🖤🖤🖤

 

So, I went viral this week First name / friend 😂😂😂

 

That thing I wrote on Monday about Ghost being a financial failure?

 

I shared it as a 9 second reel on Instagram and as I'm writing this it's now been played 44,471 times.

 

For a combined total of 87.7 hours.

 

But viral is not what this email's about.

 

This email's about how I don't actually have “A Good Heart.”

 

Here goes.

 

This morning, I got a DM.

 

 

Then she sent this back.

 

 

My ears prick up at allowance. 

 

Maybe that's just a trauma response from being “The Poor Girl” at private school 😂

 

 

And then she sends me this.

 

 

…. then I confuse your with you're…

 

 

And then we get into morality.

 

 

And that's when I tell her I don't have A Good Heart.

 

 

And then we chat more about India and magic.

 

 

I really mean what I said to her about the “moral” Good Heart Thing.

 

I've had similar notes when women check out my free breathwork sessions or my Build Your Trust Fund free course and realize it's not a non-fat skinny latte.

 

It's the full-fucking-fat.

 

And I got some emails this week because I'm offering Brave Thing - Financial Dirt '23 as donation-based with the goal to cover the annual membership for 1 wee girl at my jiu-jitsu gym. 

 

($1,200 btw)

 

I'm not raising money for little fighters or sending books to 16-year-old girls because I have A Good Heart, First name / friend.

 

I wasn't born a LOVER.

 

I not a “naturally giving person.”

 

I love giving stuff away because 5 years ago I realized I really fucking needed to walk down the quiet street where my Heart Once Lived.

 

I had no address.

 

No map.

 

Just “anything but this” ringing in my ears.

 

And once I walked into the deserted hovel where I thought my Heart Onmce Lived I spent a long time stumbling around in the dark and damp basement until my desperate finger landed on a dust-covered light switch.

 

Harsh neon naked lightbulb blinking, turns out the basement of My Heart wasn't so bad.

 

And maybe I could climb the stairs to the first floor?

 

The first ideas of what ended up becoming Brave Thing started swirling in the kitchen.

 

First week of lockdown I sat down at the breakfast bar and started a business course where a woman preached about the importance of mission-driven business.

 

WHO ARE YOU GIVING BACK TO?!

 

My answer to that: fucking no one!?!

 

I mean, I've done your Ideal Client Exercise.

 

I know I want to help women like me!?

 

But if I'm going to quit my job with minimal savings, I need to learn how to cover this course and my rent, before I get “charitable.”

 

I'm just being honest, First name / friend.

 

Only 12% of women-owned businesses make more than $100k a year.

 

That's both SHITE, and very real.

 

I can see how that happens.

 

The ONLY thing that's kept me, and Brave Thing, going is how skilled I've become at managing my own fear-based mind. 

 

(the reason why loads of women buy shit loads of “strategy” or “follow this plan” courses, nothing changes, and then they find me and EXHALE!)

 

It's taken me some time to get to a place in Brave Thing where I'm not staring down the 1st of the month wondering what amazing idea I need to pull out of the backside of nowhere to break even.

 

But, turns out doing Brave Things works.

 

'Cos we're here.

 

I joke that 80% of chronic anxiety and depression spontaneously heals with enough sleep and food.

 

(is it a joke though?!)

 

And it's been true for my business too.

 

Something happens when your basic needs are met.

 

Your eyes don't have to watch where you're walking anymore in case the ground falls away, hurling you into a fucking ravine.

 

You can start looking up at the big wide sky and feel your Heart start floating like a balloon.

 

I feel quite certain I have a Good Heart For Others, now.

 

But only because I found mine first.

 

And built ground to hold her firmly and gently.

 

Call that selfish if you want, I disagree.

 

Self-serving, I disagree.

 

Your Life.

Your Relationships.

Your Work.

 

I never saw full-fat milk pour out of a glass that wasn't filled first.

 

Back to our aspiring 16-year-old writer in the DMs for a minute.

 

As of right now, Amazon doesn't want to ship Ghost to India without a government-issued ID to match the address.

 

Apparently we won't clear customs!?

 

BUT! 

 

The magic of Ghosts is we have no solid form.

 

So I think we'll get this copy to Reet.

 

That's her name, by the way.

 

She lives behind the Picadilli Hotel in Lucknow.

 

I'll keep you updated on Ghost's journey.

 

Oh, and join me in late December for Financial Dirt.

 

Intent is a spell,

 

 

 

 

 

If you’d like a peak behind the scenes of how I build this imperfect, Brave, and beautiful Thing, you want to be there.

 

If you want to know where I made brilliant business-changing moves, while simultaneously throwing gobs of money down the actual toilet, you want to be there.

 

And if you want to understand some of the inner mucking about I do consistently to create the self-image needed to build a business I am equal parts frustrated, proud and joy-filled about, sign up for the waitlist here.

 

Financial Dirt will be donation-based.

 

My goal is raise enough money to cover an annual membership for a girl at my jiu-jitsu gym.

 

Oh, and tell your friends. 

 

If you forward this shit to a woman in your life who doesn't know Brave Thing exists but would probs get a lot of out it, I'd really appreciate it.