Becoming an Imperfect Storyteller

Conversations with myself have been a doozy these past few weeks. I often go on these long-winded epic rants in my head whenever I am doing the dishes, walking in the park, taking a long shower, or doomscrolling at 3am.

When I allow my mind to wander, it wanders all the way to wonderland. Sometimes those trips are cool.

Other times I want to cry.

Most of the time, I’m glad I don’t have sharp objects around me because most of those mindless excursions into my subconscious are accompanied by a lot of anger. I was never into kickboxing, although I should do it to at least get out the rage I pretend doesn’t exist.

What I’ve come to realize is that I am an imperfect storyteller, and I embrace that term with confidence. This wasn’t always the case, though.

As I shift my brand positioning to realign with storytelling, I need to create parameters for the term so that I am clear about what it means and how I lead by example.

I love the term “imperfect.”

It implies two things:

  1. I’m perfect (as I am)
  2. Blemishes are to be cherished too

My gut had a visceral reaction when I discovered that my zone of genius is rooted more in storytelling than strategy. I thought maybe I learned how to be a strategist so that I could apply those skills to my own storytelling endeavors.

I created an offering called “Imperfect Storytellers” and crafted it in a way that not only supports others to realize their voice but also empowers them to command their presence through consistent and strategic storytelling.

Again, in my mind, the wandering thoughts took me down a path of success and excellence.

THIS was the way to go.

As I spoke about it to potential clients and those I thought would resonate with this new direction, they were totally on board.

Everything felt kismet, and I finally felt lit the fuck up in a way I have not felt for many years. I pulled some cards, and from my own deck, the one that leaped up to me was “confidence.”

Ok, cool. Let’s go!

Then I spoke to someone, not necessarily in my niche or my ideal target demographic, who was apprehensive about the name. The term didn’t resonate with them. Nothing about my vision was captivating their attention.

Naturally, I shrunk like Rick Moranis in that movie and second-guessed everything. As much as I despised the term, I felt what I assumed is what y’all call *imposter syndrome.”

I get ideas all the time, and some are good, and others don’t manifest. I was disappointed that I had put so much emotional energy into a vision that felt so intuitively aligned, but because one person said no, I was ready to “throw out the baby with the bath water,” which is a messed up phrase in and of itself.

That “woe is me” moment lasted 45 minutes.

I did not come this far only to come this far, and I knew better than to let one non-client perspective decide how I would serve the people who need my magic the most.

I know my shit. I know what I’m doing. I know better than to prioritize a stranger over my own internal compass. Maybe a few years ago, I would have quit before even starting.

Still, I’ve had one too many experiences where I let the opinion of others influence how I roll professionally, only to find someone else doing exactly what I wanted to do.

One of the worst feelings in this entrepreneurial journey is seeing someone with your vision thriving in it and not you because you listened to someone whose limited thinking convinced you to keep them company in small-ville.

I’m a *ride or die* chica, and the first person I am all-in for is myself. Everyone else gets to jump in the hooptie if they want, but I am always the one who decides when, where, and how we’re getting to the next destination.

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