If you want to know how to make ten million dollars with a rubber chicken I will tell you that it isn’t easy and it takes time. I will explain in further detail as I write this book, and the next one, and the next one. You see, the money is not really what’s important. It is the story about how I will make the money that matters. You will want to keep reading if you want to know how I succeed and I will succeed despite any failure. Failure is already my inevitable casualty.
What you need to know is that I was willing to lose everything for these words you are reading now. I did lose everything. My husband went first and I can’t really say that I blame him. The things I was writing (and posting) about him were emasculating and really no one’s business. My intent was not to be hurtful. My intent was to be real, as in, this is the way life really is. Welcome to relationships. Welcome to marriage.
Our marriage was a great friendship. I trusted it. I relied on it. If you want to know how it is I came to be successful in business with very little education I will tell you it was thanks to that love. My first husband never doubted my ability and he was willing to invest in it. “Go for it. What’s the worst that will happen?”
The worst that could happen was that I didn’t know anything about business when I started mine. The worst that could happen was that in the beginning I was not able to secure any mentors in my chosen field. The worst that could happen was that I opened my photography business before I knew what an F-stop is on a camera. The worst that could happen, happened. The worst happened again and again and again. The more the worst happened the better I became. I needed and continued to step-up my game, mostly on the account of wanting to avoid future pain.
Anguish. Business is a cruel and gratifying mistress. A seduction more soothing than any man I have ever been with or known. It is also crippling and unforgiving until I found myself broken and bent, obsessed with the puzzle of how to keep the whole thing going and growing. Until I was not a person anymore. I existed to feed the machine.