Beyond the Mic

Intimate Conversations, Not Large Conferences

Taking the conversation, Beyond the Mic

Walk into enough business rooms and you start to notice patterns. Who talks first. Who gets interrupted. Who gets credit. And sometimes, who’s missing altogether.

I’ve spent a lot of my career in industries where the answer to that last question was pretty obvious. From heating and air to oil field supply to agency leadership, I was often one of the few women at the table. It taught me a lot. How to speak up. How to hold my ground. How to stop waiting for an invitation and just pull up a chair.

And I’ve been lucky. The men I’ve worked with over the years have been smart, generous, and genuinely supportive.

But here’s the thing. Every once in a while, you want to be in a room where you don’t have to read the room. No second guessing. No translating. No wondering if that moment felt off or if it’s just you.

These days, in the podcasting world, I’m seeing that same pattern again. Conferences and panels that feel a little too familiar. Plenty of energy, but not always the kind of conversation I’m looking for. And recently, I found myself saying that out loud…

What I thought was a quick vent turned into something else entirely. Because the two women I was talking with were feeling it too. Instead of complaining, we got curious. What if we built the room we actually wanted to be in?

It started simply. A conversation between Jen Edds, Lisa Mitchell, and me about creating something different. Not another conference. Not another lineup of speakers talking at you. Something smaller. More intentional. A space where smart women could actually talk with each other.

And then, on March 26, we did it. We held the first, but not the last Beyond the Mic Mastermind

We invited a small group of women podcasters. Not beginners. Not dabblers. Women with at least 50 episodes behind them. Women who had figured out the tech, found their voice, and survived a few episodes they’d rather not revisit.

The faces behind, beyond the mic

We kept it small on purpose. No stage. No keynote. No sponsors hovering in the background. Just a room full of peers. Instead of handing people an agenda, we asked them to help build one. We gathered topics, voted on what mattered most, and let the conversation go where it needed to go.

And something interesting happened. The room got real, fast. We skipped right past surface level updates and into the good stuff. What’s working. What flopped. What felt harder than it should have. What no one talks about on panels.

That’s when it hit me. This is what I’ve been missing   Not another event where I leave with a tote bag and a stack of business cards. A room where I leave thinking differently.

Here’s just a few of the lessons I learned that day:

Pick one thing and go all in
Even as a marketer, I needed this reminder. One clear call to action. One place to focus. When everything matters, nothing stands out.

Borrow boldly and share freely
Some of the best ideas weren’t brand new. They were tested, tweaked, and passed along. Less guarding, more sharing. Everyone moves faster.

Real conversations beat polished presentations
We started by talking about what we got wrong. That one decision set the tone. No posturing. No pretending. Just honest lessons and a lot of “oh good, it’s not just me.”

Create the room you wish existed
We didn’t wait for an invite. We built our own table. Kept it local, kept it small, and trusted that the right people would show up.

Let the agenda breathe
Instead of locking into a rigid schedule, we let the group shape the conversation. It felt like a conversation, not a performance.

Community doesn’t end when the event does
The real value isn’t the four hours in the room. It’s what happens after. Staying connected. Sharing resources. Continuing the conversation.

If there’s one thing I’d tell you, it’s this. Stop waiting for someone else to create the space you need.  Look around. Who do you want to spend time with? Who challenges you in a way that makes you better, not smaller? Who feels safe enough that you can admit you don’t have it all figured out?

Make a list. Invite five people to coffee. Or ten to your living room. Keep it small. Keep it honest. You don’t need a ballroom. You need the right table.

Interested in hosting your own Beyond the Mic event?  Drop me a note.  I would love to chat with you.