Bringing Your Whole Self to Work: Lessons from a Portfolio Career
In recent years, I’ve noticed a recurring theme in the organizations I work with: the idea of bringing your whole self to work. It’s the notion that all the glorious, weird, and vulnerable aspects of who you are outside of work should also be welcomed in the workplace. Rather than splitting yourself into “work self” and “personal self,” the goal is to merge the two.
This got me thinking—do I bring my whole self to work? As someone who runs their own business, this is a complicated question.
The Challenge of Being Whole
On the surface, I might seem like the perfect candidate for authenticity at work. I’m my own boss. I design my training, write my blogs, and am in charge of ‘writing’ all my own dialogue when I’m improvising on stage. But when you wear as many hats as I do, switching between them isn’t always seamless.
Take my corporate work, for example. It can feel disorienting to sit in a meeting discussing contracts, KPIs, and ROI while knowing that a quick Google search could lead that same client to book tickets for a show where I could be pretending to be a shoe.
In the past, I tried to keep these two worlds separate—sometimes even hiding my performer side from my corporate clients. Ironically, as my performance opportunities became more high-profile, I found myself downplaying my day job in applied improvisation.
Why? Because I feared judgment. If I admitted to one group what I did for the other, would I lose credibility? Would corporate clients think, “Oh, you’re a performer? You can’t possibly understand serious business.” Would my performance peers think, “Oh, you’re corporate? You must not be a real artist.”
Finding Confidence in the Crossover
These days, I feel much more comfortable owning my niche. I’ve realized that my varied experiences don’t detract from my expertise—they enhance it.
I’m a better facilitator because I “walk the talk.” Years of performing have taught me how to adapt confidently, whether I’m facing a room full of executives or an audience of comedy lovers. And my corporate work? It’s given me insights and skills that strengthen my stage presence and storytelling.
Yes, the different parts of my life can feel like they exist on separate planets—mother of two toddlers, entrepreneur, comedian, volunteer, general hot mess. But the more directions my life branches into, the more I realize they’re all rooted in the same tree. They all stem from me.
How to Bring Your Whole Self to Work
Learning to integrate the different parts of yourself into your professional life isn’t easy, but it can be incredibly rewarding. Here are a few strategies I’ve found helpful:
Reframe Your Perspective
Instead of seeing your different roles as conflicting, view them as complementary. Each aspect of your life teaches you skills that can enrich the others.
Own Your Unique Story
The more I’ve embraced my “messy” portfolio life, the more I’ve realized it’s my greatest strength. Your varied experiences set you apart, so lean into them.
Start Small
If sharing your full self feels daunting, start with small steps. Mentioning a hobby or interest in a professional setting can be a gentle way to test the waters.
Seek Alignment
Find ways to align your values across your roles. For me, improvisation connects the dots between creativity, adaptability, and communication—skills that serve me on stage and in boardrooms alike.
Embracing My Unique Self
It’s scary to let people see the full picture, but I’m learning to do it. Why? Because these different aspects of myself are my greatest strength—my unique selling point.
There will never be another Heather Urquhart (well, apart from Heather Urquhart the equine dentist, and a few in Scotland, but you get my point). I want people to work with all of me, not just the polished version that shows up in an ironed shirt.
Of course, I’ll iron my shirt when the occasion calls for it. But I also want you to know that I probably traveled to the meeting in a t-shirt and trainers because they were more comfortable. And as soon as I get home, I’ll be slipping into the unicorn slippers my son bought me.
Because that’s who I am—and I’ve learned to embrace it.