Income doesn’t automatically follow excellence
I'm staring at the loopy letter above the blackboard, memorizing the exact way the bottom of a capital D turns into a sweeping curve. I'm copying it onto a dull sheet of lined paper. My hand is cramping but I'm determined. I'm going to do it well.
Even before my quest to master cursive writing in third grade (do kids even learn that anymore?), I was already obsessed with being excellent. Math, spelling, reading. I got the answers right, could spell long words, and got gold stars, A's, and glowing praise from teachers. My parents were happy, too.
At the same time, I got the distinct message that I wasn't supposed to brag about it or call too much attention to myself. I don't remember explicit instructions but instinctively sensed I shouldn't stand out. Keep my head down. Be better than competent. The rewards will come.
This model of success stayed with me until I realized it was built on a belief. If I did the work well enough, everything else would follow, especially money. I see this all the time in my work coaching women on creating income.
Excellence doesn't automatically become income.
I've watched women with head-spinning accomplishments respond to their discomfort with earning and asking for more. One client had been a successful corporate lawyer and was beginning to organize retreats on her own. Every time someone asked the price, she'd immediately start talking about all that was included. She decided this hesitation meant she wasn't ready to charge what she'd planned. When she finally started to see that mentioning the price had very little to do with her ability, she filled the retreats.
Another client, an award-winning designer, had reached an earning plateau. Her default solution was to work longer, tinkering with her website and pricing strategy, thinking the people outside her usual circle would notice her. She didn't have a plan to help them see it. Once she started intentionally putting her work in front of those who could pay her what she wanted, the plateau broke.
The women I work with are excellent at what they do. Quite a few of them still don't think they're excellent enough.
Being excellent at what you do isn't the same skill as saying the higher fee without feeling embarrassed. Or telling people about your work instead of waiting to be discovered.
We may not be perfect or finished, but what if being more excellent isn't the thing standing between us and earning more?
