Let’s talk this out.
Owning a business is effing hard. Like, so hard. I watch my sweet sweet ladyboss friends out there, working their little cute butts off, and they are kicking some serious booty. And me too, but it’s hard to be objective about your own life. Frankly, I’m not sure if I’m kicking booty or not, and I’m definitely not sure where my butt stands on the cute scale at the moment (5 months postpartum makes you seriously hesitant about looking at your backside).
Sometimes it’s easy to be honest, usually when things are going great and you feel like a badass and your bank account is flush and the work keeps coming and time goes a little slower. And then there are the days when time goes so fast that you can literally hear it whiz by your ear like a bee. Your bank account looks about like the number on the scale, which is too high on the scale but too low in the account. Sheez. It’s hard to catch a break sometimes.
Other times it’s hard to be real. When asked, “How’s your business going?”, you actually have the instinct to throw a punch. What nerve?! But really, you have to evaluate whether that person really wants to know or not, and then decide whether you give an authentic answer or not, and then finally be able to articulate your answer either way. Seriously, sometimes just simple conversation seems like you’re riding into battle with your hands tied behind your back.
I love it when my friends are honest. This is a real emotional roller coaster, owning a business. It feels elating all the while feeling like a burden. And we’ve all been on the fence, leaning strongly to one side (the “get a real job” side), when someone suddenly jumps up and grabs your pinky finger and somehow pulls you back the other way. I always seem to land face first, nose in the dirt, and then quickly pop up, hoping that nobody saw my embarrassing tumble.
You guys, I’m leanin’ hard. Someone grab my pinky finger. I’ll gladly land face first today, and then maybe I’ll linger there for a bit, because the sweet smell of fresh dirt is better than the stale smell of a stuffy office job.
I know this. I know I’ll land on the right side. I know that I’ll rise again, and sprint towards the other side of the pasture where all the cool kids are. Maybe it’s the risk that gets me… the leaning so far that you feel like you might fall but know you won’t. Like roller coasters; how far sideways can we go before you flip over?
My son’s greatest challenge right now is learning how to sit up straight without falling backwards. He always falls, and on a big comfy cushy blanket, and then he laughs. One day soon, he won’t fall, and instead stay up straight and the risk of falling will be mitigated.
But how do we mitigate our risk of falling?
Answer: I don’t think we can. Risk is part of the game. It’s the David and Goliath of the real world. Risk is big, but bravery is mighty. You can do a lot with a little strategy, a little faith and a whole lot of bravery.
Pep talk, over.
Meanwhile, I’m going to sit on the bed with Joey tonight and practice sitting up straight. And when he falls backwards, I will too. Because it’s soft and cushy and the risk has been totally mitigated.