On Visibility.
I have found stepping into greater visibility this year both challenging and, at times, scary.
The old voices in my head kept taunting me: “Who do you think you are, to be so out there?”
“Why?” you might ask. “You seem to be seeking out such visibility?”
We all have backstories, and mine is that I grew up excruciatingly shy, almost ashamed to take up space. I was the plump, spotty one in a sporty, academic family. I often felt alien in a family of high achievers—both on the sports field and in the academic world.
In my twenties and thirties, as a political activist, I wanted to change the world, but I also wanted to stay invisible. I worked in the backrooms and trenches of the Anti-Apartheid movement rather than on the front lines of the marches.
As an entrepreneur, I became more visible, but I still battled extreme imposter syndrome. For 20 years, I was the public face of our company—more by default than by design—though I clearly had an entrepreneurial spirit. It wasn’t until my sixties, when I transitioned into becoming a speaker and a writer, that I finally felt truly congruent. This is who I was born to be. This is the voice God had gifted me.
So why was it still so challenging to embrace greater visibility?
My father was a visible, charismatic figure—an entrepreneur and an inspirational leader in Rotary International. Why, then, was I grappling with so many voices in my head?
I believe it’s because, deep down, I always sought my mother’s approval. She was the rock of our family when my father’s bipolar condition became challenging. Yet she was an extremely humble person who never sought the limelight. She taught sewing to domestic workers at church and supported my father’s Rotary journey. Even when I became an entrepreneur, I think she found it somewhat challenging to see me becoming more visible.
This year, when I appeared in 19 global publications and 24 podcasts and radios stations. I was featured on the cover of an international magazine called L’Officiel UK; I had to dig deep. I had to embrace the truth of what was being said about my journey. Their words entirely captured the spirit of my book, Belonging, and its message for the world.
Visionary Leader in Construction and Coaching
About Alison Weihe
Alison Weihe is an award-winning entrepreneur and influential figure in South Africa’s construction industry, renowned for her company’s design-driven approach, ethical integrity, and commitment to excellence. Over the past six years, Alison has expanded her expertise into coaching, speaking, and writing, earning recognition in this space, including a nomination in the 2025 Women of Stature Awards for Coaching and Mentoring.
Her journey is deeply rooted in nearly two decades of political activism, where she worked alongside leaders like President Cyril Ramaphosa. This background profoundly informs her empathetic, values-driven leadership style.
Her memoir, ‘Belonging’: Finding Tribes of Meaning, released in August 2024, has received widespread acclaim, featuring in 10 global publications and numerous South African articles. Known as a “Soul Speaker,” Alison’s authentic storytelling captivates audiences, positioning her as a thought leader who inspires personal growth and community building.
It was the truth—not embellishment. It affirmed my role as a messenger, not a celebrity. My message seems to have resonated deeply with many. A friend told me she sobbed the entire way through my book because it touched her so deeply. Others have shared how reading my story evoked the story in their own souls, giving them the courage to claim their voice.
And so, I step into the light—not for the limelight but to embody the message Nelson Mandela quoted from Marianne Williamson:
“Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness, that most frightens us. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won’t feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. “
At times, when I still feel tremulous and overwhelmed by my growing visibility, I remind myself to step into faith. That is my north star—nothing else.
And I recall Amanda Gorman’s poignant brave words on the steps of Capitol Hill:
“There will always be light if only we are brave enough to see it, if only we are brave enough to be it.”
Have you ever struggled with the visibility that comes with claiming your voice?
