About once a month, since the day we opened, I get contacted by someone from somewhere - Keego Harbor, Grand Rapids, Portland, Phoenix, Los Angeles - that is interested in franchising the SheHive. I always giggle when I get the call. “You don’t really want this quite yet,” I tell them. “The SheHive is a pure labor of love. I’ll call you back when I figure out how it becomes a business.”
No one is getting rich off of the SheHive. I have yet to recoup a single penny of my initial investment in the business. Every time I get close to starting to pay myself back, some major expense pops up - like buying out my business partner or signing a new, major contract.
I work nearly full-time as an organizational development consultant and leadership coach in my other business to contribute to the household finances. Both “jobs” together make for an insane schedule which has resulted in more sacrifices and a less money than I had ever anticipated - but the work fulfills me in so many ways that cannot be measured by money alone. I can’t foresee a time when I would want to give up either.
Yet, the numbers are still always in my head. The numbers in my checking account, in my savings account, in my retirement account, on my invoices, on my tax bill… I was trained to believe that those numbers - along with the number on the scale and the number on my birth certificate - were the story of my worth. I know better now, but there are still days I revert back to the old stories.
Tuesday was one of those days.
A group of us met to discuss the details of a new lease for the SheHive. We’re doubling our rent and paying out a hefty (by SheHive bank account standards) amount in security deposit. My brain went right to the old story. How much money would be left? Could I really afford it? Should I just play it safe and take on a lesser lease at a lesser property? What expenses could I cut?
The negative chatter continued in my head all day long - the story looping over and over, “You don’t have enough. You’ll never have enough.” Then I got real still, took a breath and remembered that’s not my story anymore.
My story is abundance. My story is that I have enough. My story is that I am enough. My story is that if I dive in deep into what fills me and what fills the world, I will always have - and always be - everything I need. My story is that I belong to a benevolent universe.
And that benevolent universe has a kick-ass kitchen, a cleaning crew, dimmer-switch lighting, ample parking AND a roof that actually does what a roof is supposed to do - keep the elements outside.
These new stories about my numbers didn’t develop naturally. They developed over time by sharing the old stories with others that knew differently and cared for me enough to help me understand I could rewrite them. I bring that up because, if the stories you believe about your own numbers - your money, your weight, your worth - are no longer serving you, there are so many prime opportunities kicking off this next month at the SheHive to reframe and rewrite.
If you need to rewrite your story about the number on the scale check out Emotional Eating Rescue - a three-month course that will help you understand the food-mood connection and improve the quality of your food decisions no matter how you are feeling.
If you need to rewrite your story about your finances, check out Money Mastery for the Modern Ms. (or Miss or Mrs.!), a four-part series that will help you get masterful about your money!
If there are other stories that no longer serve you and need to be re-written, I’m sure we can help with those too. Drop me an email or leave a comment below. I want to help!
With much love and gratitude,