I suppose you could say I’ve started to dream again. Dream of ways to get myself out of debt, build my own business, be able to work for myself. I have about three different things that I love to do, that I could potentially make money from. Nothing that has proven to be sustainable. Yet. But people do this every day, why not me, I tell myself that it’s easy. What have I got to lose anyways? I’m just sitting at home staring at a screen working for someone else. While I have time to kill I dream up ways I could be working for myself.
I’ve always, always, always love vintage things. I’ve always loved antique shopping. I’ve loved watching storage wars, watching other people find treasures and then resell their items for a huge profit online. I even dated someone, over 10 years ago now, who’s dad was in the business of eBay reselling. He made huge profits and would tell us all the time to get in the business. At the time, in my early to mid-20’s that seemed impossible to me. At the time, my boyfriend and I briefly talked about buying storage units together to dig through and resell, but he was extremely disorganized and immature, and I had a toddler and was working full time. It was just impossible to get anywhere even though I wanted out of my corporate job so bad. Taking the leap to do something like that with no safety net was a pipe dream. I had little to no savings at the time. I couldn’t take the risk. I could only take small, calculated risks that I knew would pay off. That was why I got licensed to teach Zumba classes and vowed to myself I would build my “business” from there. Before I knew it I was teaching 5 classes a week. I was being asked to teach at special events, before crowds of thousands, I said no to nothing. The most I ever made for teaching one class was $400. $400 for one hour of my time! That was after 6 years of teaching. The trouble is, I was so burned out that the money didn’t matter anymore. That was the last class I taught, and that class was in September of 2020. Just 3 months before my complete mental breakdown. It’s been over 2 years now since I’ve taught a fitness class, and I don’t think I’ll ever go back. But I think that’s where my itch is coming from. The separate side hustle. Something that I built and watched grow. Something that became a part of me. Something that other people wanted a part of too.
Now I’m not saying that would be the same feeling working as an ebay reseller, no I’m not saying that at all. I’ve been selling my own handmade jewelry on Etsy for the past 2 years also, which I’ll still continue to do, but sales have been slow. I’d like to again build something from nothing, I’d like to make it successful. I think that’s what I’m trying to say. I have a lot of ideas. I don’t have a lot holding me back this time. One of the only things creeping in and telling me to stop is the fear that I’ll fail. I remember having that same feeling when I started teaching Zumba classes, so what did I do? I got my name out there. I said no to nothing. I wasn’t scared. I taught every class, even if it was to one person and I had to drive 25 minutes to get there. I did it because I loved it. When I stopped loving it, the money I was making didn’t even matter. I suppose the first step is to consider this: am I doing this for the right reasons? For now, my answer is yes. I have other goals in mind, I’m trying to push through the blocks I have. I’m wondering if one day I’ll look back and remember this time, the time I wondered if it would work out, if it would become something, and laugh because it did. Or if I’ll just look back and be happy that I tried.
One thing is for sure, I won’t look back and wonder what would have happened. Maybe I don’t have a fear of failure at all. Maybe I have a fear of flying. And right now, I’m ready to take off.
The Girl Without A Face 