I was born an entrepreneur. My parents have always been their own bosses, owning their own companies and ventures. No surprise I picked up on this contagious entrepreneurial spirit.
My first job was selling snow cones at the 4th of July parade in my hometown at the wise age of seven going on 20. That turned into selling everything from sugary snow cones to lemonade to Mikey Ways and Snickers after school and all summer at my parents heavy equipment rental store. I would set up my little square card table, arrange everything precisely including my carefully designed hand made sign and cash box neatly filled with what appeared to be all the money in the world. Me and my little card table.
I would ask every construction worker, employee, breathing soul that came into the store if they wanted whatever I was selling that day. No inhibition or doubt. Sometimes I would sit and read for hours with no sale. Sometimes I would sell out, come home and count all the money I made. It didn’t matter, I would go out the next day after and give it my all.
Love that girl!
I would save up and spend a small portion of it on the latest Barbie or book. But, I would on my own doing save most of it which is now playing number games in the stock market.
I could learn a lot from that little snot nosed girl. I have not lost all of that self driven- boss lady- gumption. What has changed is my damn ego.
I get scared. I am stingy with sharing my coaching or ecstatically tell everyone about my business. The mini version of me didn’t care. Heck, she offered those snow cones and candy bars to everyone. She didn’t think, “They probably can’t afford it.” or “What if they don’t see the value or say the dreaded NO” or “Damn, it can be a lot of work to be your own CEO.”
She was determined, not attached to the end result of the sales and gave her all everyday.
That little one is still in there, she is the fire under my ass and my inspiration to give it my all, daily and playfully.