I thought I was a really shitty business owner. I thought I was really shitty with money.
I could never trust myself to make decisions. I’d suddenly get an impulse to buy all new clothes on a whim. Or I’d feel really called to buy an expensive livecast technology. Or seek out expensive artists for gifts for our Mastermind level.
And people out there—people good with money—successful friends and colleagues and coaches—would tell me that I could easily charge higher rates. Or I could easily cut costs here or here. Or I would have to invest less in my lifestyle and more in my business in I ever wanted to be successful.
Wanting to work less hours a day wouldn’t cut it. And refusing to put all of my money into the business wouldn’t cut it. And, basically, I wasn’t that serious about it. I was a bad business owner.
When you live most of your life starting from the baseline that you’re wrong, that you don’t know what you’re doing, that you can’t trust yourself, you assume that everyone else is right.
That you have to look outside of yourself. That you have to follow others’ formulas.
And, boy, did I think that I was wrong.
I remember once Garrett suggested we go to a restaurant for dinner—one someone had bought us a gift certificate to. It was an acclaimed restaurant. And we had been once before.
So I went on to look at the menu. And I started crying. Out of nowhere. I told myself it was totally ridiculous. What’s the big deal? Why am I so upset about going to this restaurant? And those layers of shame brought on more tears. I’m always high-maintenance. I’m always snobby.
Why can’t I just be easy and go to a fucking restaurant?
Fortunately, I had the support of a good friend, who I texted to figure out what the hell was going on. And I expected for her to smack me upside the head because—I’m wrong. But she didn’t.
She responded, “The problem is we don’t have a good word in English for people who choose themselves. And you’re shaming yourself because you know this isn’t right for you right now, but you aren’t trusting yourself.”
I almost dropped the phone. What if I’m not wrong? What would be possible if I’m not wrong?
I knew in my heart this restaurant wasn’t right for us. It wasn’t very gluten-free friendly. And it just wasn’t what I wanted that night.
And I was grieving layers and layers of nights when I wasn’t the “easy one” or the “chill one” because I so badly just wanted to go with the flow and not speak up. But, in this moment, my body wouldn’t let me.
IT WAS FUCKING TIRED OF BEING TOLD IT WAS WRONG. OF NEVER BEING LISTENED TO. NEVER BEING TRUSTED.
What if I wasn’t wrong? What if I’ve never been wrong? What would be possible if I’ve never been wrong?
The question is almost overwhelming.
What if discovering new artists and paying them fair, equitable amounts—higher than most businesses—is part of my mission with my work? And what if keeping it accessible to people is critical to what I’m building? And what if I need spaciousness in my time and things like essential oils to truly bring this work forward?
What if I’ve never been wrong?
What if my body is always telling me what it needs? What if my desires to buy new clothes are perfect? And I’m noticing that I’m outgrowing the life I’ve lived previously?
What if I’ve ever been wrong?
The moment I started asking myself that question, possibilities began to open everywhere. If I’ve never been wrong, then my loudness is a strength. As is my intuition. And my strong emotions. And my imagination. And believing in magic. And my desire for luxurious things. And my intenseness.
If I’ve never been wrong, my body is perfect. And my sexuality is my superpower. And I’m stunningly beautiful. And I’m in love with myself.
If I’ve never been wrong, I know exactly what I’m doing in business. And I’m actually a genius with money. I go through spurts of spending on myself and spurts of saving. I can trust the ebbs and flows.
If I’ve never been wrong, I don’t have to be so goddamn scared all the time. I can do this. I can do all of this. And I’m powerful beyond all measure.
The possibilities open. Everywhere.
Because, if I’ve never been wrong, then I don’t have to carry the immense shame around with me. I don’t have to think that I look wrong or take the wrong actions or make the wrong decisions.
I don’t have to hide who I am. I don’t have to worry if what I said is to vulnerable or embarrassing. I don’t have to second-guess every decision. And, even when things don’t work out, I don’t have to shame myself. I can be grateful for the powerful lesson. Because I’ve never been wrong.
For me, the day I started asking myself, “What would be possible if you’ve never been wrong?” is the day I stopped starting from the baseline that I AM WRONG. That everything I do is wrong. That I can’t trust myself. And that I need to look outside of myself for answers.
What if I’m the only person who knows how to make decisions in my life? What if my decisions are the perfect business decisions? The perfect life decisions?
What would be possible if you’ve never been wrong?
What could your life look like?
Let me know in the comments or jump over to the Sacred Branding™ Facebook group to share and support each other over this powerful topic.
It’s one of the most powerful questions I’ve ever asked.
Sending you lots of love.