She Was Right About Everything Except This
My mentor was brilliant. I want to be clear about that before I say anything else. She had built something real, she understood the industry in ways I didn't, and she gave me advice that was genuinely good for her situation and genuinely wrong for mine.
I followed it anyway. For about eighteen months, I followed advice that I knew, somewhere in the back of my head, wasn't right for me. And the reason I followed it is embarrassing: she said it with such certainty that I assumed my doubt was the problem.
The Certainty Problem
There's a specific dynamic that happens with mentors who are very successful. Their success becomes evidence that their approach is correct, and their certainty about their approach becomes evidence that your uncertainty is a weakness. The logic is circular but it's hard to see that when you're inside it.
The advice she gave me was to specialize earlier and more narrowly than felt right to me. She had built her career on deep specialization and it had worked. She was certain it was the right path. I was uncertain, and I interpreted my uncertainty as inexperience rather than information.
It took me about a year to realize that my uncertainty was actually correct. I'm not a specialist. I'm someone who does several things at a medium-high level and the combination of those things is what makes me useful. Forcing myself into a narrow specialization was making me worse at my actual strengths, not better at the specialized one.
What I Wish I'd Done
I wish I'd asked her: "Is this advice for someone like me, or is it advice for someone like you?" That's a different question than "Is this good advice?" Good advice is contextual. What worked for her career, in her industry, with her specific strengths, might not work for mine.
The thing about trusting your own read is that it requires you to believe your read is worth trusting. When you're early in your career and someone successful is telling you something with confidence, it's hard to hold onto your own perception. But your perception is data. It's not infallible, but it's not nothing either.
The Part That's Actually Useful
I don't regret having the mentor. I don't even regret following the advice for as long as I did — I learned things from the attempt that I wouldn't have learned otherwise. What I regret is not asking better questions earlier.
The questions I should have been asking: What's the evidence that this approach works for people with my specific profile? What did you try that didn't work? What would you do differently if you were starting now, in this market, with my background?
Those questions would have revealed that her advice was based on conditions that no longer existed and a profile that wasn't mine. That's not a criticism of her — it's just the nature of advice. It's always autobiographical.
The community and growth conversations I've had since have been more useful than any single mentor relationship, partly because they're more diverse. Multiple perspectives, multiple paths, multiple definitions of success. That's harder to navigate but it's more honest.
More on coming into your own and at girlnextup.