I remember walking into the break-room, anxious to talk with my manager. I knew what I wanted to do, but I also knew I was scared. I knew the risks, I felt the fear, and I could list every reason why I shouldn’t do it. But that conversation was when everything changed for me and I’ll never forget what my manager said to me that day.
You see, I worked for a little caffeination supply company called, Starbucks. For three years to be exact. It wasn’t high-paying and it wasn’t really job security but it was a side job to get me through college while I got my business off the ground. It was a security blanket, really. Here’s the thing about me; I love blankets. They’re warm, cozy, they add a layer of security from harsh elements, and they look nice when they’re folded up neatly in the corner of the room. But sometimes blankets can feel too heavy, they get in the way when you’re twisted up in them, and once you’re warm and toasty you start to feel like you might not really need the blanket anymore.
Starbucks was my blanket. It was cozy… it was easy. But it sure didn’t make me happy and I knew that being my own boss would make me happier. I was scared though. I wanted to hold onto my security blanket so I walked into the break-room and told my manager, “So here’s the deal, how about I stay on for like 2 days per week? You know, just in case things don’t work out with being my own boss.” At that moment, he looked me straight in the eyes and said something I’ll never forget, “You don’t need to work here anymore, you’re not happy here. You can do it, Nicole. You’ll be okay.”
“You can do it, you’ll be okay,” has resonated with me ever since. He gave me the nudge, and the extra shove that I needed to chase after my exceptionally unstable but worth fighting for dreams.
Sometimes I want to throw the towel in because being my own boss is HARD. Yes, I wear sweatpants to the “office,” and make my own schedule, but it’s so much more than that. I get down on myself and my failures quite often but I’m always brought back to that moment in the break-room where someone believed in me. He believed in me in a way I didn’t believe in myself and that’s something that meant the world to me.
I don’t know where you’re at, what you’re dreaming of, or when you’ll leap in… but I do know this… whatever happens? You can do it, you’ll be okay. Your dreams may be small or they may be big, but whatever they are you have to start now. If not now, when? Here is your nudge, your permission even. It’s not easy and you’ll feel every emotion along the way, but I want you to know that you’ll be okay.
