My first thought in moments of darkness and doubt is, "Who can I call? Who can I share this with?" Connection and sharing saves me every time.

The thing that I've learned about taking risks is that the key question to ask is, "If this goes terribly, what will happen?" Usually, the answer is that the world won't come to a screeching halt. Usually you can go back. Maybe not to the exact same job, but usually to the same type of job.

You can't believe your own hype, or your own worst moments. Neither is as important as knowing your "why." The harder the challenges are, the more this matters. It is a true gift that I'm so grateful for to my core when someone else sees and acknowledges my why. But you can't expect it or need it. Your ability to really see yourself can power you through.

The most important part of my mental self-care is knowing who to call for what kinds of help.

When I think about work-life balance, I don't imagine it as a perfect day where I got to spend the exact right amount of time having an impact at work and snuggling with my kids at home. I never achieve that. But over the course of a month, or a quarter, or a year, I try to make time for the people and experiences I value.

Whether I'm traveling or at home in Seattle, my days rarely play out as it looks on my Outlook calendar - there's almost always something unexpected that comes up. But when I'm in town, my day usually starts at about 6 a.m., which is brutal for me because I'm really a night owl at heart.

I'm an Ivy League-educated lawyer, so you'd think the world wouldn't mess with me, right? But I've been paid $10,000 less than a less qualified man in the same role. I've had men I've worked with grab my leg or rub my back in ways that have made me feel uncomfortable. I've been taken off projects because I was pregnant, even though my pregnancies have been both been healthy and didn't impact my work at all.