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.

My "Garanimals for Adults" Method of Dress — and Why I Don't Follow It Anymore

I used to have a foolproof method of getting dressed for work, which I affectionately referred to as "Garanimals for Adults."

{Garanimals tags today}

Laugh if you will (well, that is if you're over, say, the age of 35...if you're younger you probably have no idea what I'm talking about) but there's a method to my madness.

Garanimals was a children's clothing line that essentially coordinated tops and bottoms together simply by using different colored animal tags. If you were looking for a cool top to go with those groovy pants, you need only find another blue elephant (or red bear, or yellow monkey) tag and you were good to go.

{Man, I wore a lot of yellow in the '70s}

Granted, Garanimals was in its heyday in the '70s, when it shared the gimmick spotlight with pet rocks and the like. But at its essence, it was about making a decision easier (or eliminating it entirely) by providing you with several alternatives that were sure to match/fit.

For a harried Mom or Dad trying to outfit their kid, this was genius. It ensured that their kid would look acceptable (which was debatable, given the decade). And for at least one kid it made quite an impression.

But back to my "Garanimals for Adults" method of career dressing.

For at least the last decade, a suit served as my Garanimals. A jacket with matching pants or skirt was well-coordinated, professional and (some would say) boring and predictable. Once I had on those pieces I could basically take my "navy blue dolphin" or "charcoal gray panda" and change it up with a different blouse, interesting jewelry and killer heels. (Heck, even the photo of me on this blog follows my adult Garanimals methodology.) It gave me a great sense of comfort knowing I was dressing in a way that allowed me to "match" and fit in.

{What I used to dress like every day}

The funny thing is that I haven't followed this dressing strategy for the last 8 weeks or so. In fact, I've been forced outside my comfort zone of matchy-matchy to try to coordinate with - gasp! - separates and - double gasp! - flats.

Which of course has made me re-think my dressing theory, and create a new one: intentionally NOT matching, instead focusing on things going together and the overall gestalt of my ensemble. Call it my anti Garanimals for Adults, if you will.

Sure, it might take a little longer to get dressed, but it better aligns with this transitional period I'm in — by dressing "outside the lines" I'm forcing myself to be more resourceful and creative, which is exactly the direction I want to go with my life and career.

So why limit yourself to the obvious choices? Go ahead and pair a blue giraffe with an orange tiger. Life is about taking chances, and putting yourself out there for new experiences.

Remember that the unexpected can be a breath of fresh air.  And way more interesting.

Dude, Where's My Spaceship?

This week I swapped cars with my Dad.  
Not because I wanted to, but because my minivan (aka "the spaceship") can seat seven comfortably and we had aunts and uncles in town.

{My 2004 Nissan Quest's doppelgänger. Stop drooling.}

Maybe it's the years gaining on me, but I swear I find myself still looking for my silver spaceship in a parking lot when I logically know that the keys in my hand clearly are linked to Dad's blue Ford Escape.

{My Dad's Ford Escape's twin}

The truth of the matter is, we're all creatures of habit and if left to our own devices, would probably keep our same routines.You simply get used to doing things the same way because they bring stability and a certain level of comfort (or said another way, control) to your life. In fact, isn't that why they say to establish routines with kids? So they know what to anticipate next and feel more comfortable and in control of their surroundings?

This little car-swapping experience really made me think about other routines in life. And how we can unknowingly and unintentionally slowly get sucked into a rut, believing that we have control because we keep doing something the same way, over and over again.

This is where you run into danger, because by always sticking with the tried and true, never deviating from the norm nor coloring outside the lines you cheat yourself, little by little, of having a richer experience, gaining a new perspective and broadening your horizons.

Sometimes that new perspective is everything. Driving my Dad's car gave me a new vantage point — I'm literally sitting up higher, seeing things from a different point of view. Sure, the ride is a little bumpier, and I have to be aware of finessing my speed and direction to get to where I want to go, but isn't that what life's all about?

This experience has inspired to move outside my comfort zone to try new lots of new things. Heck, I may even take a new route home.  Just as soon as I find my car.

{P.S. — Don't think the irony of the cars' model names didn't (forgive the pun) escape me, given my personal transformative journey.}