The New Way to Work - Chapter 2: Purpose is Lived - Not posted

There’s a moment no one warns you about, when you stop posting your purpose…and start living it.

It’s not the high of starting.
Not the thrill of first wins.
Not even the fear of failing.

It’s the moment after the noise fades.
When the likes and comments dry up.
When the applause stops.

It’s quiet there.
Unbearably quiet.

And for a while, you’ll wonder if you’ve made a mistake…

Three days ago, I had a moment.

Not the inspiring kind.

The kind where you start questioning everything you’ve built, even the parts that look “successful.”

A post I had poured lots of time into sat online with no reaction.
No flood of DMs.
No surge of potential clients.
Just... silence.

I couldn’t understand why. It was thoughtful. Emotional. Strategic.

I felt hollow.
Confused.
Embarrassed.

Had I been wrong about what I was here to do?
Was the work even real if no one else seemed to notice?

That day, I almost quit.

Not in a dramatic way.
Just... quietly.
The way most dreams die, not with a bang, but with a slow erosion of belief.

But something stubborn in me is still standing.

That was the trigger.

So instead of posting again, I felt a strong pull to write something else, something that I have been postponing for years:

I wrote a letter to my papi (daddy).

Not to send it.
But to spit out a slow-acting poison…

The pen took on a life of its own, and what came out surprised me:

“Siempre quise ser la mejor para tí.
Pero el reconocimiento nunca llegó.”

“I always wanted to be the best for you.
But the recognition never came.”

That line broke me open.

Because it wasn’t just about him.

It was about my self-worth.
My relationships.
My business.
 
I’ve been quietly waiting for someone to clap.

To tell me I’m doing it right.
That I’m good enough.
That I’ve made them proud.

This is the weight that had been clouding my purpose.

But because I’ve tied it to performance.
To applause.
To the approval that makes me crumble when it doesn’t arrive.

The letter kept flowing…

“La Nora de 7 años está cansada de esperar por ti y que le digas que tiene permiso de volar.”

“7-year-old Nora is tired of waiting for you to tell her she’s allowed to fly.”

Something shifted in my body when I wrote that.
I cried. A lot.
And after the intense tears, a strange lightness.
Like a truth finally touched the Earth.

It was never about him.
It was about the part of me that still needed permission to feel whole.

And that was the first time I really understood what it means to live in alignment with Purpose:

Purpose doesn’t live on the grid.

Or in a perfectly worded post.

Purpose lives in what you choose to heal, so you don’t pass it on.

In the integrity of the work you do when nobody sees it.

It’s born in the choices you make when there’s no audience to reward you.

When you show up to write, to serve, to build, not because someone is watching, but because you are watching.

Because you know what you’re here for, even when no one else does yet.

It lives in who you become when you stop performing and start remembering.

Because we don’t find our purpose by thinking harder.

We remember it. When we finally put down everything we were carrying that was never ours.

Here’s what I remembered that day:

Purpose isn’t a performance. It’s a relationship with your own integrity.

If you still need applause to feel worthy, your purpose will always feel fragile.

You can’t hear your calling when you're still tuned to someone else’s expectations.

Your real work might look quieter than the one you planned. That doesn’t make it less important.

You don’t “build” your Purpose. You become someone Who Can Live It.

That’s the real threshold most people never cross.

They chase momentum, recognition, proof.
And when it doesn’t come fast enough, they pivot. Not because they’re evolving, but because they’re afraid they’re invisible.

But the truth is:

The invisible hours are the work.

The depth you build is the very thing that later creates the resonance, the opportunities, the trust that can’t be faked.

No viral moment can shortcut it.

No strategy can substitute for it.

And strangely, once you surrender to that…
once you stop trying to make your purpose perform for others…
that’s often when the outside world finally begins to feel it.

Not because you demanded to be seen.
But because you became someone worth seeing.

If you’re in that quiet space right now...
If you’re wondering whether your work matters if no one sees it yet...
If you’re tempted to chase validation instead of anchoring deeper...

I want to tell you:

The silence isn’t proof you’re lost.
It’s proof you’re on the path.

This is the season when your roots grow deeper than anyone can see.

This is when your work stops being about “building a brand”
and starts being about building a life.

Aligned, honest, true.

Let this question linger in your day:

Where are you still posting your purpose… instead of living it?
Not to judge.
But to remember:
You were never incomplete to begin with.

BONUS: If no one were watching…what would you still choose to build?

 The New Way in Practice

A purpose-led business isn’t just one that looks good online.

It’s one that feels deeply honest and fulfilling,

even when no one’s watching.

If your business appears aligned on the outside but feels off on the inside,
that’s a sign something deeper needs to shift.

True alignment means designing a business around your values,
your capacity, and the life you actually want,
not the one you think you should want.

If that’s where you are, I’ll help you find the disconnect.
I’m offering a complimentary Alignment Review:
I’ll look at your business model and share 3 honest shifts to bring it back into alignment.
Most founders tell me it’s the first time their business finally feels like theirs again, clear, true to their voice, and built to support how they actually want to live and work.

→ Request your Alignment Review

Note: This review is only available to you as a member of The Shift Newsletter. You won’t find it on my website or social media, it’s my way of offering something personal, practical, and powerful to those who resonate with this work. I only do 5 of these per month to keep them personalised. If you’re feeling the pull, trust your timing.

Until next time,
— Nora