How to stand out when everyone else is selling, too

What is it about the feeling of utter despair, that it loves the night time, and LOVES turning up when you’re in the bath or shower?

Partly, I wonder if it’s about the vulnerability of being naked.

But mostly, I think it’s to do with the fact that, on the outside, you’re the cleanest you could be; but on the inside, you feel like mud.

The pain is in that juxtaposition. Like feeling the crush of loneliness even when you’re in a crowded room – or lying in bed with someone, looking at their back.
 

So, it’s 2am, and I’m in the bath at my mum’s house. At 26 years old, I was once again living in my childhood bedroom in London.

The despair circling me on this occasion wasn’t grief or heartbreak, but that crushing disappointment that comes from dreams unrealised, and expectations unmet.
 

Six months before this, I’d left a job – where I had a boss I adored and the guarantee of promotion – to move from my beloved Edinburgh to London (a city where I’d grown up but never really felt at home), in order to try get a gig as a DJ on Xfm, my dream radio station.

For some reason – even though every single person I knew also wanted to work there – I expected to walk straight into the job.

I think I even imagined I might not have to apply – that news of my arrival would spread like wildfire along the Radio Grapevine, and the Program Director (the guy that hires the DJs) would call me up with a job offer, ecstatic:

“Marsha! You’re HERE! We’ve been waiting so long!!”

It didn’t quite happen like that.
 

Instead, I found myself completely unemployed for the first time since I was a teenager, spending my days pacing the corridors of my mum’s house while regretting having left my job – and, sometimes, crying in bath at two in the morning.​

Crying, and listening to Anthony Sweetwater’s radio show. The radio show that I knew – knew – I should have been the host of.
 

One of worst things about having your career not go the way you expected it to, is how it brings out in you envy and bitterness – truly, two of the ugliest emotions there are.

But when you’re feeling like it didn’t happen for you the way you’d hoped – and you hear someone else succeeding, and making a hash of it, it’s hard not to think ugly thoughts.
 

The song that’s playing ends, and Anthony bloody Sweetwater does yet another rambling four-minute chat – that I know I could have done in two, and been funnier, more informative and more engaging.

“I’m better than you,” I mutter out loud. (I would have shouted it, but it was late at night, my ma was asleep, and bathrooms are echoey). “I’m better than you! I should be doing this job, not you!”

He can’t hear me. No one can hear me except me. Another fat tear rolls down my cheek and plops into the water. I hold my nose, bend my legs and slide under the surface, trying to block out both the sound of him talking, and my own bitter, disappointed thoughts.
 

My dream didn’t end there. I didn’t get a different job, and spend my life wondering, ‘What if?’.

Well, actually, I did briefly get a different job, but it was a job in radio, where I got practise at being on-air and getting myself match-fit for making demo CDs for Xfm.

Then I got another job, where there was a spare studio I could use at night, to make those demos.

Then I got the demos handed to the Program Controller.

Then I got the job. 

With pleasant irony, I replaced Sweetwater (who moved to a station in another town) on that 1-3am show.

I soon moved up the schedule and across the schedule, and after eight years – one of the longest stints any DJ has had on that station – I left, but only because I was moving to Canada (and because my idea of a dream job had morphed into doing this: writing stories every week to friends like you).

And how did I get those jobs that got me the jobs? And how did I get my demo to the Program Controller? And how did I have him trust me enough to put me on air with no formal audition or interview?

Networking. 

And not in the schmoozy, self-promoting way I used to imagine I’d have to. But just by making friends with people I liked – and a little extra hustle in all the right places.
 

*|FNAME|*, I’m going to be honest: I don’t actually know where you are right now.

Maybe you’re still working out what your dream career or business looks like. If that’s where you are, I’m not your lady.

Or maybe you’re fucking NAILING it right now, and your work life is exactly where you want it to be. If so: HIGH FIVE AND BODY SLAM! (And: I’m not your lady).
 

But just in case you’re where I was at 26 years old and lying in that bath: 

You know – really know – that you’re fantastic at what you do.
Your clients love the work you do and give you great feedback.

But you’re not quite getting the success you know you’re capable of.

(maybe you’re even feeling some of those ugly envious or bitterness feelings when you see wildly successful people doing what you do, but not as well).

If this is where you are, I’d love to help you.
 

I learned how to get up to that next level in a really tough-to-crack (and very male-oriented) industry. 

Then, once I was there, I became that person who got hundreds of emails asking for help – and I learned which emails got responses and which didn’t, how to get a busy person’s attention and interest and how not to.

I want to pass this stuff on. 

I’m already doing it in these emails and in the blog. You’ve seen it in my email templates and my free guides.

 – But (and I’m sure you get this): there’s SO much more I can do when I work with someone one-on-one. This week I updated my testimonials page, with some quotes like:

“Since working with Marsha, I’ve secured reviews with over-extended bloggers, sponsorship for an event, and got a job for myself that required a networking expert!”

“I have been able to move my career into a new and bigger phase. I didn’t realize I could make that happen so quickly”