A Little About Me

If I've learned anything in 2014, it's that you have to be true to yourself in order to be truly happy.  

This doesn't always work, especially in professional situations where there are certain political or social expectations. Fortunately for me I'm a bit of a chameleon, being able to blend in to nearly every scenario, maintaining a certain level of tact, decorum and diplomacy not to rock anyone's boat and make everyone in my presence feel warm and comfortable.  Great, right?

Yeah, I guess.  And having that skill set is important. (In fact, I've met quite a few folks that could benefit from it). But sometimes I want to just be a little more, well, me.

Don't get me wrong, its not like I'm some psycho (really, I promise!).  But there's more to me than my LinkedIn-approved profile.  And it's those parts that I really make me who I am and truth be told, more interesting as a person.

My challenge has been how to incorporate more of myself so I don't have two different personas.  What's holding me back?  One word: FEAR.

Fear of being overlooked. Ridiculed. Forgotten. Viewed as irrelevant.

Funny, because that's exactly what I fear right now, before making any changes.

I'm currently in the last 6 months of a 3-year contract.  It's provided a wonderfully stable income stream, and the autonomy and freedom I so desired after 10 years of being a CEO with an ever-changing board of directors.  When it began, I was excited, anxious, and eager to learn and excel.  And I did. But then I got bored.  And rather than seek out something more challenging, I fell into the comfort zone of it, the ease of it. And along the way started to have those feelings of being viewed solely in that role. And people making inaccurate assumptions about me because of it (oh, she really doesn't want go to work full time, she has kids and doesn't want to travel) even though those closest to me in my personal and professional life knew better. In fact, they knew me so well that they asked things like what was I really going to do? And when was I going find a real job?  They told me I was more than this role, and that I was a leader, and had so much more to offer.  

Which of course pissed me off.  Because I secretly knew they were right.  Because they knew me. All of me.

Along the way these conversations continued, which brings us to today, the last day of 2014. With an impending new year I thought I should start to try to true up and merge the professional and personal Amys.  If you're reading this, you probably already know:

• I excel at being able to quickly assess what's working and what's not, come up with recommendations and an action plan to improve, strengthen, and build, then deliver results.
• I also quite frequently find myself in "the middle," serving as a liaison between disparate groups and factions, leading the way to consensus.
• I'm motivated by challenge and find great satisfaction in getting tangible results and making things better.
• Some adjectives that describe me are: respected, competitive, results-oriented, ambitious, focused, confident.

Sounds very LinkedIn-y, right?  But here's a list of 25 things you may not know about me:

1. I was super shy as a kid (this shocks people that meet me today)
2. My favorite color used to be pink (it's now blue)
3. I loved (and still do) writing, drawing, creating and building (I was DIY before it was a thing)
4. I played volleyball (still do), basketball, ran hurdles and even was a song leader (kinda like a dancing cheerleader — seemed like fun so on a whim I tried out my senior year and made it)
5. I rocked the best '80s hair EVAH
6. I was a Visual Arts major in Film/Video, with a minor in communications 
7. I interned at a local cable TV station in college and loved being the technical director (the one who literally calls the shots) 
8. I wanted to be a filmmaker (sounded cool) but instead landed in agency-land (also pretty cool)
9. I've worked in advertising, marketing, communications, branding and travel/tourism, and in every instance my parents never quite knew what I did for a living (still don't)
10. I'm very handy and absolutely love home renovation
11. Guy Fieri once told me that I smelled good
12. I'm fueled by Peet’s medium nonfat lattes and single handily keep at least two local stores in business
13. I have no real phobias but clowns freak me out — they're evil
14. I dislike most reality TV except my guilty pleasure, The Millionaire Matchmaker
15. The concept of transformation is very meaningful and fulfilling to me, and I feel happiest when I’m an active participant in some form of one
16. I love games, especially Trivial Pursuit and Cards Against Humanity
17. I find personality tests fascinating because I’m on a never-ending quest of self-discovery
18. When I’m really close with someone I develop an uncanny, almost psychic connection to them
19. I think being clever trumps beauty
20. I use A LOT of Post-It notes
21. I value intuition very highly
22. I stick my tongue out when I’m really concentrating
23. I always wear sunscreen and my seat belt
24. I spontaneously cry every time someone with perfect pitch hits a high note
25. I think the world would be a much more interesting place if we all spoke in Aaron Sorkin style dialogue

Stay tuned as I get creative with my bio, and hopefully my next gig. Here's to a fearless 2015 — Happy New Year, everyone!

What Bears and Latkes Taught Me About Fear

Hello, friends. Long time no chat. I can't believe it's been over a month since my last post. Of course, lots has been happening to fill my time — the major surgery of a friend (boo!), being hired for my first few gigs as a free agent (yay!) and oh yeah, the Holidays (the jury's still out but so far, so good).

Still, I've been feeling kinda lousy about not being able to write and post, especially because in my last post I declared (rather emphatically, as I recall) that I was, and always have been, a WRITER. Sigh.

In fact this morning I was sitting with my youngest daughter, Sofia, at my favorite coffee shop explaining to her that I've been feeling bummed out because I hadn't written in so long. I asked her what Mommy should write about. Without skipping a beat, she said: "Maybe you should say your daughter is doing a play."

That's all I needed to hear. Immediately I made what my second-grader's class calls a "connection" — that spark of an "a-ha" moment where you connect two seemingly disparate thoughts.

I smiled at Sofia and thanked her for providing Mommy with the sorely needed inspiration for her next blog post. So here goes...

My 7-year-old daughter is doing a play. While normally this wouldn't be front-page news, the fact that Sofia has agreed to do the play and, even more importantly, is excited to be doing the play, is. Let me explain.

This summer, when Sofia found out who her teacher was going to be, she got very anxious.  Apparently her new teacher had a reputation for doing an enormous amount of plays ("Like, five, Mommy!").

I sat Sofia down to talk about what was bothering her and to ease her fears, citing her independent and fearless nature and the joy she finds in singing Justin Bieber songs to anyone, anywhere, at any time. We also talked about how useful her naturally projecting voice would be on stage, since she probably wouldn't even need to use a microphone.

Though she nodded her head in agreement, she added: "But I'm a little bit scared, Mommy."

And there it was. Fear. Of the unknown. Of performing in front of people you don't know. Or people you do know. Fear of failing. Or fear of — gulp! — actually doing well.

But a funny thing happened.  Sofia started the school year with preconceived notions about her teacher and those plays, but over the course of a few months her fear has been replaced with excitement. Which is not surprising, since fear and excitement are often intertwined.

Also not surprising are the parallels I found to my own situation. When I first became a free agent, I was secretly giddy...and terrified. This was completely uncharted and scary territory. Like Sofia, I had to put myself out there, on stage, for all to see (and judge). I might fail to perform. Or I might do really well.

Preferring the latter, I chose to prepare and practice. I poured myself into research. I became an even bigger networker, infusing caffeinated beverages and lunches into my meetings with friends, colleagues and peers. I sought counsel from my trusted circle. I rehearsed, mentally and physically, to make this shift become more natural and second nature.

All this effort might seem futile to some, but for me there were (and continue to be) real rewards: I've maintained and expanded relationships within my professional and personal networks, discovered new trends and sources of information to stay fresh and current, and learned that most people already believed in me and my abilities — I just needed to believe it and get out of my own way. Hmm, nice.

In short, my confidence is back up where it belongs. Which is why I believe I've been able to land a few new gigs, actually found the courage to decline one opportunity that didn't jive with my skills, level of experience and abilities, and am currently evaluating two potential, long-term options. And, like Sofia, I hope to have rave reviews that will garner encores.

The first of Sofia's class plays is entitled "The Holiday Show," a lovely work celebrating a myriad of Winter holidays and traditions, with an exclusive performance the evening of December 15th. Sofia will be starring as "Bear," a lovable creature that finds herself being drawn out of her hibernating slumber by the call of the latkes ('"Bear," they're saying, "we're waiting...Bear, come get us while we're still really hot."'). And (spoiler alert!) Bear ends up overdoing it with the latkes ("I should have stopped at sixty-three!"), singing a seven-stanza song about it.

I know all this because Sofia's been rehearsing, every day.  Which of course makes me immensely proud. And inspired: if my little bear can continue to find and express herself, then so can I.

I'll Admit It: Last Friday Kinda Sucked... Until It Didn't

 
Most folks I meet consider me to be a happy, positive person. "Enthusiastic" is a frequent descriptor. But even the smiley-est of us can have an off day. And for me, that day was last Friday.

I was overwhelmed and headed for a meltdown. I despised feeling low, and actually chided myself for being negative and questioning my path. Sure, I extolled the power of positive thinking and that "happy" is a choice you make when you wake up. But sometimes you have a day that literally brings you to tears — of frustration, anger, impatience...whatever.

However, through my sobs and rants of "I feel so lost" I realized something: it was okay not to be perfect and feel 100% certain of where I was going 100% of the time. 

Of course, my impatient, future-focused, wants-to-lead-the-charge-and-be-in-control self had a hard time swallowing that pill.  Was I admitting weakness? Giving in to some unseen foe? Me no likey.

Still, in this creative journey I knew there would be times when I'd question what the hell I was doing (or not doing) and why I didn't have all the answers right now.  But I needed to accept it. Deal with it. Embrace it.  Sally Hogshead calls this stage sitting on "The Throne of Agony" and with good reason — it's not very fun.

But without an occasional valley, I could never appreciate nor recognize a peak. Which, miraculously, I also did last Friday.

Turns out that someone whom I admire for her smarts and creativity dug my blog.  So much so, that she even told her friends about it. (Yay, me!)

I may not have all the answers in this journey but I'm determined to have fun along the way — even if that means getting "lost" once and awhile.

An Unexpected Sting

It was the first day of our family's July 4th vacation and we were walking on the beach — what could be better? Waves crashing, sand between my toes…bee stinger in my foot.

Suddenly I felt a sharp, stinging pain. And it lingered. Ouch.

When I stopped to examine my instep, amidst the sand was a small, but painful, stinger stuck in the most vunerable part of my foot. I wiped away the residual sand and then plucked the offending stinger out.

I was expecting the pain to immediately subside (I had removed the threat) but to my dismay the pain continued and intensified, making it hard to continue walking.

Of course at this point I was at the farthest point from my dwelling. Great. I could stop and wallow in my pain, or keep walking, suffering with every step.

As I winced in pain it occurred to me that there was another option.

I hobbled down to the water and allowed the frigid surf to wash over my wound. This accomplished two things: 1) the chill of the water temporarily numbed the pain and 2) the salt in the water drew out the toxin.

This meant I could walk again without pain. Amazing.

Was I wounded? Sure. But was I out? No way.

Funny the way life works. This incident happened following an extremely stressful time at work and I couldn’t help but find the parallels of the situation.

Days before I had received an unexpected sting from my boss, something “serious” but unfair and political, potentially damaging to my reputation. Not a fun place to find yourself.

At first, I was stunned. Hurt. Could barely move. But I had to. I dealt with the pain, trying to suck it up.

This wasn’t really working as a long-term solution. I needed some help.

Lucky for me, I have a strong network of trusted family and friends. And talking about the situation helped lessen its power over me. It also helped me think through next steps and how I could move away from other potential “stingers.”

You may be minding your own business at work or in life, strolling along when a sudden threat catches you off guard. At first the pain is so intense you don’t know what to do. You struggle to keep moving, but the hurt paralyzes you.

But by allowing yourself to move through the pain to use your resources (sometimes the ones literally right in front of you, whether that be a salty ocean or a network of trusted people to talk you through the “sting”) you can not only bounce back but come out stronger.

Well that, and you’ll have a great story to tell around the bonfire.