This month, I had the privilege of being featured in my project’s internal magazine, recognising the recent publication of my book, Construction Project Management Success. It’s one of those moments that feels significant—not just because the book is now real and visible, but because it represents something much larger.
Behind every milestone are people who helped carry you forward. And while it’s easy to focus on the finished product—the book, the post, the moment—what matters just as much are the conversations, encouragement and quiet guidance that helped you get there.
Looking back, I can say with certainty: this wasn’t a solo effort. It never is.
The People Who Helped Me Grow
I’ve spent most of my career working in high-pressure, multicultural project environments. Over time, I encountered people who helped shape the way I think and lead. Some were mentors who challenged my assumptions and helped me see things differently. Others were colleagues or friends who offered practical advice, honest feedback, or the simple encouragement to keep going.
When I began writing the book, I underestimated how difficult it would be—not technically, but emotionally. Putting ideas into words requires clarity. Publishing them requires courage. And both demand far more than just time.
During those moments, I leaned on people who had written before me, people who had published, people who knew what it felt like to doubt their voice and still choose to speak anyway. They helped me shape the mindset I needed to keep writing.
Some coached me formally. Others offered a quiet word at the right time. Either way, they reminded me that I wasn’t alone—and that made all the difference.
Identity Is Built Over Time
One of the things I didn’t expect when writing the book was how much of the process would challenge my sense of identity.
Who am I to write a book? What makes my message worth sharing?
I know I’m not the only one who has asked those questions. And now that I’ve coached others through the same process, I see just how common it is.
That voice of doubt is something we all carry. But what I’ve learned—and what others helped me realise—is that identity is not fixed. It’s something we build over time, through practice, consistency, and the willingness to grow.
Every mentor I had, every coach who helped me work through a problem, contributed to the foundation that allowed me to show up fully in this work—not just as a writer, but as someone who helps others express their own voice.
Becoming What I Was Once Looking For
Today, I find myself in a different role.
I work with authors, coaches, and professionals who are trying to make sense of their ideas. People who have something valuable to say, but aren’t sure how to begin. People who feel stuck between ambition and uncertainty.
And more often than not, I recognise a piece of myself in their journey.
I’ve been the one trying to find the right words. I’ve been the one second-guessing every sentence. I’ve been the one wondering if anyone would care about what I had to say.
And that’s why I take this work so seriously. I know what it feels like. And I want to be the kind of guide that others were for me.
A Reminder and an Invitation
This blog isn’t just about the book. It’s not even really about the article. It’s about the truth that sits beneath both:
We rise because of the people who helped us rise.
So if you’re working toward something—writing a book, launching a coaching practice, or simply trying to clarify your next step—my suggestion is simple: seek out the support you need.
There are people willing to help. I know because I’ve been helped. And now, I want to be one of those people for others.
If you’re at the beginning of your journey, or midway through and unsure how to keep going, reach out. I’ll listen. I’ll ask the right questions. And if I can help, I will.
Because while the result might have your name on the cover, the truth is: it always takes a village.
– Alin Marin
