenge we still face to raise our humanity to meet similar levels. I have hope that we'll do it.

When I wrote a brief comment in that social media thread the other day, an unknown person apparently looked me up then sent a private snark that read “Oh what do you know? You’re just a kid”. Someone else wrote to tell me they were blocking my organization's account so they couldn't see my posts anymore. None of it is my business and I didn't respond to any of it. People looking for a fight or projecting darkness in the face of good intention. One thing I’ll never pretend to be is omniscient, but what I do know is the world feels better when we exercise kindness wherever possible. Prove me wrong.

Youth Leadership: Breaking Through the Barriers to Serve

I’ve been involved in civic activities as a youth leader and mentor since I was about 10 or 11, and I always wanted to create or support an opportunity to uplift and empower while inspiring change on the issues of health, gender equality, and education. For many years, my friendships with girls were challenging at best. I was ostracized or excluded and experienced some emotional bullying. I knew many of them were lacking in self-esteem or seeking what they felt was popularity or attention. We’ve been told for many years that this is what helps us to become successful, to stand out.

As someone who has always been competitive, I encouraged others to rise up instead of wanting to elevate myself per their failures. I believed the key to our power and voice resided in more positive interactions instead of the messages fed by society that we need to use sharp elbows to gain competitive advantage. Whatever decisions I made regarding how to serve or give back, I knew I wanted it to include a peer-to-peer pipeline for learning, mentoring, and leadership while growing together, and to provide skills girls could develop, refine, and utilize across disciplines.

I’d always been encouraged by my parents, especially my mum, to step up and lead or bring others with me. So did others. But what I learned over time was some of those others really meant I should lead as long as I didn’t exceed their ideas of what that looked like. If I was in charge of a team of adults, I faced dismissal and sometimes even defiance. They thought my professionalism and vision were “cute” but didn’t want to “take orders from a kid”. When I asked them to follow through on their commitments, I was projected onto and wrongly accused of being disrespectful, sassy, or "pouty".

Sometimes they told me to slow down, not to be “too ambitious”, to act my age and make sure I have fun – as if having a passion for STEM or advocacy couldn’t possibly be seen as fun and I was only doing it to pad my resume. Or, I was asked if my parents were trying to raise me as a prodigy – someone who had to be shaped or driven by others because my type of motivation couldn’t exist in someone my age. Or a girl. Or even a girl of color.

But this isn’t about all the things that can go wrong when a young person strikes out to change his or her world. It’s a reality we should prepare for, with a thought towards tips, suggestions, and best practices for the youth who dare to lead and adults they might encounter along the way who minimize them or their efforts. It takes a lot to move the mountains in our society that must be moved, and it will require all of us, working together, to realize success.

Why I Chose STEM

My interest in STEM is lifelong. Although it was encouraged by my parents, I also attended after school and summer STEAM camps and was intrigued by the idea of why things work. On top of this, I was taken to meetings, conferences, and speaking engagements around the globe with my parents, witnessing the impact of STEM on public policy and business in tangible and visionary ways.

When I started learning code in first grade, I began to appreciate that this was probably the world’s most universal second language. I started teaching it to kids and adults on Western Washington University’s Poulsbo campus when I was 10 years old, and viewed it as the thread woven through nearly all aspects of our lives, almost like the power of electricity. By the time I joined my high school’s FIRST Robotics team, I thought programming the robot for competition would be my natural choice. Instead, while I observed several sub-teams I was drawn to the hands-on, collaborative, and visibly responsive aspect of mechanical engineering: how things work. Building a robot from the ground up was the thrill of a lifetime, and the natural progression into understanding how artificial intelligence and data analysis play a role has engaged me even further than I could possibly imagine.

As trite as it may sound, STEM is my calling. So is trying to bring others with me. I envision a role where I can marry STEM, leadership, and public policy to not only create, but inspire and advocate for change. It is a passion and my purpose.

The Only Girl in the Room

Our society has an unfortunate history of suppression and inequality with respect to women and people of color. We are working to change that, but at its core we are talking about equal access and better representation in STEM as a human rights issue. From the perspective of science and the business world, we are operating with one of our hands tied behind our backs. The capabilities and strengths that girls and women bring to the table can only serve to heighten and contribute to excellence and our potential as we widen the talent pool.

Frankly speaking, women have already had a profound impact in STEM advancements, and it was either ignored, buried, or overshadowed. When women and girls are unencumbered and allowed to freely explore their interest in STEM education and careers, this provides social and financial benefit which strengthens the world’s economy.

You can’t be what you can’t see. When we are able to see more women in STEM, including those from underrepresented populations, these role models galvanize. And just as there are men in STEM who have achieved across diverse levels, there is tremendous value in reducing impostor syndrome for girls and women who feel they have to be multiple award-winning and high-achieving scholars in order to participate. The truth is, we can jump in wherever we’re at and enjoy it.

Your Best Foot Forward

• Be wildly curious about the world and its inhabitants.

• Don’t be afraid to lead or take the road less traveled to better yourself and those around you.

• Pursue your education towards a career that not only improves your life, but gives back tenfold at the community level.

• Make a mark as a leader in STEM who happens to be a woman, which is to say your goal should be to normalize the existence of girls and women in STEM education and STEM fields.

• As young women in STEM with a passion for technology, servant leadership, and community involvement, choose a lifetime of engagement which motivates you and others to change the world, and help encourage and inspire more females in STEM to rise with you as future innovators.

Most of all, don’t be deterred if you’re the only girl in the room. That just means you’re the first one and can bring others along for the journey.