So Intimidating: My Journey as a Black Executive in Corporate America

Let’s not sugarcoat it: climbing the corporate ladder is a challenge for anyone. But doing it as a 6’4”, 270-pound Black man with tattoos is a whole different ballgame. People see you before they hear you. They’ve already decided who you are and what you’re about. In my journey, the veiled discrimination, the moments of being overlooked, and the backhanded comments about my supposed “intimidation factor” have all been part of the deal. It’s as if my presence alone demanded explanation, apology, or modification. But here’s the truth: I’m not built for shrinking myself. I’ve worked too hard, sacrificed too much, and learned too many lessons to compromise who I am.

Staying True While Moving Up

When I started out, the advice was always the same: blend in. Quiet your voice, cover the tattoos, don’t ruffle feathers. But blending in was never an option for me. Not when the standards for acceptance were rooted in someone else’s comfort.

Instead, I leaned into who I am. I learned to own my narrative and speak the truth, whether it was popular or not. I challenged peers, caused conflict, and pushed back against outdated processes and stale thinking. People called me tough. They called me difficult. But they also called me fair. Over time, my reputation grew as someone who got results—not by fitting in but by standing out and being unapologetically myself.

The Cost of Being “Authentic”

Here’s what people don’t tell you about authenticity: it’s expensive. The price shows up in your personal life, your relationships, your health. For years, I carried the weight of being the only one in the room—the only Black person, the only one pushing for real accountability, the only one challenging the status quo. That weight doesn’t just disappear when you clock out.

I’ve faced anxiety that crept into every corner of my life. My blood pressure spiked under the constant strain of proving my worth, of justifying my space at the table. My marriage suffered as I brought the stress of corporate battles home. There were times when I asked myself if it was all worth it. The answer wasn’t always clear.

Knowing When to Walk Away

If there’s one lesson I wish I had learned sooner, it’s this: not every company, every culture, or every boss deserves you. As a leader, you accept a certain level of compromise. But as a person of color in predominantly white spaces, the expectation often goes beyond compromise—it demands erasure.

Here’s the thing: no job, no paycheck, no title is worth your mental and physical health. Sometimes, the most courageous thing you can do is walk away. It’s okay to decide that a company isn’t for you. It’s okay to prioritize your peace. And it’s okay to have an exit plan.

Building a Better Path

I’ve made my peace with the path I’ve walked. The experiences have shaped me, scars and all. But I don’t want the next generation of Black professionals to feel like they’re navigating the climb alone. That’s why I’m offering something more than just advice—I’m offering connection.

For professionals of color who are battling the unspoken barriers, who are managing the invisible burdens, let’s connect. I’ve been there. I’ve lived it. And now, I want to help guide you through it. Together, we can build strategies for success—ones that don’t require you to compromise your identity or health. The corporate world doesn’t get to define you. You define you.

The climb is tough, no doubt. But you don’t have to do it alone.

-Tony