What Started it All

Six years ago I received a telephone call that changed my life forever…but first…

A few years back, I wrote a handful of articles for an online business directory called Our Seniors. Writers won’t be surprised to know the compensation was meager at best. But I was on cloud nine because those articles represented a decades-old dream of becoming a published author.

How I landed that first writing gig is strange indeed (although in hindsight, I suppose not). It represents an honest-to-goodness, serendipitous chain of events that only happens in folkloric tales featuring benevolent fairy godmothers.

There I was, happy as a clam, sitting in my home office, working on procuring construction projects for a lead referral company when my boss called to offer me a “fantastic” opportunity. I was to be switched from Editorial to Sales, and wasn’t I “overcome with joy!”

Hmmm. Oh, goody, thought I – laden with sarcasm, heavy with dread. Noooo, I wasn’t overcome with jooooy  because Sales and I have a precarious relationship.

• Do I have salesmanship qualities? Yes.
• Am I good at it? Yes.
• Do I like it? No!

Salesmanship comes naturally to me, and it’s a necessary trait for anyone employed in procurement – particularly, privately funded construction project information procurement. It’s a mouthful – I know! And it’s a field known for hoarding its secrets.

I’ve also worked in various Sales positions requiring all sorts of quotas, but those careers never suited me, and I didn’t suit them.

Editorial required salesmanship as well and instilled a monthly monetary bonus based on production. So, a “quota” had to be maintained, especially if you had your eye on the bonus prize, which I did, like any other Red-Blooded American Woman working in an upwardly-mobile career.

But Editorial was…different. I didn’t have to “close the deal” per se. I had to find a way to extract information and exhaust all measures to do so, but in the end, if a door was closed, that was fine, I moved on to the next one.

The freedom was liberating.

Editorial Was a Good Fit

I loved the research, digging for information, and my clients. Scoring new contacts and projects gave me a high. Weird, but true. Furthermore, cultivating relationships within my assigned territory was equally rewarding.

An additional benefit was knowing my work granted my customers opportunities. These gateways led them to form new relationships with architects, general contractors, and national companies. I envisioned their companies prospering, their employees prospering, and everyone’s families prospering, all because I got a hold of a name or telephone number. All because I brokered a connection.

I loved helping others and I still do, but back to the story…

My boss gift-wrapped this shiny new opportunity with financial windfalls. He waxed poetic about pay raises and high-yield bonuses. Hmm?

I asked him if I could think about it. He said yes. I had until the next day. Okaaaaaaaay…

But when I reviewed the job description again, I had to be honest with myself. The position wasn’t a good fit. I would be unhappy in the long run and for a very long time. A calamitous move in the Chess Game of Life.

Why would I leave a job I thoroughly enjoyed – and was successful at, per Boss Man’s many, written confirmations – to assume a role I’d abhor? At the time, it seemed ludicrous, and personally still does.

As such, I thanked him for the opportunity but, respectfully, declined. All was sunshine and rainbows once again…for a few hours.

There I was, in 95-degree heat, at my son’s baseball game, when I received the telephone call that changed my life forever.

“The company has restructured…Editorial position phased out…I have to let you go.”

I Got Fired

In less than a few hours the entire Editorial Department restructured?

I needled him:

• Why didn’t you tell me this earlier?
• This information would have (obviously) influenced my decision.
• Why was I given mere hours to decide?
• Why, Why, Why, Why, Why, Why, Why, Why, Why?

The answer was short and sweet, cutthroat and brutal. “I’m sorry about that, but I really don’t have to answer those questions.”

That was it. With two cold shakes of a lamb’s tail, I was unceremoniously put out to pasture; me, and my ten years of dedicated service. There’s more to the story and my subsequent ordeal, but it’s full of melodrama, and who needs that?

The point is, today I thank the man for that telephone call.

Well, I thank God, not him. I could still think of a few choice words for him. Why? Because I’m a Red-Blooded American Woman, that’s why! But, rest assured, I’m working through my foibles.

All joking aside, looking back, although I loved that job, I knew its moment had come and gone. I’d been whining to my husband for years that I needed to find something new, that I had to jump onto the next evolutionary stepping stone, THAT I WANTED TO WRITE FOR GOODNESS SAKE! But I was too chicken-shit to do anything about it.

God must have wanted the same thing for me.

Either that, or He was sick and tired of the whining and lamenting and, like any good parent, He tough-loved me right out of that dead-end job with one swift push off the Cliff of Faith.

“Too frightened to quit, are you?” Here’s your sign…

PUSH!

Time to Step Out on My Own

Little did my old boss know, there’d be restructuring, all right!

Without the safety net of an income to “fall back on” (a misnomer of the grossest kind because – by their very nature – safety nets provide little motivation and keep you caught in a web of your own making), I restructured my life.

There’s more to this part of the story, but I won’t bore you with details…for now. I make no future promises because I do so love details.

Suffice it to say, with my husband’s support, my children pretty much raised (youngest 16), and nothing to lose, I took steps at reinvention:

• Launched a transcription side hustle for a ‘lil bread & butter.
• Learned all about the blogging industry: coding, graphic design, marketing, SEO, etc.
• Honed my writing, rusty from lack of use.
• Scored my first writing gig with Our Seniors.
• Scored a freelance gig in the local paper a year later
• First book is on the way.

I’m still not making a lot of money, but things are getting better!

I was hilariously green back then, sopping wet behind the ears when I wrote those first few articles for Our Seniors. But I knew I was meant to write, and I started to build confidence, honing my craft along the way.

It turns out, the benevolent fairy godmother was myself! And the serendipitous chain of events are the opportunities that arise and the doors that open when you start saying Yes! to life, instead of No!

It’s still hard work, following your dream, and money holds no guarantee, hence the side hustles. However, I was fine with all of that because I had to start somewhere.

There are many treasures to behold when you French Kiss life, and many blessings to be thankful for. Happiness is a choice, after all, and it sure ain’t overrated.

Much love to ya! And if so moved, don’t forget to leave a comment below!