The Reality of Sharing Your Story as a Chronic Boss

As a writer and marketer, I help leaders create their online presence through genuine storytelling. So that means I talk a lot about showing up in the most authentic way.

But what I don’t talk about enough is that not everyone can just “show up authentically”—or what it actually costs to do so.

This unsaid reality has been on my mind a lot lately, as I privately deal with deep grief caused by the loss of my soul dog. Inside, I feel like my entire personality is giving “grieving dog mom,” while on the outside, I try to maintain my (mostly) unflappable Mentally Fit Founder vibe.

It’s not easy. And it’s not because I feel like I have to put on a mask every day—I did that for too long. It’s because I’ve set boundaries around how much of this grieving process I want to share.

The decision not to share certain parts of your life isn’t a failure of authenticity—it’s often a necessity. It’s about protection, safety, and control.

Sometimes our private lives need time to catch up to our public personas. If your private life is behind your public life, that’s not dishonest. That’s reality.

Visibility Isn’t Neutral

For so many people with personal brands (especially Chronic Bosses), what we don’t share matters just as much as what we do.

Over the years, I’ve been asked more times than I can count: “Exactly how much do I need to share?” 

My answer has always been the same: You have to do what you feel comfortable with. The lesson of a story matters more than the intricate details.

But after having this conversation so many times and navigating my own public-private tension, I’ve realized something important: Sometimes boundaries aren’t optional.

Because for some, visibility isn’t neutral—it comes with real risk. Not everyone has the same power in being seen.

There is a critical layer of power and perception that the advice to “just be authentic” doesn’t take into account. When we share our stories (online or in person), we give up the ability to fully control the narrative.

No matter how clearly we communicate our experience, we can’t guarantee how it will be received.

What Sharing Can Cost

As much as we’d like to believe that all audiences will be receptive, the truth is—not in every case, not for everyone.

Yes, sharing your story can help others, but at what cost? When you share your chronic illness publicly, you are inherently opening yourself up to:

• Unnecessary opinions and advice (“JuSt tRy mEdiTaTing”)
• Professional consequences (I’ve heard from Chronic Bosses who have been fired)
• Personal blowback (fallouts with friends and family)
• A loss of peace (all I have to say is: don’t read the comments)

And then there’s the emotional labor. The explaining, the re-explaining, and the constant effort to help people understand something deeply complex.

Yes, Janet, I’ve tried meditating. But there are layers of trauma and genetics that predispose me to deep, dark depression—thank you very much.

Sometimes the mental toll can be more detrimental to your health than it’s worth. If you want to help others and grow a personal brand, you have to protect your energy first.

You Can’t Control How People Receive Your Story

You have to protect your own harmony because let’s be honest—there is a lot of mean girl energy online. There are far too many people who are quick to project their own discomfort or misunderstanding onto someone who is simply trying to share their truth.

I see it all the time. I follow a wonderful interabled couple who receive thousands of hateful comments regularly. They call it out, explain the harm, and share their pain.

But the haters continue to leave comments.  

Why? Because they can.

When we share our chronic illness story publicly, we aren’t at an intimate dinner with these people, telling our story with tears in our eyes reaching for their hand in comfort. We’re leaving it up them to make the interpretation about a story they heard on a screen or a stage. 

Some people will receive it with empathy. Others will distort it. And some will use it against you.

Unless, of course, we reclaim control. That’s where boundaries come in.

Setting Boundaries Is Owning Your Story and Your Power

Setting boundaries around what you share isn’t avoidance—it’s self-preservation. It’s owning your story and your power and remembering that visibility looks different for everyone. 

By deciding what you share, when, and how—you are protecting yourself. It’s only when you are purposefully leaving things out to make yourself look better that it becomes questionable. There is a difference between privacy and hiding. And if you’ve taken the time to define your boundaries, you’ll know the difference.

Before you continue to grow your personal brand, ask yourself:

• How does my chronic illness story fit into my public persona?
• What parts of my story do I feel comfortable sharing—and what do I want to keep for myself?
• What am I prepared to defend or explain if needed?
• What am I okay with people misunderstanding?

The answers may change over time. And that’s okay.

Telling your Chronic Boss story is powerful. It increases awareness, reduces stigma, and helps others feel less alone.

But none of that is worth the cost of your health and happiness.