Silent Zones, Loud Lessons

What public space etiquette teaches about personal branding

Twice a week, I cross the Öresund bridge—from Sweden to Denmark and back again. It’s not just a commute. It’s a ritual. A reset. A boundary. I always sit in the silent zone of the train. Not because I’m uptight—but because I need quiet. Space to rewire my brain, rest my ears, or sneak in some writing between worlds.

And yet, more often than I’d like, someone forgets where they are.

A teenager turns into a one-woman podcast, preaching life advice to her mum. A couple pretends not to understand the three-language + visual sign and chats away in their native tongue. A family of four unpacks their entire travel itinerary, as if they're in their living room.

And every time, I take a breath. Then I say something.

Not to shame. Not to control. But to remind.

This is a silent zone. And silent doesn’t mean “only if you feel like it.” It’s a shared agreement. A boundary. A collective pause.

Most people suffer in silence. I don’t.

This isn’t about being stiff. It’s about respect.

Because someone in that train car just had five back-to-back meetings. Someone didn’t sleep well the night before. Someone needs a moment to exist without more noise.

That someone is often me. And I’m not afraid to say it anymore.

I’ve learned to take leadership in small, awkward moments. Not the flashy kind. The real kind.

Like reminding someone that others exist. That space has a purpose.That presence is a practice.

And the thing is—when I speak up, someone always thanks me afterward. Because I said what they were thinking. Because I made the space safer. Because I wasn’t scared to stand for stillness.

And yes—this is about personal branding.

And conscious leadership.

Because personal branding isn’t just about logos or taglines. It’s about how you show up when no one’s clapping. It’s

the energy you bring into shared spaces—online and offline. It’s your impact, your awareness, your ability to sense the room.

And that’s also what conscious leadership is. Not about taking over. But about tuning in. Not about having the final word. But about asking: What does this space need right now?

Whether you’re on a train, on a stage, in a Slack channel, or scrolling through a feed—your presence is always saying something.

And sometimes, the most powerful brand move or leadership act is knowing when not to speak. To leave space. To hold silence. To let others exhale. Because not everyone wants to know your latest wellness hack, your breakup breakdown, or your opinion on someone’s parenting style. And that’s OK.

Let's not confuse expression with entitlement

I’ll always root for people being themselves. But being yourself doesn’t mean being oblivious.

If you’re pudding, don’t throw yourself into a crowd full of dairy-intolerant people and demand to be loved. Be pudding. Own it. Top yourself with cinnamon if you want. But read the room. That’s emotional intelligence.

What I’ve Learned from Crossing Cultures, Bridges, and Timelines:

• Respect is where resonance begins.

• Boundaries are sacred.

• You can be kind and direct.

• You don’t need to be louder to be heard—you just need to be real.

  
  

Whether you’re on a train or building a brand, take up space in a way that leaves others better. Not silenced. Not flattened .But invited to breathe.

Even in the silent zone.