No One Will Take You Seriously
/“No one is going to take you serious about your business, Robin.”
Photo credit: Kimmi Ward, Big Mission Studios, Minneapolis 2019
This is the thought that woke me up abruptly at 5 a.m. from a nightmare. In my dream, I was teaching a yoga class. I had a class full of students, several of whom were my friends. Everyone was talking as the class began. I couldn’t get my playlist to play properly. It was on the wrong Spotify account and ads kept playing in the background. I kept switching songs until I finally got it to work. All the while, I was trying to instruct my students to get into various yoga poses. Some people were listening and trying to follow along. Others were not paying attention and were instead having mini conversations. I finally got them through the integration and warm up. I looked at the clock, and I had already been teaching for 30 minutes, and there was only 30 minutes left to teach a full sequence. I clapped my hands to get the student’s attention. It took everything for me to not yell at them out of frustration for not listening to me. Even my friends who are yoga teachers were talking and laughing and not listening. I felt helpless. Finally, the talking stopped. At one point someone asked me if I could speak up. I was already straining my voice and told them I was trying my best. As I was trying to teach again, a group of people in the back of the room started singing A Capella. Their singing was beautiful, but it wasn’t the time for that. It was time for yoga! I got so frustrated. I marched to the back of the room and clapped my hands to get their attention. I told them this was a yoga class and they needed to be in it or get out of the room. And if they wanted to sing, fine, but they needed to do so out of the room.
Anger and frustration consumed me.
Not only was I not being heard, I was not taken seriously as a teacher—not even by my friends.
I awoke abruptly from this nightmare. My body was drenched in sweat. The statement, “No one is going to take you seriously, Robin.” was running through my mind.
Luckily, it was just a dream.
But the message rang loud and clear. I’ve been so afraid to put myself out there, offer my services, and tell the world what I’m doing, and how I can be of service and support. I’ve been afraid to promote myself and toot my own horn about amazing things I’m already doing (speaking on stage, leading retreats, modeling in photoshoots all over the world!). I’ve made hints of what it is that I’m doing, yet, I’ve been afraid that I won’t be taken seriously or will be seen as flaky. I’ve been afraid that people won’t believe me or think it’s real.
“There’s Robin telling us something else that she’s “thinking” of doing.”
Fear is a b**tch sometimes. It fills our heads with lies and stories to keep us safe from taking any type of step that could jeopardize or change our reality.
I quit my corporate career a year and a half ago to follow my dream of traveling the world. Since that time, I’ve solo traveled to 17 countries across 6 continents. I’ve spent time resting, resetting, exploring, and trying on different opportunities to sustain this lifestyle. I’ve given myself time and space to ask what it is that I really want to do. I’ve hinted at it off and on, yet haven’t fully flipped the switch. I’ve held my ideas and projects close to my heart, and I’ve allowed fear and resistance to stop me from fully launching—or better yet, owning it.
In many ways, I’ve felt like a fraud.
Photo credit: Kimmi Ward, Big Mission Studios, Minneapolis 2019
On the surface (and on social media), I look like I’ve got it “all together”. I’m a free spirit. I’m bouncing from experience to experience and live among different cultures. I’m modeling in photoshoots in exotic places. I’ve placed such high expectations on myself because people are watching me and living vicariously through me. What if I fail and let people down? Or what if I succeed and people expect more from me? It’s the good ole’ Upper Limit problem that Gay Hendricks speaks about in his book, The Big Leap.
These false expectations have gotten in the way from me owning my potential and earning my worth.
When I meet new people or reunite with old acquaintances, I am met with this question — “How are you affording your travels or this lifestyle?” Every time this question is asked of me, I’m cringing on the inside. I feel exposed. While many are asking out of sheer curiosity or from a standpoint of “how can it be possible?”, I feel like I’m being violated. I don’t ask how you afford your mortgage each month, so why are you asking me how I can afford this lifestyle?
It’s not really about the question or the lifestyle. Yes, this lifestyle can be extravagant, however, it can also be very simple and affordable. The question is asked because we have this notion that travel is expensive, or that anything outside of societal norms must be difficult to keep up. For me, however, the question is mirroring my fear on the inside— “How am I making enough money to sustain this Lifestyle? How can I be a business owner and make enough money to support myself? Why haven’t I owned what it is that I’m doing or committed to it?”
The thought “if you only knew” runs through my mind. It’s Imposter Syndrome at its finest. Yet, you wouldn’t know that. Being “the poised, look-good-no-matter-what” kind of person that I am, I always reply that I’m doing freelance work while I’m building my business. Or I can afford it because I don’t have rent, a car payment, or other bills. I justify it to make others (and myself) feel good.
It’s not about the business or the questions about my lifestyle. It’s about the mindset I’ve had around it.
The truth is, I’m not where I thought I would be at this point in my journey. I’m turning 35 in 2 weeks, and I honestly thought I would have had my business fully launched by now and would be further along. I thought I’d have numerous clients, sponsors, investors—income flowing in. I thought I’d have my book draft written. I thought I’d have it all figured out by now. Even writing that seems laughable…do we ever have it figured out?
Perhaps I am not where I thought I would be (or where you thought I’d be), yet I am where I’m meant to be. And so are you.
Photo credit: Rachael Lorraine Grosz Jones, Soulquestt, New zealand 2019
I’ve been on a journey of discovering more and more about who I am and what I want. I’ve invested thousands of dollars and hours in myself. I’ve learned to wholeheartedly accept and love who I am despite what others may think. I’ve learned to believe in myself. I’ve allowed my whole self to be seen and validated by the women in my coaching program, and I am learning to do the same to each person reading this. I’ve let go of attachment to people who were not serving me in a healthy way. I’ve put my beliefs on the line and dared to claim that I believe something different. I’ve been living my dream of traveling the world! I’ve discovered what it is that I’m meant to be doing, and I’m learning to own it. I’ve learned to take things at my pace and understand that some things take more time. I’ve allowed myself to be supported by others through coaching, mentoring, food, lodging, hugs, and encouragement. I’ve launched online programs, co-lead my first retreat, modeled in 7 international photoshoots, spoken on stage at a conference in New Zealand, and partnered on many writing projects.
I have all of the evidence to show how supported, loved and cared for I am no matter the circumstance. I’ve been met with such kindness all over the world, and even online.
I can look back and see all that has happened and how much I’ve grown from it. That’s how clever and sly fear is. It knows how to pull you from what you’ve done or what you’re doing and pull you back into the safety of despair.
The fear, resistance, doubt, shame, and judgment that have been blocking me from fully owning who I am and what I want, are “just” emotions. Of course, they are strong and powerful emotions that continue to show up. But they are just emotions.
I can acknowledge them, sit with them and feel their weight, but they don’t have to own or consume me anymore.
As Elizabeth Gilbert says about Fear in her book, Big Magic, “There’s plenty of room in this vehicle for all of us, so make yourself at home, but understand this: Creativity and I are the only ones who will be making any decisions along the way. I recognize and respect that you (Fear) are part of this family, and so I will never exclude you from our activities, but still—your suggestions will never be followed. You’re allowed to have a seat, and you’re allowed to have a voice, but you are not allowed to have a vote.”
Fear/Ego/Resistance tells me no one will take me or my business seriously. It tells me I’m a fraud and people will see right through me. It tells me to stop playing and grow up. It tells me I’m almost 35 and should have it “all together” by now. It tells me not to show others who I really am—that if I do, I will lose them and be alone. It tells me to play small and not be too big. And it tells me that I have to do it all on my own so that I can prove to others and myself that I did it.
Fear/Judgement/Doubt/Shame/Guilt/Resistance will consume you and tear you apart if you allow them to.
They are not going anywhere. They will be with you and show up again and again. They will try to keep you safe and stop you. They will try to convince you that you’re not ready, and likely never will be. They will tell you that you’ll never make money working for yourself and that it’s time to get a “real job.” And better yet, after you do the thing you’ve been wanting to do, they will beat you up and tell you how you “should’ve” done this or that. They will try to knock you down. While these thoughts are real, they’re just that—thoughts. They don’t have to consume you.
The less attention you give to them, the more powerless they become, and the more powerful you become.
To Fear and its dis-empowering friends, I say, “No more.” You are not allowed to have a vote or a say as to how I live my life or receive money. You will not rob me of my talents and gifts by telling me I’m not good enough. You will not stop me from putting myself out there because you think I’ll be hurt or rejected or that no one will take me seriously.
Enough is enough.
I wrote all of this to remind you (and myself) that I am human and so are you. I deal with fears and sometimes allow them to consume me. I wrote this to show you that life doesn’t have to look the way that others’ lives do or how society tells you it’s supposed to be. I write to show you that you are not alone; to pay attention to what life is showing you, and to wake up when dreams are screaming at you with a message. To own who you are, what you want, and step boldly towards it. To believe that support is there for you when you’re ready to receive it.