Putting Yourself First

Image by me (Fiona)
Story by me, based on an interview with Niki

Niki’s story had a real impact on me. It gave me a perspective I had not considered. And it changed my behaviour.

Niki’s story starts with her getting a beautiful new puppy recently. A German Shepherd called Lexi.

When Niki began socialising Lexi at a local park, she discovered many people were comfortable having their dogs off the lead, despite it not being a leash free area. But Niki was not.

When her daughter was about 7, she suffered a serious dog bite that required emergency surgery.  “And it was so intense that by the time I carried her from the car to emergency, they didn’t know if I needed help or she did because of the amount of blood loss. ‘Cause anything in the face is big, you know, and we didn’t realize at this stage that it had ripped her ear in half as well.”

Getting a new puppy, with her razor sharp teeth, triggered some fear. But it was going to the park with strange dogs running towards her that triggered post-traumatic stress.

But what made Niki really uncomfortable was having to ask strangers to change their behaviour to accommodate her needs.

“It is a really challenging thing to do because it’s going against what you normally believe about how you should behave or how you should act or things you should say. Because it’s about thinking about yourself. I needed to do this for me.”

Niki had to find the right way to tell her story as some people responded aggressively to her request.

“People just take it for granted that it’s OK to have their dogs off leads and one of the reasons that it is not is because accidents happen, and dogs do bite. And just because you’re comfortable and you know your dog, that’s great, and that’s fine in a leash free zone. But when it’s a park area with kids playing, and you let your dog run through, that’s really unfair to other people.”

Niki went on to talk about her reflections about her comfort zone as a result of having to ask others to please leash their dogs. “And I think the comfort zone thing is about understanding. The radius of comfort around you when you’re comfortable is quite big, but when there’s trauma or pain it is very tight. It took almost everything I had within me to articulate: I can’t cope, this is hurting. This is feeling really traumatic and then it made me think how many other times have I adjusted my radius or my comfort zone just to accommodate other people?”

The reason Niki was able to push through this time was because her daughter was also distressed by the situation, “because this meant so much to my daughter, I thought what a perfect thing to kick start for me that I need to start realizing I shouldn’t be adjusting my radius. I just need to find the right language to say this is at the end of my radius of comfort.”

I am personally really pleased to say that 9 out of 10 people responded well to Niki’s request to leash their dogs. Though I do wish it was 10!

One lesson Niki took from this experience is that it is ok to put yourself first! This was a huge lesson for her and has carried into all aspects of her life. “I was able to bring it into a work context. Someone made me feel uncomfortable in a work meeting and I was able to call it out. ‘I don’t know if you realize your passion is spilling across as aggression, so can you just clarify for me because it hit my radius [of comfort]?’”. The response she received was thanks – the person involved had not intended their passion to come across that way.

Niki has a special message to finish with today – she asked me to let all the other people who have shared their stories via this blog know that they touch people’s lives. It was reading all the stories that empowered Niki to speak up. And motivated her to share this story with you.

Thank you Niki!

My fight with lava

Words by Karen Tisdell – my guest blogger today
Photo by Vadim Sadovski on Unsplash

Tell me about your LinkedIn journey from the start to where you are now.

I was an early adopter of LinkedIn, using it as a recruiter. In 2009, I went on maternity leave. I was considered an ‘old’ mum at 35 but was desperate for children. My husband and I didn’t have a plan for when I’d go back to work, and it was a shock to him when, after just a few months, I was ready.

My husband’s mother is house-proud. She keeps her home spotless – it was what he grew up with. My husband was disappointed that polishing his shoes and vacuuming wasn’t what I lived for and even more appalled at the thought of putting our tiny baby (a delicate little thing that struggled with weight gain) into care.

My frustration grew until one day, I told the truth. I shared my struggles with a friend, confessing that I wasn’t satisfied with staying home. Her suggestion was to combine my aptitude for writing with my knowledge of LinkedIn. I’ve been a champion of the platform since the old days, seeing it as a place where you could pull clients to you and build mutually beneficially relationships.

I took her advice and set about getting clients.

Of course, like every good story, it wasn’t easy. My husband was reluctant. It would be unfair to call him unsupportive – he once spent a whole weekend building me a website. I didn’t have any say in the design and refused to use it. I wanted to pay for a professional site, but he wouldn’t hear it.

Our family was going through it, too. My husband travelled a lot and wasn’t able to be the most hands-on father and I didn’t make that any easier for him by wanting everything my way. I became pregnant three more times, miscarrying at 11 weeks and losing another baby at six months. It was a very difficult time.

The challenges didn’t take me away from my side business. They drew me in deeper. I had something that was all mine, and that kept me strong.

Now in hindsight, I can see that not having financial backing was a positive thing. I invested hours and hours on LinkedIn, learning, building relationships with people that could refer clients to me, and anything else that didn’t cost a cent. You know, that’s what I really love about LinkedIn. It’s equitable – an even playing field. People like me have the same space as Richard Branson. There’s so much power in that. I’m proof of it.

Fast-forward to today, and I am now one of the few people who write LinkedIn profiles in Australia – even the world. The others are marketing people that dabble in LinkedIn or career coaches that think a profile is like a resume – which it absolutely isn’t!

I’ve earned an excellent reputation as a LinkedIn profile writer. It’s my specialty. I am also a sought-after LinkedIn trainer and speaker. I’m not turning over millions, but I’m doing well. I’ve held on to my family (my husband and I are happier than ever) and grown my business.

When did you realise your business had the potential to go full time?

I love being a mum, and I didn’t want a rigid nine-to-five. My work had to fit around my children – not the other way around. My business has never been full- or part-time, rather anytime and all the time!

Early on, I planned around those 20 minutes my daughters were napping. I’d work with razor-sharp focus, turning the whole world off. It’s a skill I’m grateful for today.

When my kids were toddlers, I’d take them to play cafes, the ones with ball pits and playgrounds. They’d wear themselves out, and I’d be pounding away on the keyboard. I’d even meet clients there, something that was perhaps a little weird for them. You can hardly hear yourself think in those places, but I learnt to tune it all out – except for the sound of my children crying.

I even gave up watching TV. I wanted to go to bed at the same time as my children so I could wake up at 4.30 am and work. You’ve got to give up some things – I touch on that more HERE. This was hard on my husband. He likes staying up late and sleeping in. We barely saw each other for years. Our lives have changed a lot since COVID, and while it has been so devastating for so many, I’ve loved having my husband home during the day.

My mother-in-law would also come and stay for about one week out of the year. I plan around this, cram my diary full, and meet as many clients as possible. I didn’t send my kids to daycare for years. It really taught me the value of time.

My hours have grown alongside my daughters’ independence, although I draw the line at meeting clients outside of school hours. I’ve done the math, and I clock about 45.5 hours per week: an hour in the morning while the girls are asleep, six while they are at school, an hour in the evening while supervising homework or in the car while they are at music lessons, and on the weekend, two hours while they are at golf, one while at swimming, one and a half while at tennis, and one precious hour before the house wakes up on Sunday.

It may sound like a busy schedule and I have a lot of time for friends. But I love what I do almost to a fault. And to contextualise, I don’t write profiles every hour of my working week. I’m also responding to questions, crafting content, sending invitations to connect, being a guest on podcasts, or writing for others’ publications. It’s all good stuff – except accounts.

There’s not a bone in my body passionate about the accounts. Money isn’t my main focus, though I am proud to bring in what I do. I’m motivated more by a compulsion to give, to help others, even those that can’t afford my services. It’s almost addictive, and maybe that’s not healthy. But aside from gardening with a podcast or camping beachside with my family (UNO, boogie boarding, long walks, campfires, marshmallows, and burnt sausages – bliss), there are few things I’d rather do.

What mistakes did you make in the early days of your entrepreneurial journey?

When I had a bit of money to spend, I spent it all wrong. I should have invested in a website, but instead, I paid for prettily designed brochures, with comp slips and branded Christmas cards. I wanted to be a high-touch business, so I went all out: expensive paper, raised fonts, the whole wedding invitation shebang. Now I know better. Paper is antiquated. How ridiculous for me to think I needed it. It was only recently I tossed them into the recycling bin.

Another big mistake: trying to be all things to all people. I’m a recovering people pleaser, and I did whatever I could to make my clients happy. I often suffered scope-creep as I gave away far more time than I got paid for.

Pricing was another big one. I researched what part-timers in the suburbs earned and tried to pay myself that amount. Tried. In truth, I was grateful for any money at all. $15/hour. For the first eight years or so, I was blinded by my genuine LOVE for writing profiles. Even as a kid, I wanted to write peoples’ life stories – not as a biographer but an autobiographer. I wanted to be them, live through them. I love the dramatic arts but am a terrible over-actor. Profiles allow me to step into people’s worlds, if only for a few hours.

Anyway, the short of it is, getting paid felt wrong. My husband showed me the value of my work and my time. He was resentful of my business. He thought I was spending too much time on something that contributed so little financially to our family. I finally listened to him, and it saved both my business and my marriage.

What are the key components to your success?

Number one: I am extremely resilient. Tenacious. I don’t give up.

I’m also serious about my habits and routines. Time is precious to me and I’m careful how I spend each and every hour.

Finally, I am willing to listen to others. I’ve learnt so much from my clients, who have shared business advice with me over the years. I do wish I’d listened to my husband earlier. It took too long for me to understand his perspective. I’m glad I didn’t lose him because of my myopic vision and love of what I do.

What are three top tips that you would share with someone starting out on their own entrepreneurial journey?

One: develop great habits. Work practices can reduce decision fatigue, making your life easier. Be sure to regularly assess if your routines are effective.

Two: be grateful – but not too grateful. I think what stopped me from valuing my time (and charging accordingly) was an excess of gratitude. I was so thankful to every client, for every dollar. Gratitude is, of course, essential – I believe it can save you from depression. But it can also mean you put up with things you maybe oughtn’t to.

Three: invest in a business coach and the app Blinkist, which allows you to listen or read a full book in 20 minutes. If you can, a business coach is ideal. I didn’t have one – I self-educated. But I did write profiles for many successful business owners and coaches, so I asked (and continue to ask) them about things I was struggling with, as I did with you Fiona. Sometimes you don’t know what to ask, and that’s why a business coach can be invaluable.

About Karen:

Struggling to capture your vast experience, skills and stories in your LinkedIn profile? It is hard to write about yourself, isn’t it? Call me on 📱 0404 083 678 and I can take away the pain, save you time, and guarantee your professional success with a done-for-you LinkedIn profile writing service that includes coaching on using LinkedIn.

I became a LinkedIn profile writer because I am fascinated with people’s stories. Always have been. In my former career as a recruiter I used to weave stories into resumes to ensure candidates were selected for interview. Foreseeing that being memorable online would become increasingly important, in 2009 I left recruitment to launch my own business. I have since helped countless senior leaders and business owners achieve their goals.

The results have been spectacular. I’ve witnessed my clients secure new roles because of their profile (in one instance with a 35% pay increase), attract new business, secure investors, and improve how their peers see them. All because of how they are perceived here…