What a National Award Nomination Taught Me

What a national award nomination taught me about humility and drive is that recognition can be both a celebration and a mirror. It reflects the work you have done, yet it also reveals how much of that work depended on other people: family members who made space for ambition, colleagues who offered honest advice, audiences who kept listening, and strangers who trusted you with their stories.

I have spent years in broadcasting, journalism, authorship, public speaking and advocacy for women’s health. Each chapter has carried its own version of achievement, but an award nomination brought the idea of success into sharper focus. It reminded me that professional momentum matters, while the values behind it matter more. For anyone building a career in Australia, that balance is especially relevant in a market that rewards visibility but increasingly asks for authenticity, accountability and purpose.

Recognition Changes The Way You See The Work

When your name appears on a national shortlist, the first reaction can be delight. There is a rush of gratitude, followed quickly by a quieter thought: “What exactly is being recognised here?” Is it the years of early mornings, the live broadcasts, the books, the risks taken in public, or the decision to continue after a difficult season?

That question made me look beyond the polished surface of a career. An award nomination does not represent one speech, one television segment or one successful project. It gathers up hundreds of ordinary decisions. It includes turning up prepared, making a difficult phone call, listening to someone whose experience is different from your own and continuing to learn when you would rather protect your reputation.

This is where humility became practical rather than decorative. Humility is not pretending that your contribution is insignificant. It is recognising the full network behind it. In Australia, where professional relationships often grow through repeated, informal contact—a conversation after a conference in Melbourne, a coffee before a client event in Sydney, or a quick exchange after a community fundraiser—trust can be as important as a polished résumé.

Humility Is A Form Of Strength

There is a common misunderstanding that humility requires shrinking yourself. Women are particularly familiar with that pressure. We may be encouraged to be capable but not intimidating, ambitious but not demanding, confident but endlessly accommodating. I have learned that genuine humility does not ask us to become smaller. It allows us to stand firmly in our achievements without claiming sole ownership of them.

The nomination reminded me to acknowledge success clearly. Saying “I am proud of this work” is not arrogance. It becomes grounded when followed by an understanding of what made the work possible and who benefited from it. Recognition should widen our gratitude, not inflate our ego.

That distinction matters in leadership. A speaker, founder or executive who accepts praise without listening can quickly lose perspective. By contrast, a leader who shares credit, admits uncertainty and stays open to challenge creates psychological safety. Australian workplaces are paying closer attention to psychosocial hazards, respectful conduct and workplace culture, alongside legal responsibilities under frameworks such as the Sex Discrimination Act and the Respect@Work reforms. Humility supports those standards because it makes room for other voices.

Drive Needs A Better Definition

For much of my career, drive looked like endurance. Keep going, take the next opportunity, meet the deadline, say yes, travel, perform and start again. That pace can create impressive results, but it can also disguise exhaustion as ambition. The award nomination prompted me to ask whether I was pursuing meaningful progress or simply responding to the next demand.

Drive is more sustainable when it has direction. It is the willingness to work consistently towards something worthwhile, even when applause is absent. It includes preparation, boundaries and the courage to change course. Sometimes the most driven decision is declining a project that does not align with your principles, protecting time for your health or allowing an idea to mature before presenting it publicly.

This perspective resonates with the realities of working life across Australia. A professional in Brisbane may be managing a growing business around school pick-ups and long commutes; someone in Perth may be collaborating with a national team across time zones; a freelancer in Adelaide may be balancing unpredictable contracts with rising operating costs. Ambition has to fit a real life. It cannot depend on permanent overextension.

Your Personal Brand Must Have A Backbone

Public recognition can create pressure to perform a version of yourself that appears safe, successful and endlessly certain. That pressure is especially strong online, where a carefully edited image can travel further than a nuanced conversation. My experience has taught me that a personal brand is more durable when it is built from consistent values rather than constant self-promotion.

The aim is not to reveal everything. Privacy, discernment and professional boundaries remain essential. The aim is to make sure that what you communicate matches how you work. I explore this balance in personal brand principles, particularly the importance of building visibility without selling away your identity.

For Australian professionals, authenticity also needs to account for the local market. Audiences can be quick to notice exaggerated claims, especially in a relatively connected business community where reputations travel through referrals. A founder speaking in Canberra, a consultant pitching in Melbourne or an author appearing at a festival in Hobart does not need to imitate an overseas influencer. Clear expertise, warmth and reliability are often more persuasive than a louder digital presence.

The Private Work Behind Public Confidence

An award nomination is visible. The preparation behind it rarely is. People see the stage, the interview, the publication or the announcement, but they may not see the therapy session, the difficult family conversation, the rejected proposal or the morning when confidence had to be rebuilt from scratch.

That hidden work has shaped my understanding of resilience. Resilience is not an instruction to tolerate everything. It is the capacity to recover, adapt and seek support while remaining connected to what matters. For women navigating burnout, health concerns, career change or caring responsibilities, this distinction is critical. Wellbeing should not be treated as a reward that arrives after success; it is part of the infrastructure that makes meaningful success possible.

There are practical Australian considerations here. Access to Medicare-supported mental health care, employer assistance programmes and flexible work arrangements can vary according to circumstance and location. The National Employment Standards provide a foundation for workplace rights, while individual employers may offer additional flexibility. Knowing those rights and asking for support is not a sign of weak commitment. It is a responsible way to protect the energy required for long-term contribution.

Turning Recognition Into Responsibility

The most valuable part of being nominated was not the possibility of winning. It was the reminder that visibility creates responsibility. When people hear your story, they may use it to make sense of their own. That does not mean presenting yourself as an expert in every struggle. It means being careful with influence and honest about the parts that remain unresolved.

This is central to the work I do through This Girl Is On Fire. Empowerment is not a slogan placed over a difficult reality. It is the ongoing work of helping women trust their voices, understand their worth and make decisions with greater freedom. Sometimes that involves a keynote or a public conversation. Sometimes it is a private moment when someone realises she is allowed to want a different life.

My professional story includes broadcasting, writing, advocacy and speaking, but those labels do not fully describe the journey. The through-line is a belief that personal growth becomes more powerful when it can be shared generously. Recognition has encouraged me to use a platform with care, to champion other women without turning their experiences into content, and to remember that every audience is made up of people carrying unseen pressures.

Ambition Can Stay Human

The nomination changed my relationship with achievement because it separated applause from purpose. Applause is lovely, and I am grateful for it. It can open doors, strengthen a message and acknowledge years of work. Yet it is temporary. Purpose is what remains when the room is empty and the announcement has passed.

I still have goals. I still prepare intensely, accept meaningful challenges and care about doing excellent work. Humility has not softened my ambition into passivity. It has made that ambition more selective. I want to build work that is useful, truthful and generous, whether I am hosting an event, speaking to a corporate audience, writing about wellbeing or encouraging a woman to take her next step.

For me, the lasting lesson is simple: let recognition encourage you, but do not let it define you. Accept the honour, thank the people who helped you reach it and return to the work with clearer values. Drive can move a career forward; humility keeps that movement connected to people. Together, they create a version of success that can withstand scrutiny, support wellbeing and continue to matter long after the spotlight fades.