Are you interested in taking a leap in your professional and/or personal life, but feel like fear is holding you back? You aren’t alone. Get ready to be inspired! We are honored to share the stories of six Hivery members who’ve faced their fears in memorable ways.
Kier Holmes: I had a deep fear of public speaking so I signed myself up to teach adult gardening lectures at the Mill Valley Library. Sometimes there would be close to 20 people in the class that I lectured to for 1.5 hours. After many classes, I learned to accept the butterflies in my stomach and teach them to fly in unison, plus I learned to embrace my anxiousness and use the energy to make my lectures more honest, mildly self-deprecating and conversational.
Rachel O’Connor: Very recently I quit my job of 14 years so I could pursue my calling: to work with kids. I listened to my deep-seated fears of losing financial security/a comfortable livelihood, and chose to go ahead anyway. I kept front and center the possibility that I could do something so much bigger than stay in a job that was numbing me. I focused on the possibility that I could make a really big difference if I let go of the fear that was keeping me stuck. Making the declaration "I am someone who can create a world where kids feel Empowered, Safe, and Free” was my commitment to making that possibility
a reality. I looked at fear and said, "Enough!"
Mary Gassen: I’m the owner of Noe Valley Bakery and, as we go through the process of opening a second location, I’m learning a lot about the voice in my head that tells me I’m going to make a mistake, repeats all the worst-case scenarios and shows me a disastrous future. I’ve realized that it’s easy to listen to that voice and mistake it for the voice or reason or even our gut, but in reality, it’s fear.
I’ve learned so much about that voice that I’ve given myself a three-step process for dealing with it:
Step 1: Recognize it. My fear often runs for worst-case scenarios, or tells me “You’re about the ruin everything!” If you don’t think your fear has a voice, start listening! Learn your fear’s voice so you can pick it out.
Step 2: Give it a Name: My fear’s name is Suzi Banchee. She’s screams at me hysterically, waving her arms with red cheeks and a frantic face. She says things like “You’re going to ruin everything! What are you thinking? This will never work!” Giving her a name allows me to think a little more clearly. It’s not logic that telling me I’m ruining everything, it’s just Suzi Banchee.
Suzi cares very much about keeping me safe. The more I listen to her, the more I realize that when I’m getting closer to something that’s good and helpful, she gets louder and louder. Being vulnerable, putting myself out there—that’s her worst fear. Suzi Banchee does not like taking risks, she likes being safe. I’m learning to hear her voice as a sign that I’m taking a risk, or growing.
Step 3: Thank Suzi and dismiss her. Now when I hear that I am making a colossal mess of my life, I thank Suzi for her concern, and tell her I’ve got it. She may be trying to protect me, but I’ve looked it over, done the math, examined the risks, and I know that opening a second bakery is going to be good for my family and my business. I remind her of all the homework I’ve done before taking this risk, and all of the experience I have. This is what it is to be an entrepreneur — to manage fear and still grow, take risks and evolve, despite the moments that I look around and think, “What am I doing?”
Liz Fritz: I resigned from my executive level corporate job in early September and became a full time entrepreneur running a marketing business for wealth management and fintech clients.
A year ago, I would describe myself as "risk adverse" and fearful of uncertainty. I did not like surprises and carefully mapped out every move in my career until eight months ago when I joined The Hivery and had a private consultation with Grace. This conversation propelled me on a personal and professional journey of self discovery that has led me to start our family business. It’s been amazing to see how putting dreams out into the universe, trusting intuition, hard work, planning and learning to “take up space” within oneself guided me through the fears that might have kept me from finding a new calling.
Beth Crittenden: I was scared to join The Hivery. I first heard about it when it was in Sausalito. I got on the mailing list, told myself it would cost too much, and eventually just gave up on the idea. I couldn't even bring myself to visit, because I was too afraid I would love it and would not be able to afford it.
A couple of years later, I burned out on renting office space on my own. I felt so lonely and disconnected. I was going to check out a "regular" co-working space in Sausalito when I heard my smart inner voice say, "Just pay for The Hivery and see how it goes. You can quit if you want to after the first phase."
I have been in love with it from day one! It has been wonderful support to work there, and such great medicine for my now-former sense of disconnection and loneliness as a solo-preneur. It no longer seems "expensive"; it seems like one of the best investments I am making in my business and my own well being.
Amanda Burke Livingston: I decided to take the leap to become a freelancer four years ago, after a career working for PR agencies and for major corporations. While I was doing work I was really excited about, mom was diagnosed with Huntington's Disease, and I knew I wanted to create a professional life where I wouldn’t be tied to an office.
I was terrified. This agency had kept me employed through an economic downturn and fought really hard to do so. I knew going out on my own would expose me to all the uncertainty and rejection that comes along with being your own product. I followed my gut, and it turns out my gut was actually screaming at me for a different reason altogether.
Six months later, my husband was diagnosed with Stage 4 Melanoma at the age of 27. Words like ‘shocked,’ or ‘terrified’ don't come close to describing the emotions that followed. It turned out that my gut was helping me set up a work structure that would allow me to stay both gainfully employed and at hospitals all across the country for the two years he was in treatment.
When we lost him June 18, 2016, I became a 31-year-old widow, parent to two dogs, and a solo homeowner. Overcoming the fear of managing the life that I built with my partner is something I struggle with daily. I'm very much in the healing process. Grief and work are not two words that fit together. Working for myself has allowed me the space to make grief my number-one priority. I have control of what work I do when and for whom. It's still a journey filled with scary turns and ebbs and flows, but at least I own it.