Day 90 of the 365 Day Experiment. Building The Mystery.

I started this experiment, as just that - an experiment.  I wanted to see what would happen if a private person shared outwardly for an entire year, and if a major change would come as a result. And over the last three months, they certainly have.

I have shared stories that are private and gut wrenching, and some that are totally mundane.  

It allowed me to connect with many old friends.

It allowed me to communicate in a way, both for better and worse, that I never had before.

But mostly, I opened my world and let others in.  And it’s put me on tilt for three months.  So I have decided rather than view myself a failure for not completing a goal I set out to do, I will take pride in the fact that I set out to do something bold and learn from it.  And mission accomplished.  Whether it lasted the full year or not is irrelevant.  

My experiment is over.

I will continue to push myself and grow, and believe this will be the most growth oriented year of my life.   I will still hold myself accountable to the Day 365 goals, and know my life will be a completely different place in April.  Because it’s already in a different place than it was three months ago.  It’s not the writing that made the difference.  It’s the change in thinking that made the difference.

I will not beat myself up for not completing my experiment for its full 365 days.  Rather, I will be proud of myself for taking a risk and doing it the best way I could for 90 days.  And I’ll live out its intentions privately, because that, in the end, is more me.  I will, however, continue to push myself to be more open, and I will attempt to share more with those who are close to me.

As someone I greatly respect said to me recently,  (I am paraphrasing because I could never recreate the power of his words) the beauty that each of us holds as human beings is the ability to uncover the mysteries which each of us possess, and through meaningful relationships with those who truly matter, because these people are privileged enough to get to know you.

This resonated.  I went from sharing absolutely nothing to sharing almost everything to everyone.  And that’s not me.  I believe the words above to be true.  I would rather someone take the time to get to know me as a person by learning about me organically, not by reading my words.  So I’ll have to do my part and try to open up a little more to those who care to do so.

And with that, I thank all of you for the support, the encouragement, and taking the time to read.  The notion that anyone cared enough to do so has filled me with a indescribable feeling of humility and love.  

Day 89 of The 365 Day Experiment. Eyes Wide Open.

I don’t crawl in bed at night and snuggle down to drift off into a peaceful slumber. I pass out. As in, I’m so damn tired at the end of the day, I literally collapse for five hours and then rise to do it again.

I have jokingly called myself “the vampire" in recent years, and there is no pride that comes with that. As I write this, my alarm is to set go off in two hours. And yet I know even after the long day I had yesterday, my stress level is higher than normal so my thoughts are racing. And so here I lay awake.

We all carry our stress in different ways. For some it is habit based. I watch colleagues I care about struggle with work pressures through smoking or drinking too much. Some people make themselves physically ill to the point of panic attacks or physical manifestations. Some people overeat. There are millions of ways stress can surface. For me, I just can’t sleep. Or, I can’t stay asleep.

Unfortunately, there is no way around stress. its part of our lives. Fortunately, there are so many healthy alternatives to manage it. Personally, I find if I eat heathy, exercise, and “don’t sweat the small stuff," both my stress level and my killer headaches stay in pretty low gear. And yet if you throw in a few high stress elements all at once, (you know, say a divorce, a hyper-growth company, a team of people anxious to grow and develop and two children who always want more of me), any amount of my healthy habits can’t buffer me from the wear and tear.

We all need to do what works best for us.  I have taken to jumping out of bed if I can’t immediately fall back asleep to start scribbling on my bedroom whiteboard, or lying in the dark starting to write for the next day in an effort to make productive use of the time.  I guess I figure if I’m going to be wide awake I might as well make positive use of the time.

I hate being stressed out.  I hate not sleeping at night.  But I sure love the additional side benefit of the extra work getting done.

Day 88 of The 365 Day Experiment. Belief Is A Powerful Driver.

Defined in the dictionary as “the psychological state in which an individual holds a proposition or premise to be true."

Defined by Christina as, “if you dream it, you work ass off for it, are passionate about it and you have a little luck mixed in, it will be so."

A late day chat at work with the guy I share my office with - who happens to be our CEO - ended with a meeting of the minds.  I love sharing our space because he constantly challenges me to think in different ways, and we get to explore our world on a daily basis.  We poke holes in everything and dream big.  And we share a common trait of thinking audaciously, because we believe we can accomplish just about anything as a team.  Because, as he so eloquently put it, “belief is a powerful driver."

Our little company has been a great “one to watch" for a few years now.  We are known not just for our financial successes and rapid growth but for the premium we place on being a great place to work too.  And yet, our aspirations are so much greater.  All of us who signed up in leadership roles understood what this meant.  It didn’t just mean committing to long hours or the hard work that comes with being part of a hyper growth company.  It meant signing up for the mission.  And truly buying into the belief.  The belief we would all work together, and with our teams, to make something magical happen as one.

There are many kinds of belief.  I am just focused on the kind I have some kind of input and control over.  In my world, both personal and professional, I have learned that all my best successes have come from giving whatever it is my very best effort, a healthy dose of passion, getting the right support and help if appropriate, and then just believing it’s going to work out.   Ultimately if I don’t believe in it, why should anyone else?

I’m not a wishful thinking girl.  I don’t make bold wishes on pennies and hope my wildest dreams come true.  I’m pretty blue-collar when it comes to belief.  I realize I need to put in the hard labor to make my dreams, or my ultimate destiny, a reality.  I have no fairy godmother looking out for me.  At the end of the day, while I know people care about me and have my back, the only person who will ever 100% always believe in me is me.

And right now, with a company on the cusp of greatness and a personal life in the midst of transition, belief is, in fact, truly a powerful driver.

Day 87 of The 365 Day Experiment. Rooting For The Underdog.

What is it that makes us root for the underdog?

Is it because we view those who are disadvantaged appeal to that sense of fairness or justice in us?

Is it because we believe the underdog has to put in more effort than the expected winner?

I’m certain there has been a ton of psychological research done on this, ranging from the quentessitual example of Rocky Balboa through a variety of sports teams and real life people through the ages. But I’ll offer my own uneducated take on it. We see ourselves in the underdog.

When someone is on top, it appears that everything seemingly comes easy for he, she or them. We may cheer them on out of respect, out of awe, or out of true admiration. We may want to latch ourselves on to some small part of that magic by wearing their sports jerseys, or by supporting them however we can. We show them the love.

But more often than not, it is often easier to gravitate to the underdog. It is my belief that this is because we can see ourselves more readily in them. Not too many people can truly relate to a sports superstar, rock god or a business mogul. We can admire them, but we can’t completely relate to them. With underdogs, we get caught up in their magical journey. Remember the Miracle on Ice in 1980? Just a bunch of incredible U.S. hockey players who were never supposed to win the Gold in the Olympics. And we all went along for that ride with them. Their real life stories resonated with us.

And how about J.K. Rowling, author of the Harry Potter series? She was a single mother with no money when she sat in a coffee shop and began authoring what would go on to become one of the best loved series of all time.  Her intent was not to become one of the richest women of all time.  It was to write an amazing book.  And her humble story connected us to her.

Movies have done a brilliant job of capturing the underdog story, typically seen in sports themes. Million Dollar Baby, Rudy and Rocky have all been heartfelt and leave you cheering for the lead.  And yet its the movies with people just trying to survive life, such as the tale told in the epic Slumdog Millionaire that leave me speechless.

It’s that ability to root for the main characters and their set of unimaginable circumstances that underscore the true empathy.  And yet, while none of us could ever begin to truly comprehend to what these people have endured, they are relatable.   We can understand their feelings of struggle, of longing, and/or of doing anything to be with the person you love or accomplishing that seemingly impossible goal.

Perhaps I am way off on this, and I am the only one who views the world this way.  Maybe everyone has a different connection to it and this is just my own unique spin.  I’m curious, though, how others see it.  Because from where I sit, no matter how talented we each may be, we all picture ourselves as the underdog at some point in time.  And we all need someone in our corner cheering us on.

Day 86 of The 365 Day Experiment. I'd Like To Thank The Academy.

Yesterday was a turning point for me. Before sketching out my next few years, and committing that loosely imagined plan to text in the form of a 365th Day entry, I was content with just getting through this year.

No one will ever excuse me of being lazy or complacent. However, I was fairly comfortable that if I focused my energies on being the best mom I could be, and doing the best job I could do at work, I would have had a successful year following a “big life change." That, and writing a little bit every day for a year. To do those well, I thought that’s where the majority of my efforts need to go. And they still do. But then I stepped back yesterday and reassessed.  I have never been one to take the easy route.  I thrive when the pressure is on and the goals seem impossible.  So that’s what I’ve done.  I just laid out some pretty ballsy, audacious goals for myself.  Why?

Because I looked down at that stupid bracelet I wear that states simply “Life is not a dress rehearsal."  I try to live that on a daily basis, but I decided to take that to the next level and inspired myself to think more boldly. Things that have been on my to-do list for too long are now prioritized to find their way onto my “about to be doing" list. I carefully say “doing" as opposed to “done," because I hope these things remain an active part of my life as opposed to one-off activities. And a few new things I’ve been contemplating just got put into high gear.  I want to look back at my life when I am old and reflect back, “I lived the life I wanted to live. I experienced everything I wanted to experience.  I am complete."  And I’m on my way.

We are all capable of so much. It’s just a matter of what we chose to take on and make important in our lives. For the first time in my adult life, I have a bit of extra time to allow myself to be inwardly focused. Maybe I always did have that time, I just never took advantage of it and lost myself a bit. No matter. I’m back. And I’ve just rewritten the script recasting my role as the lead character in the movie of my life. And I'm going to win the Oscar in this movie, playing that role the best way I possibly can.  This girl is getting ready to shine.

Day 85 of The 365 Day Experiment. Easy Like A Sunday Morning.

What a perfect start to a morning.  One daughter is at a sleepover, the other still sleeping.  I've got a cup of coffee, the groceries have already been delivered and put away, and writing early so I can enjoy my one decadent night of tv watching with no distractions.

And as I had quiet time this morning earlier, I did what I often do.  I take to my bedroom whiteboard and start brainstorming. My co-workers know about this quirk of mine, but I don't think I've ever addressed it in print.  I painted one of my bedroom walls with whiteboard paint. If it's empty, you'd never be able to tell there's anything different about it than an ordinary wall.  But it's never empty.  It's how I think best.  As my most innovative ideas typically hit me when I am in bed or at my most relaxed, I have the ability to jump up and map them out.  Slightly crazy perhaps, but for me, the flow makes total sense.  My kids also have whiteboard walls.  It works for us.

So this morning I was up whiteboarding out my next few years.  Which is a challenge, because there are a significant amount of "if, then" statements in there.  I love that.  When I turned 24, I remember literally being so upset because I couldn't see a clear path for my future.  I was frustrated that I hadn't started a company yet.  That I hadn't found a life partner yet.  Talk about naive.  I cannot believe how much my point of view has changed in those 21 years.  I am happy I don't know what the future holds now.  It's all part of the adventure.

That said, there are some things in my control.  I don't want everything to be a surprise.  I want to know, for example, my finances are under control and my kids are well looked after.  I want to know I am not going to be alone for the rest of my life, and I'll end up sharing it with the right someone, at the right time.  There are some big things I want to accomplish like starting my own non-profit that I haven't had time to do with this current lifestyle that I need to find time to commit to developing.  That kind of stuff. 

So after I mapped out the important things, I stepped back and took stock.  And I wrote the entry for Day 365 of this experiment before I sat down to write Day 85.  If I am feeling courageous enough, I will share it on that day and see how close I am to having made progress on those items.  If I do, I will be the single boldest thing I have ever done because it's pretty out there.  If not, I'm sure I will come up with a good close to this whole thing.  I hope.  I mentioned once before, I'm not a big talker.  If I put it out there, I have to live up to it.  I just put it out there for myself.  Time to deliver.

Wish me luck.

Day 84 of The 365 Day Experiment. Music Unites.

I sat on my deck today, soaking up the sunlight and enjoying some downtime playing my guitar and learning a new song.  My daughter caught a picture of me and it was me at my most relaxed.  I love music.  

I love the immediate change in emotion it stirs when a great song comes on the radio from my past.  I still get a smile when I hear an REO Speedwagon song from 7th grade because it reminds me of my best childhood girlfriend.  I can’t hear Stairway to Heaven without thinking of every middle school dance - it was the song that ended every night.  And when I here anything by Pearl Jam, even though I saw them multiple times, I immediately think of an incredible night seeing them at Madison Sq. Garden with a great group of friends.  

That universal power that connects each of us to music is astonishing, even if you aren’t a huge fan.   I remember my first trip to Paris, being nervous only speaking my middle school French.  And yet as I stepped into a square, I was greeted by a large crowd of French teens singing Beatles songs.  I was astonished.  They knew every English word.  And we stopped to sing along with them, immediately accepted.    It was both a memorable and amazing experience of being connected.  

Recently I shared a musical moment with a friend.  We were hanging out at a dive bar, ending the evening.  We had been chatting all night and then a song that was apparently a favorite of both of ours came on.  And in that moment, we got up and chose to dance like we were back in high school, the only people in the bar to do so.  And it didn’t matter.  It was a perfect song was marked with a perfect moment.  And I’m betting it’s now another one now burned into my memory. 

And tonight, as I was settling down to write about about this connection we all share with music, I noticed a post from a friend.  It shared the beauty of music enjoyed by the poorest of children in South America.  I watched this video with my 10 year old daughter and my heart was full.  These children have so little in terms of material goods, but their life is rich in music.  I hope it inspires you as it did us.

http://www.upworthy.com/watch-the-first-54-seconds-that-s-all-i-ask-you-ll-be-hooked-after-that-i-swear

Day 83 of The 365 Day Experiment. Everybody's Working For The Weekend.

And now that it’s here, I’ve got NO plans.  And that’s exactly how I like it.

My calendar during the week is an exercise in insanity.  I am scheduled from typically straight through from 9 to 5, with zero breaks.  I get in early for a chance to get some actual work done before the chaos begins.  And I get a small thrill when a meeting is cancelled or ends early.  It gives me a  quick break to catch up with a co-worker or run to the bathroom.

So I try to approach my weekends like I do my vacations.  Here’s how it works for me, and how I keep my sanity.  If you know me you may question that, but I think it works.

Having at least one thing to look forward to.  Whether its a escape with my kids or a date or drinks with a friend, I always make sure I’ve got something going on I can count on to make me feel like it’s going to put a smile on my face.

Living in the moment.  By not planning my weekend like my work days, I have open spaces to do things on a whim.  Last weekend, I was able to go meet a friend for drinks in Boston with an hour’s notice.  Turned out to be one of the best nights I’ve had in a very long time.

Embracing the art of outsourcing.  I was the last person on my street to suck it up and get a person to clean my house.  Best investment I ever made.  Once I got over the guilt of paying someone for something I was capable of doing myself, I have far more free time.  I’d way rather be hanging with my girls doing something fun than scrubbing a toilet in my few precious weekend hours.  Same goes for grocery shopping…everything gets ordered online and delivered Sunday mornings now.

I push myself to learn something.  Whether it’s watching a TED talk, reading an article or attending something I’ve never seen before, I love feeling like I’m learning something new.  I soak in new information like a sponge, and draw connections to all of it into my everyday life.  It’s how I stay feeling challenged, relevant and moving forward.

Movement is critical.  I try hard to exercise during the week, but somedays it happens and some days it doesn’t.  On the weekend, there are no excuses.  It’s time to reinvest in my health and spirit.  Plus, a girl’s got to keep fitting in those skinny jeans.

Touching base with those who are important.  The weekend typically offers me the downtime to connect with my family and friends in a more casual way, rather than a quick drive by call on the way home from work or between meetings. I love being able to grab a drink on a Friday night or longer phone call if we can’t see each other. So much nicer than texting “how are things going?"

 I spend time in the kitchen. My kitchen is the soul of my home.  There are many things I miss about being married, but not having anyone to cook for is a biggie.  Ironic that my kids won’t eat most of what I make nor will I.  But I love the art of cooking and baking.  So when I have the time, I’ll make things for the upcoming week or special favorites for my kids that I could never pull off after a work day.  

I work.  As much as I hate to admit this, it’s a part of life. There’s no way I could get my job done if I didn’t take a little time to crank out some priority items when I have the quiet time.  I attempt never to work on Saturdays; Sundays only.  And only when the kids are occupied with something so they don’t feel like I am taking time away from them.

I plan.  Once the work is done, I take a look at my week ahead.  I get organized on any kid-related coordination, I get the kids set with their schedules and needs.  I look at my work calendar and make sure I’ve budgeted time for the highest priority items to get addressed during the day so I don’t have to work every night (this is well intentioned, and doesn’t always work.)  When I shut my computer down, I feel completely ready for what lies ahead Monday morning. 

I write.  This is obviously a new one, as I’m still less than 3 months into this experiment.  And yet it’s become a habit.  During the week, it’s one I have typically got to jam every night before I go to bed.  I rarely have a topic in mind before I sit down, so I sometimes struggle to get creative on demand.  On the weekend, I am much more in the flow.  I am able to ponder a bit, and really think about what I want to say.  Not that it ultimately makes a damn bit of difference.  I’ve never claimed to be a writer or any good at this.  But the ability to take the time to think is valuable to me.

I smile.  During the week I’m hit with the “stuff."  The tiny nicks that eat away at my soul sometimes.  This year has been particularly challenging for me, for all obvious reasons.  And yet, I wake up Saturday morning with a smile.   I have a beautiful home I wake up in.  My kids are happy and healthy.  I have help from a nanny who couldn’t love my kids any more if she tried and offers me tremendous piece of mind.  I have a job I love, people in my life I care about, and food in my fridge.  And sometimes, I have some kick ass plans to look forward to.  All in all, I’ve got a pretty good life.

So I think I’m going to just curl up on my sofa with a magazine tonight and soak it up.  I had a fantastic day.  And I’m going to carry that right on over into a fantastic weekend…even though I have no idea what I’m doing yet.  Maybe I’ll tackle what community service project I want to involve myself with next…that’s of huge import to me, and has been missing for a while.  

Day 82 of The 365 Day Experiment. Mistakes, Many. Regrets, None.

Early on when I started this experiment, someone suggested I tackle the topic of regret.  It’s taken me several weeks to really figure out where I stand on this.  And now I have.

If I look back at my life, the number of mistakes I have made is countless.  But I don’t regret any of them.  I think I’m a good person with a solid character.  But I’m human.  I’m fallible.  I believe I have a kind heart, and I don’t actively attempt to hurt people nor do I believe in revenge or spite.  I do, however, believe in living this one life I have to its max.  And sometimes, I make stupid mistakes.  But I’m okay with that, because I rarely make the same mistake twice.

I’ve lived a bold life, where I am comfortable pushing boundaries and seeing what is possible on the other side of the proverbial open door.  It’s usually worked out well for me.  And that’s probably because I’m both comfortable with the consequence if it doesn’t, and because I’m willing to ask for forgiveness.  But at the end of the day, it’s critical for my personal happiness to feel like I’m always moving forward.  And if I am, I can live with some bad choices and mistakes along the way.  It’s all part of the growth process.

To be someone who is always pushing herself to grow, to learn, to develop, I have had to embrace the concept of making mistakes.  Without them, I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t have had the career I’ve had, the crazy life experiences I’ve had, or frankly experienced anything I consider truly worthwhile.  Granted, I’ve made some fantastic choices along the way too,  and I am grateful for those.  But it is through those mistakes that those biggest learnings have come.

I’m a better parent.  I’m a better leader.  I’m a better friend.  I’m a better cook.  I’m a better drinker.  I’m a better financier.  I’m a better planner.  I’m a better daughter.  I’m a better listener.  I’m a better skier.  I’m a better dresser.  And I know I’m going to be a better partner someday.

So no.  I have made many mistakes, but I have no regrets.

Day 81 of The 365 Day Experiment. Asking Forgiveness, Not Permission.

"Ask for forgiveness, not permission." This is something I say to every new hire that enters the door of our company.  In some contexts, it might be considered obnoxious.  For example, if my daughter borrowed money out of my wallet for a shopping trip out with her friends without asking permission first, but then asked for forgiveness, I’d be upset.  That’s just rude.  

But depending on the context, this can be an incredibly empowering statement.  It essentially is telling someone, “I would rather you go too far than do too little." You are placing a higher value on moving swiftly with the potential to make a mistake that requires potential forgiveness than delaying something to stop and ask for permissions along the way.

Rather than get mired in unnecessary bureaucracy, when we use that expression, we mean push forward.  Find a way to get done what you need to.  Even if you need to bend a few rules to do it. 

When I say this to people, it means I trust your judgment.  It means I trust you to make good decisions.  And if you make a mistake, you’ll own it, ask for forgiveness and learn from it.  And then you’ll dust yourself off and move on.

From where I sit, it’s a really important phase. It’s how we move things forward, especially in a hyper-growth company like the one I work in.  There is so much work that needs to get done, and so much opportunity for all us to pitch in and help.  When someone has the confidence and ability to act quickly and risk making a mistake, you are also setting up an environment for learning.  Without error, there is no growth and development.  

When you are in a culture that supports this, consider it a compliment and a testament to your ability to drive and get things done.  You have been essentially been given a pass to plow through the roadblocks and BS instead of stopping for every obstacle in your path.  And if you unsure, test the boundaries a little at first.  You may be very pleasantly surprised.

I have been really fortunate to have been afforded some ridiculous opportunities in my career at periods of my life when I was frankly far too green or prepared to take them.  And I have spent 20 years paying forward that same opportunity mindset to my teams that was afforded to me.  But it all started with my ability to ask for forgiveness, not for permission.

So take a deep breath, summon your courage and dive in.  I’ll bet you can do whatever it is you think you are capable of pulling off but are struggling to accomplish because you are hitting roadblocks.  Figure out your way around them, even if it’s slightly unconventional.  

And if you think you are probably pushing it a little too far, you probably are.  So just be smart…

Day 80 of The 365 Day Experiment. Back When I Was A Kid...

Warning, I'm about to sound really old.  

So many things have changed for the better since I was a kid.  And so many things haven't. 

When I was a kid, there were no car seats.  We rode around in the "way back" of my mother's tank of a gold Catalina Safari station wagon, with the window down, waving at cars behind us, and playing games to entertain ourselves rather than tuning out and watching videos on built in DVD players.  And it was really fun.

When I was a kid, there was bullying.  There was a bitch of a girl named Nancy who used to threaten to beat me up on a daily basis because she liked the boy who liked me.  She scared the crap out of me for the better part of a year.  She was literally a foot taller than me, and outweighed me by 50 pounds.  And I had to learn how to stand up for myself.  And she never touched me. 

When I was a kid, parents didn't talk much about sex, drugs or alcohol.  So we kind of taught ourselves.  And that probably wasn't the best thing because I was kind of a precocious kid.  I am already all over that with my kids.

When I was kid, kids were far less programmed with their activities.  Summers were spent playing with friends and returning home when it was dinner time. You would hang out in groups and entertain yourself with creative games and improvised materials.  Now we resort to structured play dates, camps and schedules and expensive gear.

When I was a kid, there were neighbors.  Neighbors looked out for each other, had each other's backs and looked after one another's children.  Now most of my neighbors barely see each other.  Maybe a small wave if they drive by.

When I was a kid, many grandparents were racist.  You'd hear horrifying things come out of their mouths and know it wasn't right, but weren't sure how to correct them.  Now you'll hear your kids warmly talk about their friend's two moms with no clue this would have ever been considered anything but normal.

When I was a kid, parents would announce a family vacation or what was for dinner as a statement.  Today, input is often solicited from the entire family.  Children play a far more integral role in the decision making process.

When I was a kid, a child had a childhood.  You didn't start stressing about what sport or grades would be acceptable for colleges when she was 10. Today, our children have far more pressure put on them, both by society and by their parents, then we ever did.

It's a delicate balance.  We all want the best for our children.  We have the rest of our lives to achieve and stress.  Childhood, especially during the summer, is a gift.  And I hope my kids are enjoying to the max.  Because I'm doing my very to enjoy it with them...after I make sure they have buckled up in the car.

Day 79 of The 365 Day Experiment. Can Someone Get Me A Band-Aid? This Is Pretty Raw.

Today’s offsite with my Executive team colleagues started off with a bang. Great work was done, and I was once again reassured that this collection of people is not just a solid mix of talent, but a true team capable of leading an exceptional company to do extraordinary things.  Of course, we’ve got a lot of work ahead of us to pull that minor miracle off, but I am in the trenches with this crew.  I have faith in them.  In us.

We spent most of our time together back at the office tackling tough decisions and problems.  Today’s discussions were centered more about us as people.  Learning about each other’s histories, and what has shaped us as leaders.  It was fascinating to learn more deeply about each person’s back story.  Though I know most people fairly well, I gained new insight into almost everyone.  It was a fantastic exercise.

And through that sharing, additional trust was built with one another.  Enough so that as we eased into dinner conversation we could discuss with candor funny stories of our pasts and continue to let our guards down about our lives.

And as the dinner came to a close, we went around the table circling back to a topic that had been raised earlier in the morning.  "What role do you think you’ll be playing in the next five years?"  Someone asked me if Rapid7 had an “event," would I go into retirement again.  I paused.  And then as I started to speak, I had to pause again.  For a long time.  I had to fight back tears in front of 8 of my colleagues.  And I knew that they could all read my mind.

In that moment, I felt incredibly naked.  I couldn’t find the words, and then finally choked them out.  I said something to the extent of, “For the first time ever, I have to think about my next gig.  I have to think about supporting my girls and I long term.  And it’s really lucky I love what I do."

I didn’t speak again as everyone else took their turn.  I had to fight back those tears the entire time, and fortunately held it together.  And then as everyone stood to go head to the bar for a final drink, I peeled off from the crowd.  Because I could not hold it in any longer.  The weight of that admission, and that reality, hit me like a ton of bricks.  I am a single mom responsible for supporting myself for the rest of my life.  And that’s a scary f’ing thing.

I was already past understanding that there was no longer a partner in my life to bounce ideas off of when I got home, or just share the conversation of everyday life.  I had become used to eating alone at night, if I remembered to eat at all, after I had tended to all the girls’ needs.  I had even gotten used to sleeping alone, which is one of the worst parts.  But knowing that financially I’m in it alone too, that’s a tough one.  Especially when that’s not one of my core strengths.

I’m smart, I’m responsible, and I know I’ll figure it out, because I always do.  I’m not the first mom to be in this situation, and I sure won’t be the last.  I’m grateful I have a fantastic job that I am paid well for and that I’ve had success in.  And now I just need to keep my winning streak alive…cause it looks like I’ll be at this a little bit longer than expected.

Day 78 of The 365 Day Experiment. Clowns Are Not My Friend.

I'm headed to an offsite with our Executive Team tomorrow, and one of the pre-activities we were asked to prepare was a "journey line."  Essentially, it is a map of your historical experiences, events and people that have shaped your life.  I took a professional approach to mine, but added some elements of humor and my personality to make it feel a little more "me" than just bullet pointing out the highlights.  I figured if I had to kill some time on a Sunday doing work, I might as well make it interesting for myself.

That said, it also conjured up some pretty entertaining memories that have surfaced over the past few weeks that had no place on this "journey line," but that find a perfect home here. I'll share one tonight.  No one may find this amusing but me, but given this is written by me, for me, I am going to let it rip. I don't like clowns. 

I really can't stand them.  I know this isn't uncommon, but I have tried for years to understand why I have such discomfort around them in the first place.  I mean, I like to face my fears head on.  So, for example, I have two vintage Italian clown posters hanging in my home, but since they don't look like Ronald McDonald, they don't really freak me out. And when I briefly had a small business hand painting custom kids furniture, I tried for weeks to find a clever name for it.  I couldn't...so I settled on "Pinkloomps and Poochie."  Those where my two imaginary friends when I was four.  And they were pink and purple clowns.  But they were really nice from what I can remember, so I don't think they were the start of my issue.  And then, over drinks with a friend recently, it came to me.

Some one was asking me about being a gymnast when I was a kid.  He had asked about the process for learning about  how do a flip.    I was explaining how I had learned both inside and outside of the gym.  Inside, there is a whole set of steps you go through leading up to the actual act itself.  Outside of the gym, my mother found this really unorthodox method she thought would provide additional help.  She sent me to...wait for it...a clown.

This guy had been a former clown with the Ringling Brothers Circus.  He lived in the next town over from us.  She drove me to his house in the woods of Lincoln, and we walked down a path to a clearing to find a trampoline, a bunch of harnesses, and a slew of other equipment.  In retrospect, I am surprised he didn't greet us with "She puts the lotion in the basket."  I KNEW there was something wrong with this situation. A clown in the woods with a harness should have screamed "pedophile" to my mother, but it do not.  And nothing happened except my mom leaving me there with the clown,  being harnessed up and doing about 150 flips before she returned.  I refused to go back. 

He wasn't wearing clown makeup, he didn't do anything inappropriate, and perhaps he was a completely lovely man.  But as a 10 year old kid, harnessed up and alone in the woods with that guy, I was completely freaked out.

And THAT is why I don't like clowns.

Day 77 of the 365 Day Experiment. Is It Me, Or Is Everyone A Little Vulnerable?

An old friend of mine who has been kind enough to be following this “experiment" wrote to me today and asked if I had heard of a researcher by the name of Brene Brown. I hadn’t. He sent me a link to her TED talk on vulnerability and suggested I would find it “mind blowing." There aren’t too many things I would suggest get that strong a reaction from me, but I’ll admit, this was pretty damn good.

I assume he thought it would resonate with me for two reasons. For one, the content of her topic of discussion. Vulnerability. Until he put it right there in front of my face, I hadn’t thought about how vulnerable I had made myself by doing this so-called experiment. I mean, conceptually I guess I did. But vulnerability is not a word I’ve historically attached to myself. In fact, for me, vulnerability equaled weakness, and therefore, just plain bad.  And yet over the past year, it’s probably the biggest adjective I could use to define myself.  

He probably also thought I might connect because of the very nature of how she conveys her message.  She's a researcher, but effectively, she's a storyteller.  She shares her message about her research on vulnerability, and learning about her own as a result, in a deeply personal way.  I have obviously taken on a different medium to share, but I am doing the same thing.  

At the outset, I thought I was testing myself to see if I could stretch myself to force personal growth by becoming a little more extroverted by sharing.  Instead, what I've really done is effectively show everyone how truly vulnerable I am.

We are all vulnerable as human beings.  Some of us just hide it better than others.  I thought I was hiding it for years.  And yet, at the core of it, we all need to have our own sense of belonging, of purpose, of relevance.   Layer on top of that the need to be desired and loved by another.  To not want that is to not be alive.  Our ability to be vulnerable allows us to show we are alive; that we exist. 

I'm not sure why it took me 45 years to figure this out.  I don't know what I thought I was protecting, or why I associated vulnerability with weakness. I won't lie and tell you it's been an easy thing to do.  But I will share this - since allowing myself to be truly vulnerable over the past year, I have grown more personally than I have in the last decide.

That is a true gift.

Brene Brown's 20 minute TED video is below if you are interested.

http://www.ted.com/talks/brene_brown_on_vulnerability.html

Day 76 of The 365 Day Experiment. Finding Your Authentic Self.

A friend just sent me an article from Wired magazine featuring a fantastic article about one of our old co-workers.  She is an incredibly talented woman who’s also a single mom and has an amazing job at Google.  The role she plays there is really impressive.  The person she describes herself to be is even more impressive.  The piece spent a good portion describing how she is successful because she is her “authentic self."

I am not fond of that expression, as it has become overused in business as have the oft-used words of late like “pivot" and “deep dive" lately.  But regardless of what words you use, the concept is still an important one.

Consider it for yourself.  Are you living a life that is in sync with who you truly believe yourself to be (your authentic self), or are you living a more fabricated view of yourself?

How does one answer the question WHO ARE YOU?  I could answer “I’m a mom."  Or, “I’m a start up junkie, " or “I’m a Bostonian."  or “I’m an {insert any other label}."  Often, the answer is the function we play in life.  We can’t truly answer, because sometimes we just truly don’t know.

So if you really dig deep into your “authentic self"," you consider who you are in your soul.  It has nothing to do with your job or what role you play in life.  Rather, it’s the amalgamation of all of the things that make you YOU.  For example I might work with two other women on my executive team and we could all identify ourselves by saying “We are all hard driving executives and mothers."  But what a short sided story that would be.  Each of us has unique skills and talents inside and outside of work, and ultimately express ourselves incredibly differently.  We are, in essence, pretty different from one another.

I’ve been thinking about this a lot in both personal and work contexts as of late.  At work, we have used a tool in our hiring process called the Predictive Index.  While it is not the be-all, end-all, and we don’t use it to screen people in or out, it’s remarkably accurate.  By checking off boxes in a total of 86 categories, you select words that you believe describe your “self,"  and then again in the category of “self concept."  In essence, you are choosing how you really see yourself in the first category.  In the second, you are checking off exactly the same words, but this time you are selecting the words that coincide with how you believe others expect you to behave.  Together, it provides a synthesis of your observable behavior in the workplace.

I would suggest that if you work in a company that you are happy and thriving in, likely one that is a good culture fit for you, your self and your self concept are pretty similar.  If you are not acting as your “authentic self" at work, perhaps you are feeling a sense of tension or stress.  I spent some time with someone this week who described himself as “completely different" outside the office.  I know him in both situations. And it leaves me thinking, which is truly the real person?  When someone changes that radically, it makes you question who they really are.  Or even which person they are happiest being.  Of course I’m not suggesting the subtle nuances of being professional in the office, laid back outside.  I’m talking about those who effectively become an unrecognizable person from situation to situation.

In my personal life I see the same thing wIth both women and men.  It’s interesting to me that some of my female friends have lost sight of who they are beyond the “I’m a wife and mother" when they gave up their paid jobs.  There is no judgment in that statement, and the same thing happened to me.  It took me quite a while to get back to what was truly important to me.  I can only speak for myself, but it occurs to me when you become part of a family “pod," you form a little tribe of your own.  You spend so much time as part of that unit, and trying to keep everyone happy and nurtured, it’s easy to  forget who you are along the way.  Ultimately, I’m certain that contributed to the demise of my marriage.  That old adage “happy wife, happy life"…after a period of time,  this wife forgot who she was, and she become unhappy.  And she needed to get that back.  Thankfully, she's well on her way now.

Alternatively, I know men struggle with this as well.  I have heard far too often from my married male friends how miserable they are because they aren’t happy at home.  My question is always, “why don’t you do something about it?"  I can’t fathom why they won’t try to better the situation with communicating with their wives.  Apparently complacency trumps having your wife pissed off at you for sharing how you feel.  I don’t quite get that.  Candidly, I think that’s why men cheat.  They can’t communicate how they feel, so they get fed up and find what they need elsewhere.  (and yes, I realize women do the same thing.)

The self-awareness piece of this I find incredible.  I know someone who is so misaligned with his how he sees himself vs. how others see him, it’s almost maddening.  It’s one thing when you just want to avoid pursuing the person you want to be, or optimizing the life you really want to live.  It’s quite another when your perception of yourself is so different than the one everyone around you has of you.  Let’s say, for example, I think I’m the life of the party.  I start branding myself that way.  I create a persona around that.  Perhaps I even give myself a supercool nickname I now want people to call me.  That would be awesome. Or is it?  It would be awesome if I was self aware enough to know people didn’t buy it.   But I don’t understand why they don’t.  So I keep pushing, and I am alienating people and I don’t understand why.  In my mind, I’m being my authentic self, but it’s not landing.  What am I to do?

I don’t have a great answer, because I think it’s a fine line.  I honestly believe it’s important for everyone to be true to themselves.  But we need to partner that with a healthy dose of self-awarenss, and understanding our audience.  According to my PI, I am self confident, I like collaboration, and I don’t like rules.  It’s a good thing I am in a career that allows me to create and establish the culture of companies largely which supports my own personality.  As a result, my PI indicates that my self and self concept are almost identical.  That’s great news for me - that essentially means I am acting the way at work in the way that I truly see myself.  If those things were massively out of whack, I’m certain I’d have a really difficult time getting up everyday.  In essence, if I had to wear formal work clothes and work in a really corporate environment everyday that was really sterile, I would be really miserable.  It would be out of whack with who I am, or my “authentic work self."

And in real life, I’m constantly trying to ensure that I am balancing work and mom with really important things in my life that define the core of me.  I think for a long time I forgot how important that was, and I put that last.  It’s kind of refreshing to have a bit of breathing room to reflect on what is important to me, what truly makes me happy, and ultimately what makes me “authentically Christina."

Day 75 of the 365 Day Experiment. Small Gifts.

I am having a tough week.  My kids are away with their dad for the first time for a whole week.  They are having an blast with him, but I am grateful of the distraction of work and friends to keep me busy.  While I know I should be whooping it up and taking full advantage of the quiet time, I feel like a part of me is missing.  I am grateful I have no problem keeping myself busy, and that I know they will be home in just a few short days.

And like what typically happens when you have a grey day, you can always find a bright spot if you look hard.  I got not one, but two, today.

I take my job pretty seriously. I come each day, and give it everything I’ve got.  And yet, as a told a friend last night at dinner, I’ve been at this a long time.  Same types of environments, hyper-growth, start up to adolescent to event.  Rinse and repeat.  I know the trends, and I know what to expect.  And while I know I’m pretty good at what I do, I never really sit around thinking about the impact I may or may not make.  I do from an overall company perspective.  If I don’t, I lose my job.  I mean from a personal, employee perspective.

A few weeks ago, on Day 23, (The Doctor Is In), I wrote about being much like a counselor at work.  It’s one of the parts of the job I cherish.  For me, it’s the benefit of working at a small company.  I can still engage with people at a one on one level.  If they ask, I will connect with them and help them to dig deep to find the best in themselves to maximize their potential. But once those conversations are over, I go back to my business.  It never occurs to me that that’s actually meaningful to them.

Today, I was reminded sometimes, it is.  My day started with a woman I really respect interrupting a project I needed to complete to chat.  I gladly dropped it, because I always find her engaging.  She is the one who called me “brutally honest" a few weeks ago.  She wanted to explain in more detail.  She went on to share what that brutal feedback had meant to her.  While the feedback was direct, and rather painful to here, I am the only one, outside of her dad and sister who would dare to be so candid with her.  And it really helped her to get to a completely different place in her head and ultimately her career.  I had given her a gift.   In turn, she had given me a gift.  She made me feel like I actually added some value doing what I do.

Zoom ahead a few hours.  As I rushed from meeting to meeting, I stopped at my office to grab a bottle of water.  And on my desk I found a beautiful orchid with a letter.  The letter was an incredibly heartfelt letter written by a young co-worker who I had hired two and a half years before.  His team has had a number of bumps over the past year, and he and I have had a number of conversations involving me trying to encourage him.  He’s smart and talented, and I saw the light at the end of the tunnel before he did.  And he trusted me.  And today he thanked me for encouraging him to believe.  

I stood at my desk with tears running down my face.  

It’s rare to find a job that you love.  I’ve not just found a job, I have found a career I have cherished for 20 years.  Some days it’s really tough, and some days it is amazing.  And for days like today, it’s just plain humbling to know maybe, just maybe, I’ve made an impact.

 

Day 74 of The 365 Day Experiment. Everyone Is NOT A Winner.

A friend sent me an article from Psychology Today last night and it really struck a nerve. Essentially it made the claim that when the parenting movement shifted to focusing more on building the self-esteem of their children, they went way overboard. As a result, they created an environment of “everyone is beautiful, everyone is talented, everyone is a winner." Guess what? They aren’t.

I see the ramifications of this on a daily basis. When my kids were on soccer teams a few years ago, they weren’t allowed to keep score. The goal was not to create a competitive environment for the children - it was designed just for fun. At the end of the season, everyone got a medal…even though my daughter’s team completely sucked. Why? Because everyone’s a winner. My daughter, about 6 at the time, even thought this was ridiculous. Why would they get a medal if they had won roughly two games all season?

And then consider school grades.  When we were kids, we had A, B, C, D, F.  Work your tush off, see that hard work pay off with great grades.  Don’t study, get an F.  Now, those grades, at least in our school district, don’t begin until middle school.  All through elementary school, kids get “meets expectations" or “needs improvement."  What the hell kind of direction is that?  

Zoom ahead to the work world. The sense of entitlement that was built from that early childhood over-inflated self-esteem is ever present with many of today’s twenty-something’s. Of course, not all of them. But consider this tiny anecdote.  I worked with someone in recent life who literally wanted to have it all. Work part time AND raise a family AND rise to an executive level in a hyper-growth environment. That would be tough for even the most seasoned person to juggle and pull off. But a junior person who hasn’t yet paid any of the dues yet to be able to pull that off? That stuff astounds me. But again, it shouldn’t. Nothing should surprise me.

But the all time topper came from an example at one of my old companies. I got a call from the mother of one of our employees. She was upset because her son had not been promoted, and she thought he was being overlooked. It’s hard to be professional in those moments. I can’t remember exactly what I said, but it had something to do with the fact that if you need your mommy has to fight your battles for you, you are probably not ready for a promotion or leadership opportunity of any kind. In the aftermath, that kid swore he had no idea his mom was going to call; he was mortified. But ultimately, the damage was done.

Yes, there are those few brilliant whiz kids who skip out of college and build the next great disruptive thing. Mark Zuckerberg from Facebook and David Karp at Tumblr are rare example.  While its an amazing gift these people have, not every dork with a keyboard is going to build the next Apple. Just as not every kid with a guitar is going to become the next John Meyer. But when parents tell you, “You are brilliant. You are perfect. You can do anything," that’s a bit of a slippery slope.

There is a very fine line between encouraging your kids to bring out their best, and building an unrealistic bubble around them. As someone who is responsible for ultimately humbling those same kids once they get into “the real working world," I can say with conviction that you aren’t doing them any favors by going overboard. Just as we can’t protect them from ever getting their hearts broken, we can’t protect them from failing either.  In fact, we should encourage a little bit of it.

Failure teaches us incredible lessons.  Without failure, how do we truly learn?  We need to take risks to move forward in life, and put ourselves out there a bit to continue growing.  And if we buffer our kids from that how do they ever build the confidence to push themselves out of their comfort zones?  Or handle failure when it inevitably happens?

Day 73 of The 365 Day Experiment. Death Row Meal.

I was listening to the radio this morning on my way to work, and someone made a reference to being in prison. Which got me thinking…

I’ve always been notorious for throwing out random questions in large groups like, “If you could be an animal, what would you be?" Or “If you got stuck on a desert island, what is one thing would you bring?" They are usually thrown out when a conversation lulls, and typically provides a light, fun way for people to get better understanding of each other. But one of my recent favorites is “If you were on death row, what would your last meal be?"  For some reason, I assumed people would just name their favorite food…but it the question ended up revealing way more about how people really think.

A plethora of people pointed out that calories or health be damned…a lifetime of dieting could go out the window.  They would indulge and have every glutenous item they have been avoiding because it just didn’t matter anymore.

Some people chose all the comfort foods of their childhood, pointing out that the thought of impending death would be so traumatic, anything that could bring a feeling of comfort and happiness would be welcome at that point in time.

A large number of people carefully selected their favorite meal.  They were very specific about a restaurant they would want it catered by, or individual they wanted to prepare it, right down to the piece of steak, or side dish.

And then there were the really offbeat answers.  My personal favorite belongs to one of my best friends.  He is allergic to shellfish.  He choose that as his last meal.  His reasoning was simple.  F them.  "I’m going to take myself out before they can kill me."  I love the defiance in that.  And to know him, that is such a perfect answer.

As for me, I chose something oddly strange as well.  I passed on the meal.  If I knew someone was going to kill me, the last thing I think I’d want to do is choke down a meal before that happened.  So I’d rather skip it all together…and maybe just ask for a shot of vodka.  Or 3.  Because at that point, I wouldn’t care if the alcohol affected my headaches adversely anymore and I’d probably want to calm my nerves. But if I drank anymore than that and I got a stay of execution, the head pain I’d feel the next day as a result from drinking too much + my headache medication would be worse than not being dead.  And clearly, even in death I can’t catch a break on this.  And I’m obviously  over-thinking something that won’t happen.  But this is what happens when you ask these stupid questions sometimes.

It’s such a weird question.  But pause and think about it.  What would you chose?

Day 72 of The 365 Day Experiment. The Price of Privacy.

I guess it’s my own fault.  On Day 1, I admitted I was really private.  On the Myers Briggs scale, which many of us have taken at some point in our professional careers, I’m right on the border of Introvert/Extrovert.  This fascinates me.  Because if you really know me, while I might play extroverted at work, you get that I am a total introvert.  And today, On Day 73 of this experiment, I have realized the depth to which that introversion has cost me.

I haven’t shared a lot publicly about my life prior to this, and I realized I haven’t shared a lot privately either.  Things that are really important to me, I have never discussed with many people - even those closest to me.  And now those people are hearing some of this stuff for the first time through this writing.  What’s really scary about that is two fold.

For one, there is apparently a group of people questioning the authenticity of my stories.  They have either never heard them before, or they just don’t know me well.  I would like to think that over the years, even though I’ve been quiet,  I’ve never given people pause to question my integrity.

Want proof of the Mile High Dud story? I’ve got pictures on my cell phone of the Olympian and I, and his ring.

Want proof I was roofied in LA? Ask my brother and his old roommate.

But seriously? Questioning that Bob Geldof and Nelson Mandela influenced my life in some way? I guess I could offer you could look at my bookshelves at home or my music collection for some sort of tangible evidence…but I shouldn’t have to.  If for some reason you have reason to doubt that anything I’ve written isn’t my true feelings or truthful content, that’s on you, not me.  This whole project started as a way for a private person to find a way to express herself differently.  And I’ve quickly learned that for as much kind support and encouragement I’ve received, there has been just as much backlash and pushback.

Bottom line:  if you don’t like what you are reading, don’t read it.  If you doubt me, tell me to my face - don’t talk behind my back.  I have essentially gone from a life of wearing a snow parka to standing naked in a public forum.  And that’s on me.  I chose this.  And there was bound to be people who didn’t understand, didn’t support, didn’t get it.  But to call me “a liar" is really tough for me.  Candidly, it made me second guess this whole experiment and shut it down tonight.  But I committed to it, and I’ve still got 292 days left to go.  So I’m going to keep going.

I’ll keep going because I have received the most incredible insight tonight as a result of that really painful feedback.  Rather than being mad that a few random people who might think I’m making stuff up (seriously, why would I make up a story about Nelson Mandela? I still can’t get my head around that.)  I will view it as a tremendous insight.  Some people incredibly close to me had no clue about this stuff.  Was I really that insular that I never thought to share?  Or did they never think to ask?  Or a combination of the both?

Whatever the reason, it’s a valuable insight.  I think to really know someone, it’s important to know what matters to him/her. While I know some of my friends pretty well - very well in fact - there’s some deeper stuff I’d love to know more about.  Why?  Because at a gut level, I think we all want to be known and understood.