Fear, Exposed – Featuring Jenny Foss, Part Deux
-
Photo credit: The Morty
-
The year? I’m not telling. More than 10 years ago.
The setting? The publisher’s office of a suburban daily newspaper in Metro Detroit.
The conversation? My interest in the night sports reporter position open at the paper.
As a junior reporter with a mission to prove to both self and the world that I was going places? When a “real
reporter” job became available at my first professional job ever? I wanted it.
No, I HAD to have it. It was my shot.
Sure, I didn’t know the difference between a safety and a two-point conversion. Nor did I have any particular passion for any particular sport.
And, really? The idea of working nights didn’t exactly thrill me.
But that night sports reporter job was IT. An opening. MY ONE SHOT. I knew this. So I set about on a mission to convince my editor and publisher that I was their gal.
Back to the publisher’s office.
The dialogue:
Jenny Foss: (insert eager young reporter face here) I’m motivated, I’m a great writer, I can learn every sport ever, I live to work nights, and I am ready, sir!
Big Imposing Publisher: Jennnnnifer (insert him near-patting me on the head here.) Jennnnifer. This isn’t a job that a young woman like yourself wants. This is not a job for a young woman like you.
Jenny Foss: (insert me silently thinking, “Where exactly is he going with this? Hey, is that ketchup on his shirt?”)
Big Imposing Publisher: Jennnnnifer. A young woman like yourself wants to be at home in the evening, having dinner with your husband and relaxing. This isn’t a job for a young woman like you. This is a hard job, Jennifer.
And you’ll have to hang out in sweaty gyms and work late into the night. I appreciate your interest Jennifer, but do shuffle along back to your little spot as a junior reporter. And let’s not try and make any more waves, dear, OK?
Jenny Foss: (Defeated.)
In the hours and days following that near-verbatim conversation (I know… where was litigation THEN!?), I felt so small.
I’d failed. I wasn’t worthy. I would never succeed in my career. I was unsuited to determine the best path for myself.
I did not stack up.
It took quite some time to recover from that incredibly morale deflating career moment. But once I finally did? I became blindingly determined to prove the publisher (and the editor, who as it turned out, held the same opinion) of that little suburban daily newspaper wrong.
I would succeed, dammit. Watch me, you two. Watch me.
Flash forward to 2011.
I am not a sports reporter.
(I do, however, understand the difference between a safety and a two-point conversion now, thankyouverymuch.)
Today, I operate a small, boutique recruiting agency (I really just say boutique so I sound fancy.)
I am also working my ass off in an effort to succeed as a digital entrepreneur (buy Ash’s book, buy Ash’s book!) You will find my heart and soul over on the blog I run, JobJenny.com. In one year, I’ve taken the thing from a $0/month income stream, to one that has generated more than $6K so far in 2011. I’m rather proud of that, and even more proud that I earn that money by helping people navigate today’s crapburger of a job market.
I’m even about to launch my first ebook (me! An author! Holy crap!), To Whom It May Concern: Or, How to Stop Sucking at Your Job Search.
Which is where the fear comes in.
And how it all ties back to that moment in the ketchup-stained-shirt publisher’s office more than 10 years ago.
By and large, I am succeeding in my career, dammit.
I run a company! I run a blog! I wrote a book! I’m doing it!
I imagine that, if I were to waltz back into that publisher’s office today (he’s long gone now, but I’m storytelling here, so roll with it,) I could do so with a certain air of, “Looky, looky, Ketchup Man. The dumb little neophyte reporter girl has come a lllloong way. Now hasn’t she? (I’d also pat him on the head, just for effect.)”
But, thanks in part to that moment?
I’m still scared as hell a lot of the time. Can I really pull this off? What if I don’t close a deal, or sell a resume service?
What if people don’t want my book? What if they buy it and don’t like it? Am I in over my head? Will my kids be proud of me? Will I be able to pay for braces and college and weddings? Is my husband mad at me because my nose is buried in my laptop so much of the time lately?
Do I stack up???
I am still not sure on that, more often than I care to admit.
But one thing I am sure of, in spite of that crumb ball publisher who planted huge, unnecessary seeds of doubt in my head so early on in my professional life?
I am sure that it’s not anyone’s entitlement to dictate if a job is or is not the right one for you.
That publisher had no right to determine what a young woman like me needed or did not need in her professional life.
Sure, he had the power to not hire me (and, I suppose I truly thank him for that now.)
But he didn’t have the right to try and take the driver’s seat and steer my career toward something he deemed “appropriate.”
I’m scared. But I’m now in the driver’s seat of my career, and nobody’s coming near my steering wheel.
And, to me? That’s a pretty big deal.
-
*****
Jenny Foss is not only drop dead dynamite, as her photo proves, but she’s a warrior at the intersection of career fulfillment meets social media meets self-marketing meets LET’S GET YOUR ASS THE HIP JOB YOU DESERVE, BECAUSE THIS LIFE IS DAMN SHORT, SUGAR. She’s insanely cool and she knows her stuff, so if you’re looking to rev things up a notch and get real about landing the career of your dreams, I’d highly suggest giving her a call. She makes job searching actually fun. And the woman can teach you how to best market yourself + your skill sets – which is a valuable asset to have at all times.
Click here to check out her resume service.
Click here to to check out her one-on-one down and dirty strategy sessions.
-
-
Check out 
Clients And Cash
You Don’t Need a Job – You Need Guts
