People always ask me:
“Tell me about that time you were cleaning toilets/homes to make ends meet” – hoping for a rock bottom story.
You know what?
That time in my life was deeply empowering.
And I still had a shit ton of privilege, because I didn't need an additional 3 jobs to keep us afloat. I was home before dinner.
And that home was deeply loving and safe.
Why did I love this season so much?
For the first time ever, after a career in which I often got paid in “exposure”, I was able to go out, do stuff, come home with money in my pocket.
And I didn't just clean.
I created MAGIC.
I'd declutter people's homes.
Upsold them essential oil-infused cleaning products I made myself (I didn't want to work with the chemical stuff because I was super pregnant).
And I loved people coming home and **GASPING** because everything was not just fresh, it was transformed.
Honestly, I think this goes back to people looking down on manual labor. Just like people pretend/think that day labourers who grow and harvest our food are “unskilled”.
All work is skilled.
All work needs to be honored.
All workers should be valued.
With every home I cleaned, I stripped away generational patterns of helplessness and scarcity.
And I fondly remember those days as I biked through town, big pregnant tummy and all.
18 months later (and another baby later lol), I'd used the $7 an hour money to not only pay for groceries but buy myself my first online course.
And a large stack of books on sales, marketing, wealth, abundance, and more.
I remember walking into a shoe store after my first successful months in business, and buying myself shoes for the first time in 6 years.
6 years of wearing my much younger sister's hand-me-downs.
6 years of just wearing the same old, run-down sneakers.
6 years of never going on vacation.
6 years of biking everywhere.
6 years of discovering that wealth is alive in every moment of joy.
I bought myself a pair of golden sneakers (all the rage that year), and I promised myself I'd be a millionaire by the time I was 30 – my “Millionaire Shoes”.
I still wear them to this day, they're a little bit run down, but nostalgia tastes sweet.
And yes, I did become a millionaire by the age of 30.
Just wanted to share that.