Fit nowhere. Belong everywhere.

Hello beautiful soul

I never really felt like I belonged at school, and that set the tone for many chapters of my life that followed. 

My brain didn’t quite fit the system I found myself in.
I asked too many questions. Felt too many things. Thought in loops and spirals instead of straight lines.

So I found rebellion instead.

If I couldn’t belong there, I’d find people I could belong to.
And I tried reeeeeeeal hard at that.

I fought my teachers.
I fought the system.
And I fought myself.

Because when you don’t feel like you belong anywhere…
You start bending and shaping yourself into something that might.

But here’s the plot twist I didn’t see coming:

The person I most needed to belong to… was ME.

And from that place—belonging to myself—beautiful, unexpected, magical things keep unfolding.

One of them happened just this week.
Bristol Grammar School—a place I left at 12 after less than two years—recently reached out.

They’re doing something powerful:

→ Championing inclusion
→ Reaching out to alumni to inspire the next generation
→ Making space for stories like mine

I went to visit them this week, and I’ll be going back in to speak to the students hopefully on my next trip—especially to the girls. 

Because imagine a world where we weren’t told to dim ourselves in school.
Where no one mistook our brilliance for disruption.
Where we were taught to double down on who we really are.
To lead with it.
To trust it.

I mean, yes—maybe I’d be out of a job
(since my work is helping women come home to themselves and lead from that place)

…but I’d still be a very happy Penfold indeed.

Walking those corridors again, something softened in me.
It was healing.
Not because I finally fit in—but because I didn’t need to.

I belong to myself now.
And with every year, every layer I shed,
that belonging runs deeper.

Authenticity and belonging grow together.
One can’t thrive without the other.
Belonging without authenticity is just performance.
And authenticity without belonging can feel unsafe.

True belonging starts with being real.
And being real requires somewhere safe to land.

Authenticity is a buzzword, I know.
But in practice? It’s gritty. It’s holy. It’s hard.

Especially when your nervous system is just trying to survive—the next meeting, the next feedback loop, the next performance review.

I didn’t fully understand it until I was already in leadership roles—still struggling to trust my voice.
Still shape-shifting in rooms that weren’t built for me.
Still wondering if the real me was allowed to lead.

That’s why I do the work I do now.
Because I want you to get there sooner.

The truth is, authenticity isn't just a nice-to-have.
It’s the difference between living from your life and just surviving it.

Let’s make it real for a moment.

Here are some of the things I’ve judged myself for:

→ Shrinking around others
→ Overthinking
→ Not being clever enough

But now, I say—

Sometimes I’ve judged myself for shrinking,
but the truth is I’m sensitive. I feel deeply. And that’s a gift.

Sometimes I’ve judged myself for overthinking,
but the truth is I see things others miss. I hold nuance like art.

Sometimes I’ve judged myself for not being clever enough,
but the truth is my intelligence is intuitive, emotional, embodied—and vast.

Your turn.

Just one.

Sometimes I judge myself for…
But the truth is…

Take 30 seconds.
Let the real you speak.

That’s the work.
Not to become someone else, but to come home to the truth of who you’ve always been.

Because the world doesn’t need more perfect women.

It needs more WHOLE ones.

You don’t have to wait for someone else to choose you.
You don’t have to bend to belong.

You get to belong to you. FIRST.

And from that place, everything changes.

Start your journey to belonging THIS WEEK with me and Shivani Pathak on a FREE LinkedIn live session. 

Join us for "You get what you ask for (mostly): break the cycle of under-earning" this Thursday June 12th at 4pm UK, 11am ET. 

Too many brilliant women are still waiting to be picked.
Hoping that if they work hard enough, someone will notice.
Reward them. Pay them fairly. Offer them the raise, the title, the opportunity.

But here's the truth:
Hope is not a strategy.

Under-earning isn’t just about money — it’s about power.
And too many of us have been taught to give it away.

Let's take it back, starting this Thursday. 

Rooting for you always
Ruth x

Ps. BGS is hella Hogwarts 🪄

(Side note: No invisibility cloak needed—I didn’t have to hide this time. And walking back into that building as the woman I am now...? That felt like magic FOR REAL ✨)