"You'd better marry a rich man" they told me. Oops 🙊.

For as far back as I can remember, my parents used to take me out to worldly restaurants. 

By the age of 6, unlike most kids around me, I knew what sushi and steak tartar were. 

And even from such a young age, I’d always pick the most expensive dish — without seeing the prices! (And no, this hasn’t changed 🤷‍♀️.)

“You’ve got champagne taste, my dear. And a beer budget”, my father would say..

“You’d better marry a rich man”, my mum would add.

 It became a running joke.

(Less of a joke when my dad took off, and my mum was left to raise us solo…another story for another day).

Over time, I’d come to tell my parents that I didn’t need to marry a rich man, as I’d become a rich woman. 

Neither of these things happened, though. 

I didn’t go into business or finances or any of those professions that pretty much guarantee a solid 6-figure income. 

Instead, I followed my heart and studied Environmental Studies, then Development Studies. 

Somewhere along the way, satisfying my champagne taste stopped being important. 

I needed to save the world.  

And along the way, I found a partner who felt the same. 

He wasn’t the rich man who’d support my champagne taste from day 1 (...in fact, he came from a family of far lesser means than my own). 

But over the years he’d come to get a well-paying job that he loved, that was aligned with his values — and that could afford me some of my champagne-taste indulgences.  

Meanwhile, over on the female front, I chose to leave my job as a well-paying research consultant, and become a full time mom only 2 weeks after our adopted daughter came to us. 

Full time momming would be my status until our second child was 9 months old and I’d return to work part-time for an international HIV/ AIDS organization.  It was a good job. They were SUPER flexible and I was part of a super team with a fabulous boss. 

And I hated it.

I hated leaving my youngest at daycare with strangers. I hated rushing to pick him and my daughter up, only to rush through dinner and baths and bedtime so that I could wrap up work before I collapsed and start all over the next day.

I absolutely dreaded work travel away from my littles.

It was what I now call my automatic pilot hamster-wheel phase.

My husband and were exhausted. And I was finding myself getting sick more and more often.

In looking back, I now know that my heart was very sad.

This is when our miracle immaculate conception "thing" happened.

Yup, without having energy or time for sex, we managed to make another baby.

After 5 (no joke!) pregnancy tests, I told my husband #3 was on his way. 

Fast forward 9 or so months.

While on maternity leave, I decided to use up the professional development fund offered by my employer (I told you it was a good job!) and get certified as a coach with the International Coaching Academy.

I remember that first call so clearly...

There I was,  in my pyjamas, covered in breast milk, babe on boob experiencing a full body YES.

This thing, this coaching thing…it made my cells sing.

It was what I was meant to do.

It felt natural, easy, and as my training evolved, I started to experience the transformative power this new modality had for me — and the other amazing students I was peered with. 

The penny dropped.

I could make money doing good for the world, in a way that felt even more delicious than what I was already doing 

 AND be there for my kiddos! 

Life was about to take a major turn.

I wasn’t entirely clear on how things would pan out (baby brain fog ran high), but I knew that coaching was my thing…and that working to someone else’s agenda and schedule WAS NOT.

Besides, if we were barely coping with 2 littles, how on Earth would I manage a full time job with 3?!

My husband, despite his money worries, was supportive as ever.

We downsized and when our youngest turned 9 months old, I hired Laura, the most amazing childminder (and soon to be my bestest of friends) to watch him a couple of afternoons each week, to give me time to start up my new business.

And the rest is herstory.

Or is it?

Truth be told, a big chunk of my journey as business owner has been hard AF. 

I used to believe you’d think less of me if I told you how hard this entrepreneurial ride has been, so I kept the fails and misses to myself. 

But now I know that the hard stuff is the compost that’s fertilized today’s business success.

And this compost is what I want to share with you over the course of the coming weeks. 

So get ready for some super heart-on-sleeve confessions.  

❤️

Alex