The subject that always comes up
One problem seems to be a perennial issue for myself and my clients: Doing something for yourself is so much harder than doing it for someone else.
Whether that be marketing, grant writing, graphic design, or any other expertise, we can all seem to use our talents for others much easier than we can for our own work.
It’s something I tried to address in my first-ever newsletter, and it has been on my mind for even longer. Unfortunately, I’m not here to report a breakthrough, but I am here to try to tease out an answer a little bit more.
I sit here writing wondering, how can I help us all get unstuck from that spot?
For my clients, a lot of the time I’m able to take a task on for them as much as they’ll let me (and that’s a big caveat). But when they are bullish on doing it themselves, I find myself suggesting all sorts of things. Just a few of the solutions I’ve tested out are:
Using project management software and breaking the task into smaller pieces with deadlines
Suggesting they try out the Pomodoro Technique for an hour of total work and see where they get
Having them work on the issue while I’m on the phone with them, there to answer questions or help them when they get blocked
These have all worked to varying degrees depending on the person. All are valid answers to the issue and ones that I’ve also employed for myself.
But, the more I think about it, I realize this block seems to come from a deeper place—doing work for ourselves can expose our soft underbelly when we put it out in the world, so much more than when you do it for others.
How is it more vulnerable than doing work for clients? For one, when I work on client projects, I’m often writing in their voice or an approximation of it, and I expect changes and feedback. Here, there is no other voice, only my own and I have to suddenly stand behind it more than ever before.
As I’ve mentioned before, Brene Brown teaches us that vulnerability is the key component to courage. But how do we work up that courage? I’ve written before about a few answers, having a village to support you chief among them (going back again, to my first newsletter).
As I sit here now, having written 28 of these newsletters, and turning 30 in under a month, I can’t say that I’ve solved this problem any further, but I have found that the best way to make that vulnerability less scary is practice.
The more I write, the better I get, and the prouder I am to share my work. Instead of hiding in fear of sharing my words, now I’m sharing them as widely as I can. That strength comes with time, too, as that thick skin so many talk about continues to develop.
Despite all of that, I’ve found in many ways, my writing has gotten more vulnerable in tone. I can only chalk that up to courage, and it’s something I’m thankful for, as I think it’s a key part of my voice.
So, no, I don’t have a solution or exact answer to how to help this problem. Instead, I suggest you dig deep, and try to find that inner spark of courage.
Lesson Learned: Some answers or solutions may remain out of reach, but the longer you work at something, the more strength and courage you build. You learn to let go of fear, and that’s all we can ask for.
