Why Growth Feels So Damn Uncomfortable
Dear Creator Diary,
It’s time to admit the truth. I’m terrified to keep growing.
It’s not for lack of ability, I know I’m capable. I know I’m smart enough, scrappy enough, and persistent enough to figure out almost anything.
The issue lies deep in my subconscious. It’s the part of me trying to “keep me safe”. The part that bullies me into staying small, staying quiet.
It’s odd, because on one hand I deeply desire to been seen, heard and understood. I want to be admired, adored even. I want to be an example, a role model, a change maker.
But in the same breath, I’m anxious about how I’ll be received.
I think back to the early days in this business and what got my business to grow so quickly.
Delusional confidence.
At the time, I could not possibly comprehend how many people would see my content, open my emails, watch my workshops, download my podcast. If anything, I felt like I was just documenting my own journey and y’all just happened to have a backseat to all my inner thoughts.
But then the numbers grew, and so did the pressure. Suddenly, I became acutely aware of how I might be perceived. I began to edit myself. Editing out the controversy, the weird, the awkward, the dark humor, the slightly inappropriate.
The very things that made me feel most like myself.
I recently heard a quote that suggested we’ve become so obsessed with being “appropriate” that we edit out all the interesting parts of ourselves. To make us as much the same as everyone else. It’s safer to blend in, it’s safer to be in the majority.
I’m not afraid of failure. I’m afraid of being misrepresented. Of being misunderstood. I’m afraid that someone could publicly question my values, my integrity, my self—and that I wouldn’t survive it.
The world has become more divided, more aggressive, more shamelessly willing to cancel people’s lives. Doxing culture is perhaps my biggest fear. One poorly phrased sentence could unravel everything I’ve worked for. Not the business, not the bank account. Me.
For my whole life, I felt like that was the one thing you couldn’t take away. “I’ll always be a good person.” The thought that someone else could decide, dictate even who you are on the deepest innermost parts of ourselves.
I could vomit. I immediately get so uncomfortable.
I have things to say, and endless amount actually. But risking who I am as a person, that feels too vulnerable.
I could lose everything—all my money, all my earthly possessions, my house, my car, all of it. And I have no doubt I could rebuild. If I’ve been broke once, I could do it again if I had to.
But something like this, well, my brain doesn’t comprehend how you go on. Obviously, it happens all the time. We know the celebrities, brands, people who’ve been canceled what feels like a dozen times and they still have followers, they still make money, they still go on.
The rational part of my brain understands that. However, often we start to think of these people as shameless, selfish, self-centered. They do not care what people think!
I care! Why do I have to fucking care so much?
I care because I so desperately want to help people. I want to bring them to safety, security, true financial freedom. And I realize there is a lot of BS strun about this subject. But when I tell you to the greatest depths of my being that I want people to have their needs met, them to feel safe in their homes and communities, to be respected, to be independent. It is so important to me.
If no one was watching…
If I didn’t have to be strategic…
If I wasn’t aiming to serve, grow, or convert…
I’d still be:
Observing patterns
Making beauty out of systems
Writing out what I’m learning
Guiding people toward what’s possible
Holding space for nuance, both mine and theirs
That’s who I am.
Questioning who I am, feels like a threat to my very existence.
How do I get out of my own damn way? Great question, I’d love to tell you.
But frankly, I have no idea. At least not yet.
