So sigh, I’m not good at being a sugar baby. I have too much mouth and I like to dictate my own schedule.
So…. I had to go back to a 9-to-5.
Throws self to floor, violently shakes, pounds fists into carpet, grabs at carpet hairs, tears streaming down my face, guttural scream
I’ve already decided this is going to be a 3-part series. So strap yourself in and buckle up.
Let’s rewind to a little over a year ago. I had finally pieced together an entrepreneurial journey that I felt comfortable with. I had my 1:1 coaching clients, a small caseload, but the majority showing up, doing the work, digging in. I had my rolling psychic readings that were slowly gaining traction. Shout out to Lana, Kyle and A24 for the “Look Into My Eyes” documentary. And I had my corporate contracts: the BK bar, the charter school that brings me in quarterly, Grief and Loss Workshops, and I was a corporate manager at a for-profit healing business. Together, that touched on all the aspects of career that fill my soul. I was sustaining living independently here in the City. Yes, I had to budget. Yes, I had to sacrifice and plan to travel. Yes, I had to continually figure out marketing, branding and upleveling, but I was doing it. The contract Program Manager gig, I knew, would come to an end when the organization became more stable (a contract program manager rarely makes sense operationally in the long run), and it did just that. Not the way I hoped, but I felt assured about that door closing.
Simultaneously, I could see my coaching clients dropping off one by one. Now, usually when that happens, more would come. Hey, I can’t tell you how or why that was the cadence, it just was. My hospitality clients (those in the restaurant and bar industry) and my Executive Function clients were feeling the effects of the plummeting economy, and unfortunately, I was too.
I was in year 5 of running my business full-time, 9 years of being a business owner period. I had seen MONTHS of being in the red. And honestly, I was grateful for my poverty-stricken upbringing, because I had no shame working out a payment plan for ConEdison or paying $20 a month on a debt. I had learned my lesson the last time, during a dip in business (which EVERY business owner goes through), that I will NOT get rid of therapy. Do you know how hard it is to go through one of Earth’s lessons WITHOUT support?! sucks teeth So this time I dug in deep, kept my bi-weekly cadence for my heart and mind, because I could tell this dip was different.
Nothing. And when I say nothing — NOTHING was coming through.
turns to camera one When I left that 9-to-5 at the beginning of COVID, I VOWED to never come back.
And like I said, I’m not a good sugar baby. Okay, okay, honestly, I never really tried. I think I would be better at Only Fans, but I digress.
My therapist and I spent months, from June to September. How many sessions is that? Yeah, 8 sessions. Trying to get me to shift. I was in disbelief. I felt like a failure. And honestly, sometimes I still do. Tears are welling up in my eyes as I’m writing this now. I felt like I was betraying my vow. And biggest of all — SPIRIT, WHAT THE ENTIRE FUCK?! I have a Master’s, I’m a published author TWICE, cited in Essence Mag, the Times, the Post, the New Yorker, and in an A24 documentary. You can press play on any device and my face pops up on a screen — AND I NEED TO GO BACK TO A 9-TO-5?! ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?! Bro, I was in disbelief.
Listen, I’m going to have a tantrum. As a Cancer Sun, I am going to tantrum, but I’m going to dig in and I won’t give up without a fight. I had a lil chunk of change from a 3-day corporate gig and I decided: I need a business coach, strategist, operational partner, somebody. I need help, because obviously I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing. I sent out the call via Threads, set up some interviews, and began that process. The person I wanted was 8K a month. Baby, I’m choosing between happy hour and groceries. That’s definitely out of my budget. The people in my price range were offering pre-packaged, self-directed coaching packages. No! NO! That’s not what I want. I need a person who can thread the needle of heart-centered work and what I need to do to tell the world who I am, so they’ll spend their coins on me. It came down to a woman in London, who I think about still to this day, and another woman whose plan seemed more laid out, but who was quite desperate, and she shitted on the other woman, so that left a bad taste in my mouth. I sat with it for a few more weeks, all while crying for 45 minutes of my 55-minute therapy sessions. And ultimately, I didn’t pull the plug. I needed that money to survive.
As a cardinal sign, when my claws get clamped on an idea or an approach, with my tendency to high-achieve. Universe, you’re going to have to drag me back to non-profit pits of hell kicking and screaming. I found myself rereading the email I sent my team when I left:
Subject: Never goodbye, just a see you later – N. Hall
This is not a good bye, but a see you later,
I arrived at here because my previous agency Pathways to Housing was going under. It was definitely an adjustment going from a smaller agency to a larger one. I was a Big Fish in a Little Pond and adjusting to Little Fish in a Big Pond… well, let’s say, that took some time getting use to.
What I quickly discovered at the core of it all, this place does care. (I will miss the summer company picnic) I only worked under the Behavioral Health Division, and I can definitively say – that ship is ran tight and ran well. Of course, I have heavily rolled my eyes at emails, spreadsheets, felt the missteps of people being human, etc, but from my VP, to my direct supervisor, I have gained solid professional skills that will not only take me into my next chapter, but far after that. I have been given opportunities to sit at tables that would not have been given to me, if it was not for various people opening those doors. Thank you. I vow to pay that forward.
Team, don’t loose your essence, don’t loose the vision, don’t change the mission, don’t pollute the program with paperwork or systems that are contrary to the greatness that is built. I remember when we use to call this department the “promise land.” It works because we get to really show up for our clients in a way other programs doesn’t allow. Every employee tied to this department is doing really great work. You are apart of something really special – even on the days when it doesn’t seem like it.
Queue Diana Ross’ I’m coming out I LLC’d my business, Achieving Balance Counseling & Holistic Center LLC, in January 2016 (business card attached). So for five years I have been building my own and the time is here for me to go full time. You would think moving to NYC without a job and sleeping on a sorority’s sisters couch for three months was enough adventure for me, but alas here I am again. Peruse my website: www.abcholisticcenter.net Buy my book: Letters to Grief, A Guide to Understanding and Normalizing Loss, found on Amazon and link here. Schedule yourself a session, consult with me to conduct a Grief workshop or run a Health and Wellness training, and mention my name in spaces where I am not there. It takes a village and you are apart of mine.
Remember to dream big. Remember to dream out loud. It is never too late to begin, start over, revamp or revise. If I can, you can too.
We all know the world is smaller than we know it, so I will not say good bye, but see you later.
And with that I will, Twirl into the wind
You see, work is not just work, it’s the vehicle of how I operate in my purpose. Career is not just career, it’s my calling manifesting. When I am in a reading and I feel Spirit in the room, I am equally in awe, humbled, and energized that I get to do this work. When I am walking with a person for months while they grieve their marriage, a person, a system, it’s an honor to help make Earth more manageable. When I am facilitating circle, I can feel people’s hurt, confusion, and pain transform into wonder, curiosity, and hope.
I am a Healer. I am a Spaceholder. I am a Witch. I am an Alchemist.
And I have to go back to timesheets, pointless meetings, building someone else’s vision, and being a cog in a machine? My gawd, why have you forsaken me? Let me just pack my shit and go back to Oklahoma, because I can live there and still do what I love.
That was a thought I considered OFTEN.
I know it seems like this is about not wanting to go back on my word, or that I’m looking down on a 9am to 5pm, or calling this going backwards. That is NOT the case. AT ALL. I worked full-time AND built my business for 4 years. It was grueling. It was tiresome. I am not that bushy-eyed 30yo who can pull 12-hour days anymore. And more than that, I don’t WANT to. Because here’s the thing: there is no higher high, under the career box, than an idea landing in your mind at 2am, taking up residence in your heart, and you turning it into a living, breathing thing that other people want to buy, want to come to. chills
THAT is my legacy. Not kids: I don’t want them, don’t really even like them (I think I did that A LOT in my former lives). Not romance: not a priority, won’t ever be. (And can we dismantle the patriarchy already? Like yesterday.) I’ve got a small family, all of us thriving in our own right. So when I picture my death bed or me, wrinkly, in a rocking chair, sitting on a front porch what I want to see behind me is lives changed for the better. A legacy of health, wellness, and people learning to walk their own path with awareness, curiosity, and an open heart.
How am I supposed to build THAT doing mindless spreadsheets because I have to track my team’s progress notes?! So you see, this was never just about paying mi bills. (Though real talk: if this reaches a Sugar Daddy or Momma at this point… holla at me.)
So I did it. I sent the email to the very agency I twirled away from. The same agency that had become one of my top contracts. And poof, just like that, I was back in non-profit management.
*Turns to camera” And to those who’ve been hitting the pavement for months, even years, looking for employment: I understand this can come across as tone deaf. Please don’t confuse my point of view with a lack of empathy for your journey.
I figured I’d stack my paper, put my head down, do this with my eyes closed. I’ve run programs. I’ve led teams. Easy money.
Chile. Nothing — and I mean NOTHING — could’ve prepared me for what was waiting for me.
Because at the end of my first week back, I sashayed into my boss’s office, stood right in front of his desk, and asked:
“This staff has a problem with women, right?”
And he looked at me and said:
“Yes.”
To be continued…
