October 2014 - Rebecca T Dickson

You know that feeling in your gut I always tell you to listen to no matter how unpopular the response? The whomp that wakes you up at night, leaving you sweaty and out of breath?

As entrepreneurs, opinions abound on how we should run our businesses. They come from family, industry leaders, clients and – most importantly – ourselves.

Yet it’s not popular for us to listen to our thoughts. We’re quite adept at ignoring our needs in favor of everyone else’s. Too good.

If there’s one thing you’ve learned from me over the years, I hope it’s that you must always, always, ALWAYS be who you are.

“But,” the naysayers cry, “if we want to be successful, shouldn’t we listen to our clients first?”

Hell no.

We’ll never make everyone happy.

Ever. No matter how hard you and I bust our asses, people will not be satisfied. Concerned friends will crop up. The dreaded “competition” will rear its head.

They’ll whisper: “What the hell is she doing?”

(For the record, it’s good to keep ’em guessing. Mystique and all that.)

Sometimes even the most successful people get overwhelmed by what they think they should be doing, rather than listening to their gut. So many people rely on us as entrepreneurs – employees, suppliers, assistants, clients, kids and spouses – to name a few.

This is why the coaching field is wildly popular. A nice kick in the ass to keep us on track works wonders. It’s what I’ve been doing for years with writers.

During my time with them and through building my business, I also learned how to use social media to bring in badass clients. I wrote my own copy, mastered social media, done the invoicing, contracts, scheduling, follow ups, and on and on. I built this place from the ground up.

Funny, it didn’t dawn on me until a few weeks ago that I am an entrepreneur too.

So when the idea hit me – holy fuck, I can show entrepreneurs how to build their own successful businesses – I tossed it into the pile of later to-dos.

I kept my focus where it had been for as long as RebeccaTDickson.com existed: on writers. I played with coaching entrepreneurs, hosting hour-long sessions on the down-low. Because if anyone knew I was doing this, I could lose everything I worked so hard to build.

But you know…

That damn pang in the gut does not go away. It demands to be given audience no matter how hard we ignore, deflect, even run.

My new entrepreneur clients got results F A S T. The kind they wanted, needed, craved. And that sat with me during my writing client calls. It ate dinner with me. It even kept me awake at night.

How could I possibly leave writer coaching when I was so successful?

Unsurprisingly, the answer was as simple as the shit I’ve been preaching to you forever:

Sometimes doing what’s right isn’t what’s popular.

More often than not, doing what’s good for you will not please everyone. So the hell with it.

Sound the trumpets. Here’s a big, fat, hairy announcement:

From now until the next gut-achingly induced change, I show business owners and coaches how the hell to build a life for themselves. I help them find clarity, clients and cash. A schedule they can live with. The kind of mindset that helps you attract the right clients and the money. And perpetual fucking giddiness, the kind of happy that only comes from doing what you love on your own terms.

I’m showing them the tools and the path. And I’m doing it without apologizing.

What this means

Rebecca T. Dickson is a business coach who ALSO helps entrepreneurs pen the books with which they want to build their platforms. In short, I’ll show you how to build your biz from the ground up, how to make money and I’ll edit the shit out of anything you need polished before it goes public.

I’m done with everything else.

Is it scary kicking paying customers to the curb? Fuck yeah.

Is it terrifying to have spent tens of thousands of dollars on a website redesign and new packages and courses, all of which I am now abandoning? Yep.

What will people think? Whatever they want.

This is about me. What lights me up, makes me leap out of bed in the morning and dance because I’m so excited about doing work I love.

Because when we do what we love, we are passionate. And passion means our clients benefit in ways you can’t imagine. We naturally over-deliver. The people we serve get twice the value.

Soooooooo, while I’m going to miss the hella awesome clients I’ve had for years, I’m not sad about switching gears for two reasons.

First, I only want to do what I am passionate about. It’s how I best serve people. And second, if I did my job right, they should be able to fly on their own.

So I’m not sorry to leave them…

Because they don’t need me anymore.

• • •

If you want to see the next version of RebeccaTDickson.com and all the business badassery, be sure to get on this list. In the coming weeks, this site will be overhauled. New offerings, new images, new ways to work with me. I can’t wait to help you! xo

This month’s installment of a column brought to you by . . . YOU.

This is where we give up control of what’s said and hand it over to the people who matter most: our clients. Your words appear in this space, once a month.

Why?

Oodles of ah-ha moments.

Some of the writers who appear here didn’t have a clue where to start and subsequently transformed into writing machines. Some started right where you sit today, confused and needing guidance or maybe a little inspiration. And some were seasoned authors who needed a boost.

ALL of them figured it out and wrote epic shit.

This week, meet Cab.

***

January, 2010. Sacramento, California.

I want to be a writer, need to be a writer. I start a blog and name it Wordletting. I bleed on it as I wander through turbulent changes in my life. The words are slow and draw out like molasses. Clunky and ambling, they are true nonetheless. It is the beginning of my journey.

July, 2010. The Internets.

I find her as Thinking Too Hard. All I have are her anonymous words. They are raw and full of heart. Her flaws and wounds exposed in ways that often read like a mirror. Sometimes they shoot me square in the chest. Who is this remarkable woman? I have to know.

July 12, 2010. A virtual meeting.

I reach out with an email and receive a warm welcome. It turns out we have a lot in common, except we live nearly as far from each other as possible while both still living in America. At least our words travel the distance with ease. A friendship begins but I’m not quite satisfied…

September, 2010. In the sticks, New Hampshire.

I’m on her doorstep. Her son answers the door. She serves me strong coffee in her old and rustic cape kitchen. There are Shepherds in the back yard, and books lining the walls inside. We talk on the front porch as she smokes. It’s a whimsical and brief meeting but I’m glad for it.

2011. Somewhere in my head.

My words sputter-wander. I float. She checks in, prods…Are you writing? Yes, sometimes. I have an editing spot for you, she offers. I take it, glad to feel wanted. I write a little and think about a book. She advises. She advocates while I doubt. Mom dies and I drift out with the tide.

2012. Lost in loss.

Words are rare here. My sense of direction fails. I give up on almost everything and yield to resistance and distraction. Life carries on, but at the expense of growth and fulfillment.

September, 2013. She gives, again.

We haven’t had much contact but still she tries. She sees something in me I don’t, offers opportunity I deny myself. She holds the door open, leads me to water. She drafts me into her mastermind. Are you writing? Yes, but it’s hard. She pokes. Just write, she says. Just write.

July, 2014. All I have are words.

Sometimes it’s the persistent faith that others have in us that move us forward. Like a benevolent Poe’s raven, she keeps tapping, poking, prodding. Pushing. Her dogged call of Writesomemore never lets me completely lose momentum. She never lets my flame die out.

Now that I’ve left my dead-end career of the past 23 years, all I have are words. I’m writing a book. I’m a writer. Becky is my proof than one person can make a difference. She’s a giver. Once she told me, I’ll toss you over my shoulder if I have to. She wasn’t joking.

***

Come back next month for another edition of “Pictures of Success in 1,000 Words or Less. Cab can be found here.