I'm playing for Her.
Last week, I sent a bunch of emails telling you about what it's actually like being the recording artist, bookkeeper, marketing department, copywriter, legal council, entire back up dancing troupe, and emotional support animal for Brave Thing.
All here if you missed it, First name / friend -
At first, this session was going to be totally free.
But, tbh, that didn't feel quite right.
So, here's the plan.
Financial Dirt is going to be $7 (at least).
As in, you can pay what you want, as long as it's $7 or more.
$7 does not represent in any way, shape, or form the value of Financial Dirt.
Dirt's going to be an intoxicating mix of business insight, money, self-image gymnastics, behind-the-scenes, with a large side of *cringe* at some of the mistakes I've made in Brave Thing this year.
Plus, based on how things are shaping up in my brain, I think the session will run for 2 hours. Maybe more, depending on how many of you have questions.
I'll answer them all (as long as they're not obscene)
Yes, it's all recorded.
So, here's why I landed at $7.
One, it's one of my favourite numbers.
(Along with 3 and 21)
And I'm not a witch, but I believe in magic. So I like to surround myself with names and numbers that feel like spells.
Two, $7 is a very low barrier to entry. But you've still got to actually decide to be there. Which matters.
Three, I don't need to make any money this month from this Dirt session.
My needs are met by everything else I've built in my business (couldn't always say that), so it feels fine to artificially deflate the price.
And, finally four: I'm playing for Her.
So, who's she?
Well, over the years, I've tried to think of “worthy causes” that I could donate to that “made sense” for Brave Thing.
Eating disorder recovery centers/mental health stuff never felt right: they never helped me?!
I don't care as much about the environment as perhaps I should. I love plastic straws and I use one every day to drink my iced latte.
And my husband has to retro-actively dig through our rubbish and put my plastic Pic N' Mix Jelly Bean containers in the recycling.
(Something I've learned about marketing is that no matter how life-changing an offer is, or the investment point, if I'm not Full of Joy about offering The Thing, I'm not offering it. There's no way I'd be as excited as I am to share Dirt if I was raising funds to plant trees - it's just a fact).
When I played at Syracuse, there's a quote my field hockey coach and mentor, Ange, would crack out when we really needed to Get It Together.
“Somewhere behind the athlete you've become and the hours of practice and the coaches who have pushed you is a little girl who fell in love with the game and never looked back... play for her.” ― Mia Hamm
This quote got my through some really tough matches in my life.
None tougher than the first few months of my early healing journey where I had to let every competitive and “driven” bone in my body turn to blubber so I could turn the stone in my chest back into a beating heart.
I thought about Her a lot during those months.
The wee girl I totally forgot about, and left abandoned.
On the floor.
For decades.
I fought so hard to show her I loved her. That it was safe to come home.
This year, I finally felt safe to dip my toe back into “Intense Iona” by starting jiu-jitsu.
I competed in my first tournament this year and I felt nearly as sick as the now TWO TIMES I've eaten a shitty oyster and pulled a muscle in my back from puking.
Competing was terrifying.
But these wee girls, here?
