I’m the only person in the world who can do the work that I do.
I don’t say that to be arrogant—in fact, there’s nothing arrogant about it. I’m just the only person in the world who can do the work that I do.
Because the job demands every single one of my skills and abilities. It’s built around me.
Just like Sherri is the only person in the world who can do the work that she does. And Amy is the only person in the world who can do the work that she does.
If ever we need to replace one of us, we’d figure it out. We’d survive. But it wouldn’t be the same job. It couldn’t be. Because no one has those exact skills, interests, and abilities.
So much of my success in business has been in identifying exactly what I’m really, really good at—the stuff that only I can do—and then focusing only on those things. And hiring people who have the skills, interests, and abilities to do stuff that the business really needs. And figuring out where and how they want to grow their positions. So that they get to a point where no one else in the world could do their job.
The more I focus only on what I can do better than anyone in the world, the more my business grows organically.
It’s taken me a long time to really internalize that. For so long, I blamed and shamed myself. I told myself that I had to be good at everything. That I had to be a chameleon—fitting everyone else’s definition of who I should be.
I tried to mold myself to fit plenty of jobs in my life. And lucky for me (or unlucky, depending on how you look at it), I’m really good at knowing exactly what people want. So I was good at becoming what they needed me to be.
At best, I was a second-rate version of them. And never an authentic version of me.
I wanted to follow everyone else’s launch formulas and success blueprints. I tried those “tried-and-true” formulas only to be exhausted, burnt out, and quite frankly not successful.
I mean, I’d never follow someone else’s rules for my relationship. Believe me, they never would have worked. So why did I feel so compelled to follow someone else’s business model?
We have all this conditioning around business. That we have to “good at business.” That there are some people out there who are born business leaders. And some who aren’t. And the rest of us shame and blame ourselves.
But that doesn’t make any sense. Can we really be “good at relationships” or not good? I know so many people who’ve had one really successful relationship and then one really challenged one right after.
Because it’s not about being “good at relationships,” it’s about being in a container that allows you to become more of yourself.
If you can build a business that forces you to grow deeper into yourself—that becomes your greatest healing modality—then I’d say you’re pretty set for life. You have something really special.
It’s only been in recent years that I’ve fully embraced and accepted all of who I am. And realized so much of who I’m not. Instead of trying to force myself to be someone else in my business, I just started focusing on what I love. What I do so well. What feels effortless to me.
And then I found people who absolutely fell in love with the stuff that I just can’t do. And it’s what they do best in the world. And I spend my days talking to them, watching them, checking in, nurturing, and cultivating. So that I can make sure that they get to grow their business themselves.
I often tell my team that the meeting place of each of our subjectivities, our clients subjectivities, and our business’ subjectivity is where our successful business lies.
I need to make sure I’m really happy, you’re really happy, and the business is really happy. And I’m constantly monitoring all of those things. I’m seeing if there’s anything I dislike or am just tolerating. Or if they dislike. And I do my best to find a way to make it easier and more fun—or to eliminate or re-delegate it all together. And I’m making sure that we’re getting feedback from clients and that we know what’s working for them and what isn’t. And I’m checking the bottom line and seeing what the business needs to nourishment and growth.
Sometimes that means compromise. Sometimes that means I—or the team—has to do some work we don’t love while we’re feeding the business’ subjectivity. And sometimes that means that we have to do something until we can hire someone new to take it over.
But it’s that point of being really clear on who we are and what we need that makes us so successful.
Because, if we absolutely love our work, can do it faster and better than anyone else, and never get drained—we’re going to freaking kick ass. And why wouldn’t we want that?
There’s so much messaging out there about “extracting” as much profit as possible and as much “productivity” from yourself and your team. But, in our work, “Extraction” is the shadow form of Value—it’s actually about devaluing a person’s subjectivity—de-humanizing them—to try to have your own worth met. It’s the root of everything from exploitation of land to sexual assault.
And that’s not a business I could ever personally condone.
The meeting places of all of our subjectivities—prized equally—that’s the kind of ship I like to run.
Because then I can say without question that I am the only person in the world who could do the work that I do. And so is every member of my team. And I love my job more than anything.
Because it’s built around me. It’s built telling me that my skills, interests, and abilities are perfect. That I don’t need to change at all. I just need to become more of myself.
What would it feel like to do work that is just being who you naturally are?
And what’s stopping you from doing that?