As a reward for the massive year we had in 2016, I gifted myself Leonie Dawson’s workbooks.
I’ve been a Leonie fan for a number of years, since first reading one of her blogs that got shared my way and immediately resonated within my heart. It was the first time I’d seen a raw and open blog post in a professional setting. And by someone making squllions more moolah than I could even imagine at that point.
I connected again with Leonie in 2014, when I was lost (emotionally and mentally… physically I was dog-sitting a precious Jack Russell) in a small Scottish town. I spent two weeks trying my best to nurture my mental health, but ultimately ended up taking the pup for walks up gorgeous mountains, soaking in baths and crying. I stumbled upon a Leonie post full of free goodies, and reading her ebook I was struck by the $100,000 idea. All she needed to do was sell everything for $100 to 1000 women. It was a huge goal, but not impossible.
I screenshotted that page of the ebook and I still often refer back to it, never bringing myself to delete it in file tidy-ups on my computer.
So, two years later, I got one of Leonie’s many sales emails and thought,
“You know what? I deserve this. I have felt nothing but guilt for spending money for a year. I’m buying ALL OF THOSE BOOKS AND NO ONE CAN STOP ME!”
<insert a couple of weeks of angst followed by actual tears of happiness when my package arrived>
The books have been immensely helpful (and no, I’m not selling them, Leonie has recently stopped her affiliate sales much to my disappointment!) for me in realising what I want out of 2017 and working out pathways to get there. I’ve already felt the blows of overwhelm in the few shorts days we’ve been hitting the pavement, but I’ve also felt the rise of a tiny happy dance when mono-focusing has given me the gift of completing my by-11-am goals, by 10am.
The workbooks have been a particularly pertinent gift as they came at an especially hard time at Pickford HQ.
I like to believe that if I’m striving to be better in a certain area, the universe will provide me opportunities to do so.
Maybe this latest blow is just another opportunity to rise.
So I’m trying. I’m fighting the fear with love. Anxiety-laced client emails facing off with stellar testimonials on our website. That oh-my-effing-god-could-I-scream-so-loud-right-now feeling up against crazy-big goals and dreams and affirmations and words of the year pasted front and centre on the walls, and value-packed videos on our Youtube channel, and redesigns, and new additions to the business, and keyword research, and writing up an action plan for our Google Analytics.
But I’m still living in fear when I want to be living in love.
What am I so afraid of?
I’m involved in a crowdfunding campaign that I haven’t been spruiking as hard as I should have been… because I’m afraid of what it could mean if we reached or even blew past our goal?
This is my dream life coming to kick me in the ass and get me moving, just like Melissa McCarthy in Bridesmaids.
I adore Melissa McCarthy. So why am I so afraid to welcome her into my home?
Because the hustle is easier. It’s easier to spend hours stalking websites of women I love and connecting on LinkedIn and reaching out to them via email. The hard part is when they reply, guns blazing, sold on what I’ve told them in my email.
Why? Why do they believe in me?
Why are they willing to not only want to work with me but also put their money where their mouth is?
We aren’t cheap. We’re a premium service and we know our shit. So we’re not just talking a little bit of mouth-money.
I keep justifying it, but deep down I know I’m an imposter; I’m not good enough.
I’m not enough.
But then again, somebody bought from me. They bought my expertise. My time. My knowledge. Maybe even just… me. There are, after all, a crap-tonne of people who can work a camera. Maybe it’s the way I made them feel that really gave me the edge over the competition.
And then, despite the testimonials, phone calls, emails and social media comments telling us otherwise… they don’t want Pickford anymore.
We’re not enough.
I’m not enough.
How do you rise strong once you’ve dared greatly and fallen hard?
I’m grappling with it, not least through reading Brene Brown books, but also in attempting to dull the negative self talk every time it makes an utterance.
“You’re not good enough,” Self Talk says.
“I’m going to pump out even MORE content!” I respond.
“You’re faking it and everyone is going to realise.”
“I’m going to keep investing in myself, learning and bettering myself every day!”
“So-and-so is better than you, without even trying.”
“I’m going to write a book! And start a web series! And produce a TV show! And direct a short film!”
“You’ll never become the person you want to be.”
I’m standing at the bottom of a well, Self Talk, and not only have taken away and crushed up my ladder, you’ve thrown sand and bricks to blind and hold me down. And now you’re filling it up with water so I’ll drown.
That’s really quite bad luck though, Self Talk. Because through a rain of fire and brimstone, I taught myself to swim.
PS – for more sharing the personal bits of business, you can download our ebook here: