Marie* is wildly successful.  She was a pioneer in the ever-popular homemaking-website industry, creating her first website back before there were any others--and initially writing all of her own articles.  Now 10 years later, she runs a mini-empire, with 10 websites, a subscription service, paid advertisers and a small army of writers submitting articles to her for syndication.  Even still, she does much of her own writing yet today, and the articles she authors still  remain some of the most popular on her websites.
 
However, when I met her, she didn't tell me all of that.  Marie is charming and personable--and definitely a consummate professional.  Instantly likable and a true people-person, she is one of the best professional networkers I have ever met.  But when we met, Marie left out some very important parts of her resume...she only told me she was a small business owner.  As we talked more, she told me a bit about the success of  her websites.  Talking in depth over the next few weeks, we covered many aspects of the business, and Marie described herself and her work many ways but never once did she claim the title of "writer" or "author".  In fact, it was about a month into our friendship before I realized she did any writing at all.


Marie has been featured on HGTV and  in Parenting Magazine--and has been reprinted by many other nationally recognizable names; the stuff of any author's dreams.  She has even co-authored a book you may have seen in a bookstore.  Yet Marie did not consider herself a writer.


Being a person who tends to think in psychological terms, I found this most peculiar.  I have met many self-promoters who make their accomplishments out to be more than reality, but I have not met many people good at networking, who do not accept full credit for their accomplishments and promote them with gusto.


When I pointed this out to Marie, the woman who uses words for a living, sat speechless.

"But I am not actually a writer."


"Haven't you made money from writing?"


"Yes."


"In fact, isn't that how you have been supporting your family?"


"Yes, of course."


"And, this has been your sole occupation for the last decade, right?"


"Yes."


"At what point do you get to claim the title of writer?  You do it full-time, make an income from it, and are considered a professional in your field.  Everyone else considers you a writer.  You have already had more success in your writing career than most writers ever do...what will it take for you to consider yourself one?"

 




Or the woman who sits up at night writing the great American novel--at what point does she get to wear the title "writer" proudly?  Is it once she finishes that first novel?  Cashes the first check?  Or is the act of writing itself, performed regularly--even if no one ever reads a word--enough to justify the using the title with pride?


As we discussed this subject, Marie told me about a business seminar she had attended the month before, about being most impressed by a woman who introduced herself as an author.  From the way she carried herself, Marie assumed this woman had published many books.  It was only after talking for a period of time, that Marie realized this woman had never been published at all....in fact, she was still working on her very first novel, yet the woman wore the title of writer with the pride that only comes from a true sense of accomplishment.


Marie said that the irony was not lost on her at the time:  that she, the professional published author, was introducing herself as a small-business owner, while the woman who had not yet finished her first work introduced herself as a writer.  But, even that bit of irony did not push Marie to make the self-concept leap toward adopting the title of "author".


Many labels are an arbitrary thing we assign ourselves.  Someone who writes in her spare time may consider herself an writer, while a paid professional may not.
When not officially bestowed through ceremony or circumstance, a title is often something that we "are" internally and (sometimes but not always) wear externally for the world to see.  It is the sometimes public and always personal definition of a part of our self.  The moment of the first brush stroke, and the moment a person begins thinking of themselves as an artist are two separate events...at some point a mental leap is made, and the title is incorporated into the psyche; a shift in self-perception is made.


Often natural triggers help us make this leap.  Once a person begins spending a significant amount of time in the pursuit of their craft, or once they begin making a certain income from it (particularly if it allows them to "quit their day job") that is when the shift in self image is usually triggered.  But, there are cases where the changes happen so slowly, over a period of years, that there is no natural definitive shift point. 


If you are a stay-at-home mom who begins making a little money from a hobby.... and if success is a slowly built thing, taking place over a number of years instead of all at once... at what point do you consider yourself a professional in your field?  Take my friend for example, at what point did she become a "writer"?  It is hard to pinpoint an exact date, but I think it is safe to agree that she is there now.


Unofficial Experimental Research


They say the recipe for success in the workplace comes down to this:  identify the position you want and dress for it; act like you already have it; carry yourself in a manner befitting the job.


That advice fits in perfectly with the ever-popular Law of Attraction, which states that:

" people's thoughts (both conscious and unconscious) dictate the reality of their lives, whether or not they're aware of it." -Wikipedia

So, why did my friend, who is so grounded in reality in every other way, fail to see what no one else missed?   Secretly I suspect it stems from low self-esteem.  Despite her incredible accomplishments, she did not feel as though she measured up to the accomplishments of others.


Toward the end of our conversation, I challenged Marie to an experiment:  Introduce herself as an author 10 times over the next month. 


Even I could see the difference.  There was something about declaring herself an author to others that finally allowed Marie to incorporate it into her own self-image.  Her new-found confidence was good for her writing and her business, bringing greater web-traffic and ultimately greater ad revenue.   Absorbing the title into her self identity gave her the professional boost she needed to take her business to the next level.




We have all been told not to label our children and not to accept labels put on us by others.  We have been told that labels damage us psychologically, they limit our growth and inhibit our creativity.  However, I would also say that not accepting a label you have earned can be equally as limiting.  I am not a dedicated follower of the Law of Attraction, but there does seem to be something to it; accepting a positive label inwardly, and projecting it outwardly can attract success.


Looking in from the outside, it is easy to see the change that Marie's self-granted title made; the difference in her career when she claimed credit for her success was a pleasure to watch.  I wonder how many of us are doing the same thing?  Take a moment to ponder this question for yourself:  Do you have any missing titles that could make a difference in your life?  Might be worth a closer look.


*Marie's name was changed to protect her identity.

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This article was originally featured on RioDancesOnTheSand.com,  a blog for the thinking person... Written by Rio Denali, a 30-something with peculiar curiosities, who makes the observations that many of us avoid.  Full of useful links and entertaining articles, it is a fun favorite for the intelligent reader.  For more great articles like this, please visit RioDancesOnTheSand.com.