It no longer surprises me when I meet someone and instantly think “Yep, I want to get to know you better.” It’s also no longer surprising to me how often this happens.
Today,I walked into a room. It was rather scary.
My legs turned to jelly, my heart raced and my face flushed. Fear split me. I spotted a corner. One of my legs headed for the corner, the other remained frozen in place. I performed an odd pirouette, smiled at the one person I knew and said “Hi, how are you?”
And so began my training as a contracted salesperson.
One of the very first things I learnt was the value of self worth. It is a crucial concept of a closed sale: I have to be more than just the stereotype of a salesperson.
Self worth is self confidence. And I don’t have much – which is more than none.
I hate writing “abouts”. Even with my books: I can write a 10 000 word story in a week, but I can’t write a good synopsis. Like the rest of my life, it seems my books have all the good stuff in them whilst I modestly say ” I have no experiences.” and expect people to listen.
That is stupid.
I realised I needed to gain confidence. So I asked people how.
Someone answered “change your perspective”. Apparently, I told Her the same thing earlier this year.
A friend commented previously saying “Your self esteem is yours, don’t let other people’s actions devalue the way you see your self. Be the person you admire, not who somebody else admires.”
It’s odd how confidence and sales have been on my mind lately. It’s odder that James Altucher’s recent blog post was about sales. How from being a “Sales Snob”, he now sees everything as sales. We don’t like it because we give it a shit connotation.
My lack of self-confidence comes from believing I have nothing to offer. This is not true.
I’ve written a book or two. There’s enough of you reading this to tell me my blogging is good. I blogged about hitting on girls and dealing with shitty circumstances and people loved it. I’ve lived through – and forgiven – huge family issues. I’ve moved countries. I’ve driven over 20 different cars. I’ve studied more maths courses than your average graduate. I’ve been a developer. I’ve been a team leader. I’ve been a driver. I’ve read – and commented on – the entire bible. I’ve slept with seven wonderful women, many prostitutes and been in a three-way relationship. I’ve been an analyst. I’ve been a mechanic. I’ve researched so much theology I can’t ever be a christian. I love christmas myths.
And I’m only 25.
Whilst none of these uniquely or collaboratively give me the skills to be a salesperson, they do give me something: worth. It may not be a lot in some peoples’ eyes, but I don’t think that’s the point.
I think the point is simply that by saying I have nothing to give, I give everything I’ve done the sum total of nothing. By realising, instead, that I have something to give, I give myself something worthwhile.