After years of struggling to become a successful entrepreneur, I finally discovered that the traditional business model doesn’t work for me. I was born with an educator’s heart with an innate desire to teach, and freely share knowledge. I felt like a dismal failure, a loser, that I was just not good enough. 

Fortunately, my writing coach helped me to widen and shift my perspective to consider there are two kinds of entrepreneurs, i.e., those who excel within the traditional business model and others who are artistic entrepreneurs. After years of questioning myself, I felt like I’d been set free! The concept of being an artistic entrepreneur resonated in my soul. This fit me! 

Today, I realize my real work is rooted in my personal story. Frank and I met in high school. Even as a young teen, he was clear on his calling: to be an Army Ranger. I, on the other hand, felt deeply rooted to family and lifelong friends in Texas. I wanted to become a teacher and a mother. I couldn’t begin to imagine living the ragtag, vagabond lifestyle required of a military family!  

With determination and southern charm, he finally convinced me! Early in our marriage, Frank asked me questions no one else had ever asked; for example, "How does your Southern Baptist upbringing shape your worldview?" Perhaps, because I’d grown up in small-town Texas with limited exposure to 'difference', I'd never given this much thought. It took years to realize his inquiry had merit. 

Frank knew I'd be introduced to many different worldviews throughout our military career and wondered how I’d deal with it? Cultural and family narratives provide structure for our beliefs. Sometimes narratives are relayed to us explicitly, but often they are seeded in our brains implicitly; silently. We grow up steeped in these narratives, most of which we’re not consciously aware of, even though they shape us, acting as an invisible force field as we move through our lives. Some narratives serve us; others may hold us back. I’m grateful for Frank’s probing questions which I’d not yet considered or explored. His inquiry led me to examine my core beliefs and cultural roots. My initial fear of living with the uncertainty inherent in a military lifestyle almost led me to say no to my story. 

Having now arrived in what I call The Third Thirty (forthcoming book) I’ve learned that sharing my story is perhaps the most important work I’ll ever do! I’ve also learned I can’t tell ‘the story only I can tell’ if I don’t understand the places, people, and cultural forces that formed and informed me early on. This deep, internal probe led me to ask many questions before uncovering any answers, but then, work worth doing (even if we fail) always does. 

I long to do the work that only I can do. I long to be rooted in my own story.

- Coach Megan