| What is your “Speaker Superpower”? | |
| My speaker superpower is the ability to fuse strategy with soul. You know that feeling when someone walks into a room and everything just shifts? That’s what happens when I speak—not because I’m trying to be impressive, but because I genuinely believe every person in that audience has a story worth telling, and I’m there to help them see it. I joke that I’m a “celebrity publicist gone rogue,” but honestly? My real gift is helping people fall back in love with their own voices. I’ve been fortunate to speak everywhere from the World Economic Forum headquarters in New York to Harvard Medical School, but some of my most powerful moments have happened in conference rooms with twelve entrepreneurs who thought they were “too boring” to get noticed. The thing about visibility strategies is they can sound so clinical and intimidating. “Build your thought leadership.” “Develop your personal brand,” etc. I take all that business-speak and translate it into something that actually makes sense: How do you show up as yourself? How do you tell your story in a way that makes people lean in? How do you go from being the best-kept secret in your industry to being the person everyone wants to work with? People tell me I have magnetic energy and an unforgettable laugh (guilty as charged!), but what I’m really doing is holding up a mirror. When I share stories about my own messy journey from publicist to platform-builder, audience members start thinking, “Wait, if she figured it out, maybe I can too.” That’s why I created things like PR Rockstar Skool and 100 Women to Watch. Yes, getting media attention is great, but what I’m really after is helping people build something bigger—a legacy that outlasts any single article or interview. When I step on stage, my goal isn’t to be the smartest person in the room. It’s to make everyone else feel like they’re the star of their own story. Because they are. They just need someone to remind them of that fact and give them the tools to let the world see their brilliance too. | |
| How does your message empower others? | |
| When I started the 100 Women to Watch campaign, I had no idea what I’d uncover. I’ve sat across from stay-at-home moms who’ve built incredible communities, CEOs running multi-million dollar companies, celebrities at the height of their careers, and politicians fighting for change. On paper, we couldn’t be more different. But in those quiet, honest moments? We’re all asking the same questions: Am I enough? Does my voice actually matter? What if I put myself out there and people judge me—or worse, what if no one cares at all? It hit me that these fears are universal. The mom launching her first blog feels the same knot in her stomach as the executive preparing for a board presentation. We’re all wrestling with that voice that whispers, “Who are you to think you deserve to be heard?” That’s where my work comes in. I don’t tell people to “fake it till you make it” or pretend they have it all figured out. Instead, I say, “Hey, those butterflies? That self-doubt? It’s normal. Now let’s work with it, not against it.” Visibility isn’t about being flawless or having all the answers. It’s about showing up as yourself—messy, imperfect, real—and trusting that your authentic voice is exactly what someone else needs to hear. I’ve watched this shift happen over and over. Someone walks into my coaching session convinced they have nothing valuable to offer, and they leave ready to pitch their idea, start their podcast, or finally speak up in meetings. When I’m on stage or building platforms like PR Rockstar Skool, I’m essentially holding up a mirror and saying, “You already have everything you need. Now let’s help the world see it too.” Because here’s what I know: when one person finds the courage to be genuinely themselves, it creates a ripple effect. Someone watching thinks, “If she can do it, maybe I can too.” And that’s how real change happens—one authentic voice at a time. | |
| What inspired you to start speaking or coaching? | |
| I’ll never forget the moment everything clicked for me. I was working a Broadway opening night as a publicist, focused on making sure my clients looked perfect and hit their marks. It was typical for me to always be behind the scenes, making sure everyone else shines while I blend into the background. Then, this well-known NYC weatherman—someone I’d only seen on TV—spotted me across the red carpet and waved me over. Not my clients. Me. He introduced me to some seriously big names, and suddenly I’m standing there under those bright lights, just having a normal conversation with them. Like normal people. About life, about work, about everything and nothing. In that moment, something shifted. I realized that all these people I’d put on pedestals? They were just humans having conversations. The red carpet wasn’t an exclusive club for the few, it was just a space where stories got shared and connections got made. And this weatherman, who could have easily ignored the publicist in the corner, chose to wave me over and make room. That’s when it hit me: I want to be that person. I want to be the one waving people over to their own red-carpet moments. Throughout my career working with celebrities, CEOs, and global organizations, I kept noticing the same pattern. The most brilliant ideas and incredible people were getting overlooked, not because they weren’t talented, but because they didn’t know how to tell their story in a way that compelled people stop and listen. I had tools available to me, like years of understanding how visibility really works, how to craft messages that land, how to help people step into their confidence—but I was only sharing them with clients who could afford agency fees. Meanwhile, there were entrepreneurs, visionaries, and everyday leaders with just as much to offer, sitting on the sidelines thinking they didn’t belong. That red carpet moment changed everything for me. I started speaking because I could reach more people at once, showing them that there’s room for all of us under those lights. Coaching became my way of walking alongside people as they discovered what I learned that night—that stepping forward isn’t about becoming someone else. It’s about realizing you already belong in the conversation. The more I shared my own journey—the polished wins and the messy failures—the more people said, “If she can do it, maybe I can too.” And that’s exactly the point. I’m not trying to turn people into celebrities. I’m helping them see that their voice, their story, their perspective already matters. They just need someone to wave them over and show them there’s room on the red carpet for everyone. | |
| What is the best piece of advice you’ve ever received in your career as a speaker? | |
| My mentor used to say something that stuck with me, even when I didn’t fully understand it yet: “You cannot achieve at a level to which you have not been exposed.” For the longest time, I held onto those words without really grasping their power. But then one day, something clicked. I was reflecting on my own journey, thinking about all the moments that had shifted my perspective, when I suddenly flipped her wisdom: “Wait—that means I CAN achieve anything I HAVE been exposed to.” Game changer. I started thinking about all the moments that had shaped my possibilities. That weatherman who waved me onto the red carpet. The first time I saw a woman give a keynote that made an entire room lean forward. The CEO who told me her story over coffee and made me realize that “powerful” doesn’t always look like what we think it should. Each of those moments planted a seed. They showed me what was possible, even when I couldn’t see it for myself yet. That’s when I understood why some people seem to break through while others stay stuck. It’s not about talent or luck—it’s about exposure. Have you seen someone like you succeed? Have you witnessed what’s possible? Have you been in a room where you thought, “Oh, I could do that too”? Now when I step on stage or work with a client, I’m not just teaching strategies or sharing tips. I’m literally trying to be that exposure for someone else. I want to be the person in their story who showed them what was possible. Because here’s what I know: once you’ve seen it, you can’t unsee it. Once someone shows you that there’s room for your voice, your story, your way of doing things—that changes everything. You start believing not just that it’s possible, but that it’s possible for YOU. That’s why I share my messiest failures alongside my biggest wins. Someone needs to see that you can stumble your way to success, that you don’t have to have it all figured out, that the red carpet moment can happen to the girl who was just trying to do her job behind the scenes. My mentor’s words still guide a lot of what I do. I’m admittingly in the business of exposure now—showing people glimpses of their own potential until they can’t help but step into it. | |
| What are some of your most memorable moments or achievements in this field? | |
| My most defining career moment didn’t happen on some fancy stage or in a boardroom full of executives. It happened on a completely ordinary weekday when I made a decision that scared me to my core: I was going to bet everything on my own voice. I remember sitting there, staring at my computer screen, finger hovering over the “send” button on an email that would change everything. I was about to step fully into speaking and entrepreneurship, with no safety net, no guarantee, just me and this crazy belief that I had something worth saying. The fear was real. What if I failed? What if nobody cared what I had to offer? But you know what was even scarier? The thought of staying small forever. So I hit send. That decision revealed something I wasn’t expecting. It showed me exactly who my real cheering section was. Some people I thought would support me went quiet. Others I barely knew became my biggest champions. It was like a giant sorting hat for my life, and honestly, I’m grateful for the clarity. Everything changed after that leap. Suddenly, opportunities like speaking at Harvard Medical School didn’t feel impossible. They felt like natural next steps for someone who had already chosen to believe in herself. And what I realized is that those big-name stages aren’t actually what I treasure most. The moments that really get me are the ones watching a client finally pitch their idea after months of “I’m not ready yet.” Getting a text from someone who attended one of my talks saying they asked for the interview. Seeing a woman in my community launch the podcast she’d been dreaming about for years. Those are the real achievements. Not just the stages I’ve spoken on, but the ripple effect of one person, me, deciding to say “yes” to being seen, and then helping others do the same. Because that’s what I learned: the moment you stop waiting for permission and start giving it to yourself, everything shifts. And suddenly, being visible isn’t scary anymore. It’s simply who you are. | |
| How do you stay motivated and inspired to continually grow your influence? | |
| I used to think motivation meant grinding harder, pushing through when I felt empty, saying yes to everything because that’s what “successful” people do. I burned out. Hard. Now I’ve learned that real motivation comes from alignment, not exhaustion. When I’m grounded in who I am and clear on why this work matters, the energy just flows. It doesn’t feel forced. My mornings have become sacred to me. I start with meditation—nothing fancy, just ten minutes of quiet. Then I journal, usually just stream-of-consciousness thoughts that help me process whatever’s swirling around in my head. And I move my body, whether that’s a walk around the block or dancing badly to whatever song makes me smile. It sounds simple, but when my body and spirit are clear, my message comes through with so much more power. I can feel the difference when I show up centered versus when I’m running on fumes and caffeine. But what really keeps me going is community. Through the 100 Women to Watch campaign and PR Rockstar Skool, I get a front-row seat to incredible courage every single day. I watch women who were terrified to post on LinkedIn become keynote speakers. I see entrepreneurs who thought they were “too boring” land their dream clients. Their wins remind me why I started this work in the first place. When someone tells me they finally spoke up in that meeting or pitched their biggest idea yet, it’s like rocket fuel for my soul. Their courage makes me braver too. And what keeps me anchored is that I stopped chasing followers and started focusing on impact. If my work helps just one person believe their story matters, that’s influence. If someone watches me mess up and keep going, and that gives them permission to try too, that’s worth everything. Some days are harder than others, sure. But I know that every time I show up—even imperfectly—someone else feels permission to do the same. And that’s enough motivation to last a lifetime. | |
| How does your brand reflect your core values? | |
| I can’t stand when someone tries to turn you into a polished version of someone else. I’ve seen it happen too many times, brilliant people getting coached into these cookie-cutter “personal brands” that strip away everything that makes them powerful. That’s not what I’m about. My brand exists because I believe visibility should amplify who you already are, not create some fake version that looks good on LinkedIn but feels hollow in real life. When I work with someone, I’m not trying to polish them into perfection. I’m helping them see their own power and then turn up the volume on it. Community is a core value for me as well. I know what it feels like to stand on the outside wondering if there’s room for someone like me. That experience made me intentional about creating spaces where people are celebrated for who they are, not who they think they have to be. And then there’s courage, the value that runs deepest through everything I do. Not the kind of courage that looks flawless from the outside, but the kind that says, “I don’t have it all figured out, but I’m showing up anyway.” The courage to take risks when the outcome isn’t guaranteed, to speak truth when silence would be easier, to claim your space when doubt tries to convince you to shrink. Every time I show up—on stage, in my content, and in the way I coach—I try to model that kind of courage. Because when you stand in your truth, even imperfectly, you give everyone watching permission to do the same. | |
| What do you want audiences to remember after experiencing your presentation or session? | |
| If there’s one thing I hope people take away from hearing me speak, it’s this: we’re all taking this whole thing way too seriously. I mean, yes, your dreams matter. Your voice matters. Your story absolutely matters. But somewhere along the way, we got convinced that pursuing our goals had to feel like running a marathon in a business suit. That’s just not true. I want people to remember my laugh (and they typically do). Not because it’s particularly special, but because I hope it reminds them that it’s okay to actually enjoy this journey. We weren’t put here to be perfect little LinkedIn posts come to life. We were put here to be messy, real, present humans who happen to have something valuable to offer the world. I’ve seen too many brilliant people turn their dreams into these heavy, serious things that suck all the joy out of the process. They’re so focused on getting it “right” that they forget to actually be aware that they are here. Here’s what I really want audiences to walk away with: the purpose of life is to live it, not to perform it. Take the chances. Tell the stories. Step into that spotlight not because you’ve got it all figured out, but because you’re willing to show up as exactly who you are right now—quirks, fears, bad hair days and all. If someone leaves one of my talks feeling a little lighter, a little braver, and a lot more willing to see themselves as worthy of being seen, then I’ve done what I came to do. Because at the end of the day, we’re all just humans trying to make sense of this beautiful, chaotic experience. We might as well have some fun with it and help each other along the way. That’s the legacy I want to leave: permission to be imperfectly, unapologetically, happily yourself. | |
| What has been your biggest learning experience as a speaker or consultant? | |
| My experience has been that the best stuff happens when you stop trying to control every single detail and just let life surprise you. I used to think growth meant learning more, reading more books, taking more courses, gathering more information before I felt “ready.” But here’s the thing: you can know all the strategies in the world, and it won’t mean anything until you actually use them. It’s like all those brilliant social media posts sitting in someone’s Notes app, never seeing the light of day. They’re perfect in there, safe from criticism, but they’re also not changing anyone’s life. They don’t make an impact until you get brave enough to press send. That’s been my biggest lesson too. You can dream it, write it down, plan it to death, but at some point, you just have to do the thing. Even when it’s scary. Especially when it’s scary. I think about all the times I chose action over perfection. The first time I pitched myself as a speaker without having all my materials “just right.” When I launched PR Rockstar Skool before I felt completely ready. Those moments led to opportunities I never could have planned or predicted. Conversations that changed everything. Connections that became lifelong friendships. Stages I never dreamed I’d stand on. That’s what I want people to remember: there’s a whole world waiting on the other side of that scary decision. But you have to take the leap to find it. You have to press send on that email, raise your hand for that opportunity, say yes to that thing that makes you nervous. Stop waiting to feel ready. Start getting comfortable with being surprised by your own resilience, your own capability, your own potential. The unknown isn’t something to fear. It’s where all the magic lives. | |
| What advice would you give to aspiring speakers, coaches, or consultants who want to make an impact? | |
| Something that drives me absolutely crazy is watching incredibly talented people sit on the sidelines waiting for everything to be perfect before they make a move. “I’ll launch my business when my website is flawless.” “I’ll start speaking when I have the perfect speaker reel.” “I’ll share my story when I figure out exactly the right way to tell it.” Meanwhile, opportunities are flying by and other people with half their talent but twice their courage are out there making things happen. Here’s what I wish I could shake into everyone: impact comes from showing up. Period. I think about some of my most memorable moments on stage. Were they the ones where everything went exactly according to plan? Absolutely not. They were the messy ones. The times my microphone didn’t work, or my name was mispronounced, or we had tech issues. Those were the moments that actually connected with people. Unpopular truth: people don’t remember the perfectly polished version of you anyway. They remember how you made them feel. They remember your honesty when something went wrong. They remember the courage it took for you to show up even when you weren’t ready. So, start where you are, with what you have. Every single time you choose presence over perfection, you’re building something real. Trust. Credibility. Momentum. The kind that actually lasts. Stop waiting for permission. Stop waiting for the right moment. Stop waiting to feel ready. Just do the thing. That messy, imperfect, beautifully human thing you’ve been putting off. That’s where real influence lives. That’s how impact gets made. | |
| Finally, how can people get in touch with you? | |
| instagram.com/thekaisociety, [email protected], facebook.com/thekaisociety, https://www.linkedin.com/in/kaicole |