[Put your hands together for Holly Jackson, genius copywriter and guest poster extraordinaire! Plus, she wears cute pajama bottoms and tank tops while she works. Way to go! -LaVonne]
I always start these guest posts by typing the same thing, “Hi, I’m Holly, and I run Cottage Copy.” I start with this because guest posts make me nervous, fundamentally, and it’s nice to start out feeling like this cool, competent person. Then I erase it and write a real introduction so I don’t feel like a nerd.
When you really embrace the idea of running a company, you force yourself to step into a whole new kind of identity. To run a successful business, you’ve got to commit to the idea for the long haul. Even more important, you’ve got to commit to an identity that isn’t who you are every day. It’s sort of like stepping into the telephone booth and putting on the underwear outside your pants for a change — in a weird, empowering way.
We wear these identities like a shield on the really bad business days.
I have a personal theory that many people develop these professional identities for themselves because it lets them step back from all the personal aspects of running a business. If your piece gets rejected, it wasn’t really you, it was the business you. The real you can still go through your daily life and be reasonably unaffected by the whole thing.
We take these business selves and imbue them with all the characteristics that we’re striving for, and then we hold them up as examples of who we really want to be. Sometimes, just by pretending to be that other person, we get one step closer to actually becoming them.
I have a confession, and I think it’s the first time I’ve ever said this on the internet: when I was growing up, I didn’t want to be a writer. I didn’t write all the time, I didn’t dream of writing books, and I certainly didn’t think about doing marketing writing. I didn’t even keep a diary.
Falling into this profession was the best thing that ever happened to me — it’s changed me immensely. I’ve accidentally found the thing that I’m most passionate about.
But some days I feel like, well, a flake.
I keep running into these people who are desperate to be “real writers,” as they put it. They’ve all been writing since they were five and had their first novel ready for publication when they were fifteen, and they make me feel like a fake.
Deep in my heart, I’m not really sure that I’m a “real writer” yet — despite the fact that I can’t imagine doing anything else, and that I’ve been successful in a relatively short period of time at it. I feel like I’ve cheated the system somehow, so I put on this persona of a lifetime writer to fit in and feel less uncomfortable about the whole thing.
None of this was actually a problem until I got my first VIP conference ticket a few months ago. I was excited at first, because it was the first time in my life I’d gotten a VIP ticket to anything, and that in itself felt like reason enough to go.
It was about then that the terrible realization I’d been avoiding hit my stomach: at some point, I was going to have to take my internet alter-ego off the internet and out into the real world, and I had no idea how to become her.
Let me tell you who I really am: I’m a young-looking 24, I have cat’s-eye glasses, and I usually work in some combination of pajama pants covered with children’s book characters, and a tank top. I have two obvious tattoos and I usually forget to get my hair cut in any kind of timely manner.
This person was clearly not equipped to go to a professional conference, or to be seen as a “real writer.”
I decided that I had to make myself into this other person so I wouldn’t disappoint anyone, or be seen as a flake or a fake (I don’t know which I was more worried about.) I went out and bought what I thought of as adult clothes. I didn’t think about what I wanted to wear, just what someone like my mother would have approved of. I was so freaked out about the whole thing that I lost all sight of who I really was, just who I thought I should be.
I practiced trying to make my voice less young or squeaky, and I worried about looking like a teenager when everyone else would be mature, established people. I worried about what real writers wore. After all, don’t they all wear cool, creative clothes and look threadworn yet elegant?
I was about two weeks into this process when I realized that I actively did not want to go to this conference anymore. The pressure of trying to become a new person had beaten me down, and the thing that I had been so excited about just seemed like one big horrible ordeal. I chickened out and canceled, and tried not to think about the potential business that I’d lost by doing so. I felt awful, but I was convinced that going would have felt even more awful. I felt lost, and ironically, more like a confused twenty-four year old with no professional experience than I ever had before, despite running a successful business.
The feeling of not knowing who I was didn’t go away.
I wish I had some inspirational nugget of wisdom here to tell you how to kick that feeling. I know that it’s common, especially among creative professionals. I can say that the improvements have been small but gradual.
- I started drafting an essay collection, and I’m slowly trying to put all that junk about what makes a real writer out of my head, at least when I’m actively drafting material.
- I bought some real adult clothes that aren’t dictated by the voice of my mother in my head, and I wear them occasionally and enjoy them. I haven’t been invited to another conference but I feel like I might be better equipped to go to one if I was. (At least if I did, it wouldn’t feel like I was dragging along a total stranger for a few days.)
- Most important, I’m making an effort to wear the superwoman underwear inside my pants most of the time, instead of using it as a crutch to fake my way through things.
I’m happy to say that it’s a good enough compromise for both versions of me.
Holly Jackson is the owner of Cottage Copy, a copywriting and marketing boutique specializing in all things unconventional. You can chat with her on Twitter @copygeniusgirl as she learns to run a 10k, takes her first
steps towards becoming a professional essayist, and generally learns to come to terms with the two halves of herself.
What’s your superhero business persona? How do you manage the two sides of your self? Tell us in the comments below!
Image credit: Kevin McShane

Pingback: cottage copy » How wanting to be a ninja turtle can lead to a writing career
Pingback: cottage copy » Friday Roundup: On roundtables, free consultations, and being naked on your blog (no seriously)
Pingback: cottage copy » Step out of your comfort zone