Let’s talk about freaking money (#4)
Yup, this one is about vulnerability
Welcome to installment #4 of “Let’s talk about freaking money”! Reminder: my lens is not that of a financial expert. Instead, I am an everyday person and independent businesswoman with deep historical financial baggage who—in nearly two decades as an entrepreneur—has learned a lot and implemented concrete tactics to face my financial fears, find emotional relief, and earn a solid living. Be sure to subscribe so you don’t miss notifications about new posts—financial or otherwise! And if you have a financial question, please DM or email me.
Have you ever felt stuck in your financial tracks because everyone else looks like they are freaking crushing it?
If the answer is yes, I encourage you to take a deep breath, then try to absorb the reality of smoke and mirrors when it comes to success. I think part of the need to project continual crushing-it vibes is related to shame and fear about talking openly about money, which is why I started this series.
When I left academia for the internet in 2006 there were two financial realities in play. The first reality was that even though I was highly educated—I had completed a Ph.D. in brain, behavior, and cognitive science, and a postdoctoral fellowship in auditory neurology—and was working at the top academic and medical institutions in Boston, my salary was around $40,000. The second reality was that, given that I was beginning to find my way in a new industry—blogging via Boston Mamas—I had no colleagues to speak of, so when it came to figuring out what to charge for things like ads and sponsored partnerships, I existed in what I called Make Shit Up University. I suppose part of this was good in that I learned to trust my instincts in terms of what felt fair and reasonable to charge based on my skills and audience, but it was also really hard not to have trusted people with whom to talk shop.
Over the following five years, these two realities evolved as follows. First, because my academic salary was so low, between an editorial freelance contract plus Boston Mamas revenue, it wasn’t long before I passed the $40K mark and felt like I had accomplished my mission. Second, I was fortunate to start building wonderful, trusted relationships with other bloggers (where we eventually talked dollars).
By 2011, my creative life was rolling along. Boston Mamas was considered a pioneering hyperlocal blog in the United States and Boston Magazine had dubbed me the “queen bee” (their words, not mine) of the Boston blogging circuit. I also had started a graphic design/stationery company called Posh Peacock, which was featured in Bride's, Boston Magazine Weddings, Pregnancy & Newborn, and many other outlets.
But I still wasn’t making an income aligned with perceptions of success—in the form of how much organic press I was receiving and the pitches and event invitations in my inbox. (See earlier note about smoke and mirrors.)