Marching to My Own Strange Drummer

Sitting in my office on a beautiful 70 degree March day, sun stream in g in the windows, listening to Norah Jones and having just completed a project that I have been working on for months, I stared out the window and wondered why I did all this. Why jump off a cliff to be self-employed in my 40’s, why do it during the worst recession since the Great Depression, why leave a big corporate job, that was secure, great pay, great benefits  and even a great boss. And the answer was simple. I just simply, HAD to do it. To own my own ad agency has been my dream since I was a very little girl. It was like the calling women get to become Nuns. It was there, then it was stronger and then it was all consuming. Like a screaming in my soul. Sounds dramatic I know, but that is what it was. A calling.
People were hurt by what I did. Even though I went above and beyond to make sure my employer had plenty of notice, 90 days, and I spoke to my staff and tried to explain that this was not a rash decision, but a lifelong dream, people were hurt.  Even a couple of very good friends I had made, have fallen away and become “busy” when I reach out, but you know, that is ok. I am not mad at them and I don’t feel guilty about me.  People depended on me in my previous job, both from a client and employee/employer standpoint, but in the end, I decided that  I did have a right to live the life that I wanted to live, and in some sense, even an obligation to meet my own goals, because as they say “this isn’t a dress rehearsal,” folks.  And, frankly, I had outgrown my current position and I was bored. I needed a higher stress level to do my best work, more control over how to best serve my clients, and time to truly work to grow my clients businesses. I knew I could build a better mousetrap if I had the freedom to do it. I know when my clients tell me how much happier they are now, how much better service they are getting, and how I have become a partner in their business, that this was the right decision. Right for me, for them, for my life in general.

 People ask me what I will do if this business doesn’t survive in this economy. That makes me smile. Because, as strange as it is, I don’t really fear that.  If that happens, I will simply thank God for the strength to try. All that matters to me, is that when I look in the mirror when I am 80 years old, I can say, “Good for you, girl, you always wanted to live your life as a cliff jumper and march to your own drummer.” But mainly what matters to me most is that I kept a promise  I made to myself  on my 18^th birthday, “in the end, I will always listen to what my soul tells me is right and live my life according to that direction.”

 I will be able to smile at that old lady in the mirror, with a young girl’s blue eyes and say, “Good for you, girl, you have become what you aspired to be.”