It was 2002 – six months after I’d escaped the stripper pole.
Finally, I’d arrived.
No longer taking my clothes off to make a living, I thought I was on my way to having the career I’d always dreamt of as a little girl.
The one where I wore Joan Collins style power-suits, rode in limousines while drinking Champagne and eating Beluga caviar, and negotiated multi-million dollar deals in luxurious penthouse boardrooms.
Well, that’s not exactly what my job was like … yet.
It was more like hook up a construction-trailer, drive to the hardware store to pick up sheet-rock, 2 X 4’s, and plumbing supplies all the while maintaining some sort of resemblance of a high-heeled fashionista.
But I thought that with enough hard work, I could make it my dream career a reality.
However, after 3 years of wheelin’ and dealin’ commercial real estate, I wasn’t riding to work in a limousine penthouse – or wearing Joan Collins style power-suits – and the worst part? Even though, there were ample opportunities to advance my career and make lots of money, I began to hate my job.
I started to hate my job.
: I no longer got up the first time the alarm rang.
: I came to work later and later and left as soon as I could.
: I cried in the bathroom (and wrecked my Dior mascara) on a weekly basis.
: I thought about going on Prozac.
But rather than quit my job, I told myself to buck up and be strong, that no job is ever perfect.
I kept lying to myself.
And kept crying in the bathroom (and wrecking my Dior mascara).
There were ample opportunities to advance my career and make lots of money. I HAD IT MADE! A corner office, I didn’t have to take my clothes off – and I could watch Oprah while working.
Any sane person from the outside would look at my job and think I had a good thing going. But I was NOT happy!
I had no idea what I was going to do for a career … or how to even go about figuring that out.
So I started planting seeds, speaking out to the Universe, waiting and listening …
And the Universe talked back. Big time (and what it said is another story for later)!
But I had to go first.
I had to make the heart and mental space to quit the career path I was walking. And look what happened!
It’s time to stop being strong – being strong can make you weak.
When you’re weak, you keep moving with the status quo – and grind down your soul.
Only losers keep living seemingly safe, predictable, pre-packaged lives that keep ’em chained to comfort.
And you’re no loser.
SO QUIT! That’s what WINNERS do.