I believe no one else on the planet can do exactly what you do, exactly the way you do it.

But it wasn’t always that way. I almost lost myself. 

Confession: I did not do well in high school. I was “creative minded” but not super motivated. According to my guidance counselor (and my 1.8 gpa), that combination meant I had very little choices. I was actually told “Being a writer is not a realistic career for you.”  So I waited tables while I earned my dental assistant certification and contentedly planted myself there for the next 14 years believing it was all I had to offer. 

Now, there’s nothing wrong with being a dental assistant. It’s a fine job, but eventually I started getting WAY restless. Turns out I was losing the joy of saliva sucking, and helping my bosses build generational wealth. I began to realize deep down that I had chosen a quick, safe option that didn’t challenge me or require any risk. I’d hidden my gifts away because I was made to believe they weren’t of any real value to the world. My creativity was being squashed. My strategic mind? Silenced. My entrepreneurial spirit? Starved to death. Not to be dramatic, but my body, brain, and soul started to shrivel up with dread and despair. Eventually, I hated every second of my job, not because it was bad or beneath me,  but because it wasn’t what I was meant to do.

Something had to change.

It became clear I could no longer ignore the idea of writing or the people in my life who kept encouraging me to.

Okay, I’ll admit their nudges were based solely off clever Facebook posts I’d written about random observations and mom life, but still. I couldn’t unhear their comments like: 

“This is so funny, you should be a writer!” or 
“If you wrote a book I would read it,” or
 “This just made me cry. Why aren’t you a writer?” 

But we all know clever Facebook posts don’t pay the bills. Or do they…?

I had a friend who was a freelance copywriter, but I didn’t really even know what that meant – just that people paid her to write stuff. I started peppering her with questions about her work (which already felt really vulnerable and scary), but then shit got real when she asked if I wanted to go to a copywriting workshop with her. We could become “StoryBrand Certified” by author Donald Miller and his team, learn their techniques and get hooked up with real clients. I closed my eyes and jumped.

I loved the program. Even though no one had ever paid me a single cent to write anything, the concept of helping businesses with the StoryBrand framework felt natural. The concepts weren’t slimy or salesy. It actually felt similar to what I was already doing - simply noticing things and communicating them in a way that people could relate. 

The difference was that the training taught me how to apply that skill to the business and marketing world. After the workshop, I consumed every book about copywriting and marketing I could find. I reached out to other veteran professionals and asked about their real world experience. I stretched and risked, stumbled and succeeded. Without a fancy marketing or communications degree, I began building a reputation as one of the most promising copywriters in the StoryBrand Community. After about a year of writing on the side, I walked into the dental office, quit my job, and never looked back. A year later, I had built a business that exceeded my previous annual salary within the first quarter. My calendar was booked solid as I sharpened and honed my skill. 

Did I experience severe imposter syndrome? You bet your ass I did. 

Did I show up anyway? You already know the answer.

No one else on the planet can do exactly what I can do, exactly the way I do it. And the words will never be the thing that holds me back again.