I am not a thought leader.

At least not about storytelling. Oh, sure, I might have a brilliant insight now and then, and I have a good knack for recognizing and synthesizing the thought leadership of others, as well as applying thought in one area of story practice to another area.

But, as I’ve noted here many times, I’m not a practitioner but a curator and reporter about my passion, applied storytelling.

I thought about all this because Michael Margolis just posted an enthusiastic and inspiring piece, Why Your Thought Leadership = Career Independence.

He lists a bunch of great business advantages to thought leadership, takes readers through his own journey to being a thought leader, notes how it’s easier than ever to be a thought leader, and rounds out the piece with tips for becoming a thought leader.

I could be a thought leader. I have a pretty good platform here. I am perhaps a minor thought leader in the realm of career management; I’ve written eight books in that sphere, for goodness sake. But I don’t care a lot about that field anymore.

And even though I’ve written some articles I’m very proud of (and, of course, the books), I always conduct a ton of research and rely largely on quoting others rather than articulating my own opinion.

So why am I not a thought leader?

Well, for one thing, I don’t really have anything to sell. Six years later, I still haven’t figured out how to make money from my passion. I have joked (though rather accurately) that I make about $1.39 a month from Google ads on this blog. Now I don’t even make that because Google hijacked the blog with an ad that covered the whole screen and had to be clicked out of. So I dumped them. (I think the ad is gone. Readers?)

I have also always been thin-skinned and highly sensitive to criticism. Kindergarten report card: Takes criticism well = Unsatisfactory. Seriously.

If you criticize my books or blog posts, hey, that’s not me; I’m just reporting what others think.

The very fact that I insist on hiding behind the curator/reporter label shows my lack of courage in my own thought leadership.

We women are more likely than men to feel fraudulent, to lack confidence in our own expertise and thought leadership. Not that there aren’t plenty of women who are thought leaders. I’m just saying that if you asked men and women if they aspired to be thought leaders, more women than men would say they couldn’t possibly because they feel fraudulent. Lots has been written about the phenomenon; there’s a whole blog (with quiz!) on The Imposter Syndrome. Men experience the Imposter Syndrome, too, but it’s far more common in women.

Perhaps I’ve shown thought leadership by suggesting that it’s harder for women than for men to be thought leaders. But then just look at how how I waffled by adding a question mark to the headline.

Do you think it’s harder for women to be thought leaders than it is for men?