Showing Up. Listening. Building Community: My Story, One Year In

4 February 2026

Regine Nelson: 

One year ago, I made a decision that seemed risky at the time: I would post on LinkedIn consistently. Four to five times a week. No scheduling. No content calendar. Just showing up, thinking out loud, and engaging in real conversations with other communications professionals. 

Today, looking back at what that consistency created, I’m struck by something unexpected: the numbers matter far less than what happened between the posts. 

The Metrics Tell a Story 

Let me start with the visible markers. Over the past twelve months: 

• I gained over 10,000 new followers 
• I was featured on 6 podcasts and participated in 4 webinars 
• I spoke at 4 conferences 
• I was quoted or highlighted in 9 articles, blogs, and industry features ● I had over 75 coffee chats with people in my network 
• I met over 100 people in person across the U.S., Spain, and Germany 

These numbers are genuinely humbling. They represent real people who decided to spend their time listening to what I had to say. That’s not something I take lightly. 

But here’s the thing: these metrics were never the point. 

What Actually Mattered 

If you had told me a year ago that I would gain 10,000 followers, I probably would have thought that was success. But living through this past year has taught me something different. 

What mattered most wasn’t the audience size. It was what happened in the conversations. 

Real conversations. The kind where someone from a company you’ve never heard of reads your post about IC strategy and realizes they’re not alone in their frustration. Where a communicator facing burnout sees themselves reflected in your vulnerability and decides to ask for help. Where someone building their personal brand sees a different model—one based on authenticity rather than perfection—and decides to try it themselves. 

What mattered was discovering new perspectives. Learning from people I would never have met in my regular professional circles. Hearing from communicators in markets I’d never worked

in, at companies of every size, facing challenges that looked different on the surface but revealed similar patterns underneath. 

What mattered was watching more diverse faces and points of view gain traction. Seeing the conversation in internal communications shift because more voices were in the room. Watching women, people of color, neurodivergent professionals, and emerging leaders stake their claim on thought leadership. 

What mattered was finding community. Real community. Not the performative kind. Three communities formed or deepened during this year: ICology, Off the Record, and The Strategy Studio. These aren’t networking groups. They’re spaces where communication professionals can be honest about what’s not working, where we admit uncertainty, where we learn together. 

And underlying all of it: the constant, unwavering support from my family, friends, colleagues, and this growing circle of people I’ve come to care about deeply. 

The Hidden Gift of Consistency 

There’s something that happens when you show up consistently. When you post four to five times a week, week after week, month after month, you can’t fake it. 

Consistency reveals authenticity. It also reveals inauthenticity—which is why some people can’t sustain it. You can’t maintain a false persona for twelve months. The voice cracks. The mask slips. Eventually, what comes through is who you actually are. 

For me, showing up consistently changed three fundamental things: 

How I think. Writing regularly forces clarity. When you have to articulate an idea multiple times a week, you can’t hide behind jargon or vagueness. You have to know what you actually believe. This practice has made me a sharper strategic thinker. 

How I write. Vulnerability became my competitive advantage. I write about ADHD and how it affects my work. I write about imposter syndrome, about the gaps in the IC profession, about what isn’t working. I was terrified that this authenticity would undermine my credibility. The opposite happened. It deepened it. 

How I connect. When you’re genuinely interested in other people’s work and you show up in their conversations, something shifts. I comment on others’ posts regularly. I ask questions. I share their work. This isn’t a tactic. It’s just what happens when you’re actually part of a community rather than broadcasting to an audience. 

The ADHD Factor (And Why It Matters)

I should name something here because it’s relevant to how I’ve approached this whole year: I have ADHD. My brain doesn’t work well with schedules and batching (on most days, especially for hobbies and joyful activities). It works well with momentum and real-time response. 

The fact that I committed to four to five posts a week, rather than batching content monthly, wasn’t a strategic decision. It was a neurodiversity accommodation. I was honest about how my brain works and built a system around that rather than forcing myself into someone else’s model. 

Many of us in the IC profession are constantly told there’s one “right way” to do things. Schedule your content. Batch your ideas. Build a content calendar. These are great strategies for some people. They don’t work for me. And instead of fighting that, I decided to lean into it. 

The lesson here extends beyond personal productivity. It’s about permission. Permission to build thought leadership in a way that actually works for you. Permission to reject the prescribed path and create your own. Permission to show up as you actually are, not as you think you should be. 

The Lesson for the Profession 

If you’re reading this and thinking “I could never do that,” I want to challenge that gently. 

You probably could. Not in the exact way I did—your way would look different, obviously. But you could show up consistently in some form. You could share your thinking. You could engage in real conversations. You could build community around the work you care about. 

The barrier isn’t usually time or talent. It’s permission. Permission to take up space. Permission to have opinions. Permission to be visible when so many of us were trained to be behind the scenes. 

Here’s what I know for certain: the internal communications profession is changing. The split between tactical execution and strategic influence is widening. The communicators who will thrive are the ones who position themselves as strategic advisors, not content creators. Who build their own visibility rather than waiting for someone else to promote them. Who engage in the broader conversation about what this profession is becoming. 

That requires showing up. Consistently. Authentically. Over time. 

What’s Next 

One year in, I’m stepping into the next chapter. I’m launching consistent video content. I’ve been talking about it, delaying it, overthinking it. (The ADHD tax is real, y’all.) But now I’m pressing record.

This isn’t about having all the answers. It’s about continuing the conversation in a different format. Continuing to show up. Continuing to listen. Continuing to build community with people who care about elevating this profession. 

For You 

So here’s my invitation: What conversation have you been wanting to start? What perspective have you been sitting on? What if you showed up for the next twelve months the way you actually work, not the way you think you should? 

The IC profession doesn’t need more perfect content. It needs more real voices. More diverse perspectives. More people willing to say what’s actually happening instead of what we wish were happening. 

Thoughtful work still resonates. Community still forms when you stay long enough to listen. The question is: are you ready to show up?

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Regine Nelson is a global internal communications and employee experience leader with more than 15 years of experience helping organizations align strategy, culture, and communication—particularly during periods of transformation.