Coming from Nigeria, I was wired for “we.”
I led the team. We built the process. We turned it around.
That wasn’t false modesty — it was just how I understood contribution. Collective. Communal. You don’t hog the mic. You let the work speak through the team.
Then I walked into a different room. And the question changed: “What did you do?”
I had to sit with that. Not because I didn’t contribute — but because I wasn’t used to naming it that way.
I started noticing the people who moved rooms, who moved opportunities — they weren’t saying “we.” They were saying “I built,” “I led,” “I drove.” Fluently. Naturally. Like they weren't even thinking about it.
It took me a while to understand: this isn’t arrogance. It’s just a different grammar of ambition. And if you don’t learn it, your résumé, your interviews, your pitch — they’ll keep sounding like a group project when they need to sound like you.
So I’m learning to do both.
To still value the team — but to be clear about my own place within it. What I led. What I owned. What changed because I was there.
Even if you live in a culture of “we” — know your “I.”
Document it. Practice saying it. You don’t have to abandon the communal, but you must be able to name your part in it.
Because there are moments when the story has to come from you.