Tag Archives: finding my value

My Jeans Fell Down

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Shaping up for success

I put my hand in my pocket tonight and my jeans slid down off my hips. That was a nice surprise. Fortunately only my husband and children were there to enjoy it with me.

It’s been a month since I took up running. I never would have imagined I’d develop a taste for it. When I was in primary school I was the second slowest in class (the slowest of all developed diabetes by the age of 10). At high school my gym teacher struggled to put into words the strangeness of my running gait. But he was certain that it was, somehow, just not right.

So ever since, I’ve believed that running is not for me. Particularly after two babies in quick succession took its toll on my – well, anyway, not for me.

It’s not just your physical self-confidence that motherhood affects; it can also do serious damage to your professional self-image. I’ve always believed that I have what it takes to succeed; I’ve always been ambitious to make my mark. But I wound things down to start a family, somehow blissfully unaware that my main functions in the years to come would be more akin to dairy cow and domestic serf than omnipotent freelance superwoman.

Through all that, despite my decidedly sub-par performance as both dairy cow and domestic serf, I never stopped believing in my ability to succeed. But that belief, instead of driving me forwards, was driving me crazy. Especially when I found myself lifted from my home country, far from the path I had made myself. I had no idea how I would ever find my way; my carefully-laid trail of crumbs had dissolved in the ocean I had crossed.

But now, I see a clearing ahead. And I can’t quite believe it, but running has brought me to it.

I didn’t start running through choice. My daughter signed up for a race which required the accompaniment of a parent, and all of a sudden this clapped out old dairy cow was facing her very own Grand National. I ran a few times round the block to see if I could, and turned so purple that my neighbour expressed serious concern for my heart. But the next day I got further. And the day after that, right through the woods.

The race came and went two weeks ago: my daughter lost interest and dropped out in advance, but by that time I was hooked. I had become addicted to achieving the impossible. After all that time believing that I couldn’t run, here was I, dashing to the next village and back in a matter of minutes, no wheels involved.

I had discovered that I was capable of transforming myself; that my limitations weren’t as fixed as I had imagined. I had found to my amazement that step by liberating step, I could make myself fit for purpose. And this realisation fed almost instantly into my sense of professional self. It’s not that I haven’t been active through the dairy cow years, but a serious, steady income seemed all that time beyond my reach. I’ve done enriching work, and I’ve learned plenty, but the link between work and financial reward had somehow been broken for me. I had grown used to wandering around in circles, enjoying the view.

But the path is right in front of me now; I can see it clear as day. My first step is sorting out my LinkedIn presence: let me know what you think. The second is adding strong SEO knowhow to my copywriting and editing skillset – I’m pretty geeky, so that doesn’t scare me at all. And step three will be studying for the NT2 II exam, to bring my Dutch to a professional standard. All of these are well within reach, and will, I am sure, get me in perfect shape to attract high calibre clients who value quality content, professionally delivered.

I’m changing. I can feel it. The scales say I’m staying heavy and the purse remains light, but I know I’m getting fitter on both counts. My jeans fell down, remember. And just you wait, the work will come. I’m on the right path now.

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headshot15weeAbout Catriona
I love to tell stories. My career has covered many bases, but communication has always been at the heart of everything I do. From journalism, politics and PR to art and design; from broadcast animation to published picture books and copy editing, it’s all about making people look and listen, and love what they hear. 

Looking for a copywriter to help you tell your story? Get in touch!

Damn, I Forgot to Charge

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A Day in the Life of an Incorrigible Creative

This morning, I finally finished my emojis. My beloved little Blob character, hand drawn 80 times over, will go on sale through LINE, the Asian giant of mobile chat apps. It’s a collaboration with my friend Yoshie, who will do the marketing. We don’t get anything upfront, but we’ll get a few cents for every purchase. You never know: we might make our fortune.

Then I read some wonderful writing from 1920, for the introduction to my illustrated book of weird and wonderful Gaelic words. I received two generous grants to make the book, but given the acres of time I’ve so far put into this labour of love, I wouldn’t want to calculate the hourly rate.

This afternoon I will write the life story of this year’s International Children’s Peace Prize winner. I used to charge for this job, but after seeing the amazing winners in action I felt unable to ask for money anymore; so now it’s my annual contribution in their honour.

But before I get to that, I’m doing this. I keep hearing how important it is to get active on LinkedIn [where this post originally appeared], so here I am: doing another enjoyable task for nothing. Not sure how it will help me to sell my services, but who knows? It might.

11I clearly need the help. Making money doesn’t come naturally to me. Of course I do plenty of paid work too, but I often get the sneaking feeling that my prices don’t reflect my value. The client is always so nice. The cause is always so worthwhile. The challenge is always so enticing.

Agonising over my worth, I was referred the other day to a Dutch salary checking website. I wondered, when asked to fill in how long I’d been working, whether it was assumed that I had remained for 20 years in one narrow area of specialism. While I can see a definite thread of communication and storytelling running through my career, there are distinctly different boxes to tick for copyediting, political research, journalism, PR, art, illustration and animation production.

I remember tingling with pleasure some time ago, when an acquaintance called me Renaissance Woman because of the eclectic nature of my skills and experience; I love covering all the bases, and it’s perfect for running my own company, but at the greying age of 42, I’m still stymied when asked the simple question of what it is that I “do”. My elevator pitch works better on the stairs. Several flights of them, preferably.

The easy-to-define, conventionally-employed section of my career ended in 2001. I chose to become self-employed in October that year, just as my father took early retirement. We joked that we were retiring simultaneously, and it’s true that we’ve both thrived on the freedom, being prolific and varied in our output ever since. He’s an academic – making money doesn’t come naturally to him either.

The truth is, you only live once. I want my work to be creative and meaningful. I want to make the world a better place and to leave things behind that raise a smile. I don’t want to be a cog in some faceless financial machine, spat out all used up at the end of every day.

But then, beggars can’t be choosers. My husband’s employers have been fickle with him; they tempted him to this country four years ago, made a trailing spouse out of me, and Dutch kids out of our children, and now seem to have mislaid their purse. I find myself faced with the age-old imperative for work: the bills need to be paid and a roof kept over our heads.

That’s not the only reason I want to earn money though. There comes a point for most, I think, when being offered a significant hourly rate gives you a sense of legitimacy. I will always want to follow my passions and make the world a better place, but if I’m doing it well (and I believe I am), there is no reason why the world should not pay me for it.

So first I need to work out what it is I “do”. The world will want to know that. And then I just need to remember to charge for it.

Simple, right?

_______________________________________________________

headshot15weeAbout Catriona
I love to tell stories. My career has covered many bases, but communication has always been at the heart of everything I do. From journalism, politics and PR to art and design; from broadcast animation to published picture books and copy editing, it’s all about making people look and listen, and love what they hear. 

Looking for a copywriter to help you tell your story? Get in touch!