Too Legit to Quit (Even When the World Says Otherwise)

“I used to be legit. In fact, I was too legit to quit. But now I’m not legit. I’m unlegit, and for that reason, I must quit.”

No, these aren’t my words—they belong to Rod Kimble from Hot Rod. And no, I haven’t actually seen the whole movie, but somehow this ridiculous quote perfectly sums up how I feel sometimes—or at least how others seem to perceive me.

For most of my life, I’ve been on a mission to prove I’m legit. I’ve collected degrees, earned credentials, spoken to crowds, read and memorized libraries of books, created and sold countless educational materials, and even won a few awards along the way. All of it, I thought, would validate me—convince myself and others that I was credible, worthy, legit.

I believed that once I reached this mythical “legit” status, I’d finally have the freedom to just show up as myself. No CV required. No credentials needed. Just me, being enough.

I honestly thought I’d hit that point when I was invited to speak at an association I’d been part of for years. They knew me—my history, my qualifications, all the things. So, I submitted a bio that focused on me, not my achievements. But when it came time for the introduction, they pulled out a different bio—a more “professional” one that they felt gave me credibility. They later explained they needed something that would validate me.

I was floored. After all those years of proving myself, I’d clearly overestimated my level of legit-ness in their eyes. So, back I went to fortifying my pedigree and playing the game, sticking to what I thought others wanted to hear.

But then, a few months ago, a podcast producer reached out to feature me as a guest. Another bio request. This time, I couldn’t resist the urge to ditch the “acceptable” template and try something different. With my friend Tirzah Lewis, who was also a guest, we created a bio that screamed personality and authenticity. It was funny, real, and unapologetically us.

The host, however, wasn’t having it. As he read it aloud, he edited it on the fly, changing words, omitting details, and stripping away the essence of what made it real. His actions practically screamed, "Don’t be unlegit."

Looking back, I realize that my discomfort with staying in the bounds makes others uncomfortable too—so much so that they react by trying to pull me back in. It’s as if their actions are shouting, "You must quit."

But unlike Rod Kimble, I’m not quitting. Because here’s the truth: I’m too legit to quit. And while I may not fit neatly into the boxes others want to place me in, I’m finally okay with that. The freedom to show up as my true, unedited self is worth it—even if it makes everyone else squirm.

If we aren’t brave enough to show up as our true selves, how can we ever inspire others to do the same?

• Where are you holding back, even though you know it’s time to lean in?

• What impact could stepping forward have—not just for you, but for those you aim to help?