The Moment Three Simple Words Reframed My Career
Authored by: Alinnette Casiano
Bilingual Educator. Professor. Professional Development Specialist. Curriculum Designer. Learning Experience Designer. UX Researcher. Founder.
Looking at that list now, I see a trail of titles that felt like wins at the time. Each one was proof I was climbing, evolving, becoming “more.” But here’s what I didn’t see until it nearly cost me everything: somewhere between the classroom in Puerto Rico and the corporate offices, I’d stopped being a person who did meaningful work and started being a title that performed a role.
The wake-up call came when I was writing my first book chapter. My first real authoring opportunity, and I was determined to make it impressive.
I’d crafted these elaborate sentences, woven in complex frameworks, and referenced multiple theories. Every paragraph felt sophisticated, important, like something a “real author” would write. I was so proud of it.
Then I sent it to my mentor for editing.
In a Zoom call afterwards, I could sense it in her voice before she even spoke. “Ali,” she started gently, “I’m reading this, and I’m not sure who you’re writing for.”
I didn’t understand. I was writing for readers. For professionals who want to grow.
“You’re writing to sound like an author,” she said. “Not to help people understand something they need.”
Then she said three words that would change everything: “Clarity over cleverness.”
When the Performance Replaces the Purpose
Here’s the thing about climbing the career ladder: sometimes you get so focused on looking the part that you forget what the part is actually supposed to accomplish.
When I was teaching kids in Puerto Rico, my job was simple: help them learn. I knew I was doing it right when I saw understanding click in their eyes. No ambiguity. No performance. Just clear, direct impact.
But as the titles got fancier? The work got murkier.
As a professor, I wasn’t just teaching; I was “shaping future educators” and thinking in pedagogical frameworks. As a Professional Development Specialist and Curriculum Designer, I was doing “strategic planning” and “systemic design.” By the time I hit big tech as a Learning Experience Designer and then UX Researcher, I was drowning in complexity that I’d convinced myself was sophistication.
I’d look at my work and think, ‘This is impressive.’ This shows expertise. This proves I deserve to be here.
What I wasn’t asking: Does this actually help the person who needs it?
The Trap I Didn’t See Coming
There’s a specific pressure that comes with feeling like you have to prove you belong. Every title felt like armor. Proof I’d earned my seat at the table, evidence I’d made it despite the doubts. I held onto those titles tight and performed them perfectly because any mistake might confirm the quiet question I was always working against: Do I really deserve to be here?
So I optimized for sounding smart. For using the right frameworks. For showcasing advanced methodologies. For being everything I thought someone at my level should be.
And in doing that, I lost the through-line that had always defined my best work: helping people understand complex things so they can actually use them.
That’s what I did, navigating between Spanish and English. That’s what I did in the classroom. That’s what I should have been doing in corporate learning. Instead, I was using complexity as a measure of credibility.
What Changed After Those Three Words
My mentor’s feedback hit hard because it was true. I’d been designing to prove I deserved my impressive title, not to help the learner learn. I’d confused elaborate with effective.
So I started making different choices.
Example 1: When I led research on implementing generative AI solutions, I could have created this elaborate presentation showcasing my methodology expertise and research rigor. Instead, I made it dead simple: “Here’s what we automate. Here’s the 65% efficiency gain. Here’s the timeline.” Clear. Actionable. Immediately useful.
Example 2: In meetings with senior leadership, I stopped using jargon to prove I belonged in the room. I started stating findings directly, explaining implications clearly, and recommending actions specifically. It turns out that clarity commands way more respect than complexity ever did.
Example 3: When I founded Growing Your EQ, I could have gone with “Chief Learning Officer” or “Chief Executive Leadership Development Strategist”. Titles that sound impressively important. Instead: Founder. Leadership Strategist. Clear about what I actually do: help professionals lead with emotional intelligence.
No performance. Just clarity about the value I provide.
The Question That Changes Everything
Now, before I send an email, deliver a presentation, or design a program, I ask myself one thing:
“Am I doing this because it’s what my title suggests I should do, or because it’s what will actually create the impact I want?”
That question reveals everything:
Am I using this language because it’s clear, or because it makes me sound expert?
Am I building this because it serves the user, or because it showcases my capabilities?
Am I making this choice from who I actually am, or who I think I should be performing as?
The answers aren’t always comfortable. I still catch myself slipping into title performance; it’s seductive, especially when you’re building a business or establishing credibility. But self-awareness isn’t about being perfect. It’s about noticing the gap between who you are and who you’re performing as, then choosing to close it.
What Letting Go Actually Looks Like
When I stopped trying to be my title and started being myself, something unexpected happened. My work didn’t get less sophisticated; it got more effective. My influence didn’t shrink; it grew. Because people could actually understand and act on what I was saying.
When I delivered my TEDx talk entirely in Spanish, I wasn’t trying to sound like what a TEDx speaker “should” sound like. I just told my story. That authenticity had a greater impact than any performance could have.
The Truth I Wish I’d Known Sooner
Titles matter. They open doors, signal competence, and create opportunities. But they’re not you. They’re roles you inhabit, not identities you become.
The moment your title becomes your primary source of worth, you lose the clarity that makes you effective. You start optimizing for looking the part instead of doing the work. You communicate to signal sophistication instead of creating understanding.
And ironically, that’s when you become least effective at the thing your impressive title says you should be good at.
Clarity over cleverness. Always.
Not just in your work. In your life. In who you are beneath every impressive title you’ll ever earn. That’s where the real expertise lives. That’s where the lasting impact comes from.
That’s where you find yourself again.
About the Author:
Leadership Strategist, Public Speaker, and bestselling author, Alinnette Casiano, is the founder of Growing Your EQ.™ She helps professionals lead with clarity, adaptability, and emotional intelligence. Her frameworks, including NeuroSCALE™, H.E.A.R.T.™, and Leading Beyond Prompts™, blend neuroscience, people-centered strategy, and practical leadership tools. She has spoken on stages like TEDx, She Leads AI Create, and AWS, and has been featured on CBS, ABC, NBC, FOX, and The CW, with collaborations across Amazon, Notion, Synthesia, and more.