How It All Makes Sense Now

Like many of us, my world seemed to fall apart November 9th. After I spent a few days being deeply depressed, I decided to take action. I took all the action and went to all of the things and I got really involved. I wanted to Be Effective and Make a Difference and Have My Voice Heard. I protested, I joined groups, I went to meetings, I signed up for nearly anything that was put in front of me. I wanted to find the one thing that would be My Purpose.

And then I was overwhelmed. I couldn't focus on one thing because I was trying to do everything. I was close to burnout. The other goals I made for myself this year seemed less important and I was spread too thinly everywhere.

This last week I went to National Training for Pure Romance. Thursday night I was sitting in Aronoff Center in Cincinnati for opening session. Pure Romance will be celebrating 25 years of business in 2018 and, during the opening video, our founder Patty Brisben reflected on the beginnings and on the changes she has seen in the business and what it was like starting out. Her husband left her and their children because he wanted a wife who was more successful. (And all I can think is, "How you like me NOW?") She was broke. She was scared. She got involved in a business where she was shunned by mothers and other women. And she kept going. She kept going and she now heads a $200 million empire.

That piece was inspiration in itself, but she continued. She said how thankful she is that, as consultants, we are changing the lives of women every day. We empower them. We teach them about sexual health. We encourage them to do all of the things that our current administration is against. She got emotional and I did too.

Because it hit me. I am exactly where I need to be to Make a Difference. I don't necessarily need to protest, although I'm sure I will at times. I don't have to sign up for every single event involved with my political party. I can just focus on the parties I have with women. The conversations I have with them. The education I provide that so many hundreds of them have been lacking. We talk about consent and communicating what we want and how to get it. If women can do that in the bedroom, which is one of the hardest places to use one's voice, then they can learn to do it outside the bedroom too. They speak up not just for themselves, but for other women as well. I can affect change one conversation, one sale, one party at a time. This is it!!!

When we hear about women's health, we often think of abortion or breast cancer, but it's much more than that. One of my teammates went to a class on menopause. Yucky topic, I know. It doesn't feel good. Hot flashes aren't comfortable. While some women look forward to it, others feel like they're less womanly. There is a gamut of emotions and physical symptoms and very little research being done or treatments being offered, considering how complicated this transition can be. The Patty Brisben Foundation is the only one of its kind to focus on this issue, as well as cancer treatment and its effects and research on these and other reproductive issues.

What I need and what I want has been in front of me this whole time. It's usually that simple, isn't it? If we just open our eyes. I went to classes about leadership, sponsoring, common sexual problems, sexual health information, motivation, time management, money management, and a future leader training. And yet this was the biggest lesson that I learned. It's so freeing to now have this direction and this focus.

If this is something that you want to do, I can help you with that. I'd be overjoyed to welcome you into this community where I have gained so much. I'm going to do all that I can to give that back.

If there is no part of you that wants to use your voice this way, I understand completely. Like Patty said, it isn't easy with so many naysayers. However, I still encourage you to Do Something. We have a long way to go to undo a lot of the damage that has been done and we need each other out there in may other areas and forums. I can direct you to those areas as well. Just please be involved because it's too important not to be.

Partying With Women Who Sell Vibrators

This past week I attended my second Pure Romance conference, this time in Orlando. If you've ever wondered what happens when more than 3,000 women who sell vibrators get together, take a seat. It's a lot so I'm going to have to break it up over two posts.

I also must note that I resisted going to this one. My best friend had joined in the previous year or so and we attended our first conference together. I didn't want to go without her. She was my crutch as well as my partner in crime. What I learned over the last few days is that I can love my business in my own way and that's okay and I don't need her joined at my hip to know that I have her support. We grow the most when we like it the least and I ended up being exactly where and when I needed to be.

Day One.
I have another job so I left at noon and arrived in Orlando in time to take a shower, adorn my non-bridal white dress and hit the South Beach White Party. I missed opening session where our fearless and fabulous leaders Patty Brisben and Chris Ciccinelli speak. Boo.

The dress code for the White Party was all white. Self-explanatory, but harder to shop for than you would think. It actually looked beautiful - a whole room of white with pink lighting. And let me tell you, Pure Romance knows how to throw a party. There were 22 bars inside the dance room alone!! Let that marinate. Dinner was provided along with the first couple of drinks and then we danced all night!

I somehow managed to lose everyone in the groups I was hanging out with so I hung out in the area above the dance floor and that's where I met my first friend for the week. Audrey is from Oregon so we had an instant connection. We also had a mutual disdain for all of the girls throwing themselves at the adorable boy guarding the stairs we were next to. Dignity, ladies.

My roommates were still awake when I returned to our room and we stayed up until 1:00 in the morning talking about our businesses and our lives. Pillow talk at its best.

Day Two
This was a day of classes and the first one gave me loads of information that I could use and implement immediately.

I should point out that several of our classes are conducted by fellow consultants. When we say that Pure Romance is a sisterhood, it truly is. Our top consultants freely, willingly, and enthusiastically share with the rest of us what has led to their success. They don't selfishly keep their best tactics to themselves but show the rest of us how it's done. This might be the best thing I like about this company but in another few minutes I'll come up with another favorite.

The next class was a top company star sharing her information. This woman is a star in every sense of the word. She's tall, she's beautiful, she's funny, and last year her team sales were $23 million. Yes, million. A fucking 23 MILLION. I was behind her waiting for the elevator one night and I wanted to touch her dress just to see if some of her magic would rub off on me. Except you don't have to do that when she willingly TELLS you. I'm not sure girl crush covers it.

There were two more classes with doctors who research sexual health and behavior, both of whom I saw last year and present us with tremendous amounts of information. The adorably cute brunette doctor used the "p" word more than once and I would have fallen out of of my chair if I weren't sitting on the floor where my phone was charging.

When classes were over, it was time to grab some lunch and head to the room for a much-needed nap before preparing for formal awards night.

The awards ceremony is an event in itself. It's like a mini-Oscars party. There are categories based on consultant level with awards for those who attained the highest personal sales, group sales, or recruits. There is recognition for those attaining higher levels for the first time. The best and the brightest walk the stage in their glamorous get-ups while the rest of us cheer and celebrate their successes.

If you ever see a consultant post about how this company takes care of them, let me give you an example. One woman stood on stage as a record-breaker for personal sales. Now, she already made money. She made money from her team. I'm sure Chris and Patty sent her flowers during the year. She probably won a trip or two. Most likely a lifestyle bonus every month. It's a nice way to make a living. But right there, in front of everyone, Patti presented her with a personalized Louis Vuitton handbag, designed and made in Paris. Two plane tickets to anywhere in the country. And $5,000 cash. Pure Romance appreciates its consultants and rewards them beyond their dreams.

Once the ceremony was over, we filed out to the waiting banquet tables topped with meat and cheese delicacies, Asian spring rolls and dim sum, salads, bread, lobster pasta (with freaking giant pieces of lobster meat!) and stacks of desserts. We piled our plates, ordered our drinks, and made our way into the ballroom once again.

This time, aside from the multiple bars, there were women performing aerial acrobatics on silks, rings, and one hanging from a chandelier pouring champagne upside down into flutes below.

We ate, we drank, we danced, we drank some more. I ran into my new friend from the night before, met her friend, and once the last song was over, we all went to our room to drink some more and laugh our asses off playing Cards Against Humanity and toying with a Tinder dude until 3:00 a.m.

And it still wasn't over......

Empowerment. Education. Entertainment.

I've been trying to figure out how to describe this past weekend without emotionally vomiting all over everyone I meet and Saying ALL the Things. I really want to Say All the Things because I love All the Things but I don't want to come across as some sort of zealot. Mostly. Part of me doesn't care. The other part of me is mostly rational. Or possibly overly concerned with how others view me.

I digress.

In a very large nutshell....

Last Thursday the bestie and I went up to Cincinnati for a little thing called Pure Romance National Training. I had been looking forward to it for months. Actually, for nearly a year and a half. All of the girls who had been before told me repeatedly that it was life-changing and inspirational and the cornerstone of being a consultant. So, naturally, I wanted some of that.

The first 24 hours wasn't life-changing. It was mostly confusing. It was a lot of elevator rides. In a very old hotel with very old elevators. Slow, shaky elevators. Not for the anxiety-ridden. I'm not even going to mention how tiny the hotel room was, except to say that one of us had to sit on the bed if the other one wanted to walk around the room.  There was a lot of searching for the right information. There was a lot of waiting in line. A lot of escalators. A lot of loud women. Really, really loud women. J and I think we're the loud ones. Usually we are. I now think that some people have never heard of an inside voice. I hope they aren't reproducing.

It wasn't all bad. Just confusing. The classes were educational. Pure Romance works with pretty much the best doctors out there. They aren't just cranking out dildos and vibrators, but putting thought into why women use what and how and why relationships last and the ways in which all of that can be enhanced. We heard from some doctors who are well-researched in sexual behavior. As a former psych major, I found most of it pretty fascinating. It's always interesting to break behaviors down into components and cause and effect and will definitely help me in my business.

Okay, so education. Cool. But I was 24 hours in and hadn't had my socks knocked off.

Friday night was the opening session with the awards ceremony. Rookie of the year, top consultants, and recruits in each division. Clapping, cheering, yay. I was happy for these women, they accomplished something real, but I was really craving pajamas and a pillow at that point. Until. We get to the smaller section of women who have worked the hardest and the longest. Sixty-one women walked that stage because they made $1 million in the previous year. 61. Sixty. One. One Million Dollars. One of those women had a team who did $7 million in sales in six months. What? Holy shit!!! The cheering was real for them, but it still didn't really touch me. Like, that's great, but what does that  have to do with me? Good for them, they're like Super Women.

Towards the end, Patty Brisben (founder of Pure Romance) walked out to give her little mini-speech and my ears perked up when she told us, "Life doesn't get better by chance, it gets better by change." And then she asked what we're waiting for. Patty herself is pretty inspiring. She's tiny and adorable and built this incredible company that she believes in and it shows. What am I waiting for? What am I putting off?

Patty's son and Pink-Tie Pure Romance CEO Chris Cicchinelli spoke next. He spoke about those 61 women. He talked about how one of them didn't wait for her cancer to go into remission. Another one didn't wait for her addiction to rehabilitate itself. Another didn't wait for her kids to grow up but saved her family from losing their home when her husband was laid off. Story after story of women who have been through more than I have, who didn't give excuses. Who didn't wait to change their lives but went out there and Did It. In spite of what life threw at them. It wasn't easy, it never is, but they did it because the opportunity was there. 

And that sparked something. The leaders in this business are constantly reminding us to remember our "why." Why we do this business. Why we keep at it. Why it's important to us. I still haven't narrowed down the definition of my Why, but that night I remembered why I got into this business to start with. My usual story is something about how I love the products, I love the parties but my friends wouldn't let me do it every month so I said "Screw you guys" and started doing my own parties. Blah, blah, blah. It's so funny. It's also true, but it isn't the whole truth. 

The whole truth is that I wanted to do it but I didn't think I could. Fear said I couldn't. And then D became suicidal. When you are afraid 24 hours-a-day that the person you love most in the world is going to disappear, it shifts your perspective. A fucking lot. When you're afraid to go into her room in the morning because you're terrified she went away while you slept, there isn't that much to be afraid of. When the worst thing you can imagine becomes a near-reality, everything else is so much less scary. So I said, literally, because I'm a potty-mouth, "Fuck it! Let's do this!" And I fell in love with it. 

And then I moved across the country and I got distracted and D was better and everything seemed like such a long time ago that the fear crept back in. So when Patty and Chris asked, "What are you waiting for?" my answer was simple. I'm waiting for the fear to go away. But fear is a bastard. It doesn't leave quietly or of its own accord. 

I sat in that audience listening to them and thinking how brave D had been. How she held onto her life. If she had waited to ask for help, she might not be here. Her depression might have made that decision for her. She didn't wait. That is the worst example I can think of for what can happen if you wait. 

And those 61 women and that $7 million dollars didn't wait either.

Saturday came with exhaustion and sore feet. Not to mention bloated bellies from Not Enough Water. There were also moments of irritability with some of the more obnoxious among the groups. We decided to play hooky from a class to take a long lunch and breathe a bit. I was disappointed that lots of girls played hooky because I thought I was being naughty but it turns out I wasn't so naughty after all. 

And then another magic moment happened. You know it's always when you least expect it, right? You can't plan for it, you can't force it, you can't make it up. 

We saw a homeless man with his sad, dirty little homeless sign. J loves to give money to people who appear to need it. I win brownie points from her when I show compassion in that way. But she wasn't loving it enough to give him $10 that day when she didn't have a smaller bill. And then we saw another man, also homeless, near the first one. This man had a bright, colorful sign that absolutely delighted me and I giggled as I approached him. This man's sign stated, "I like Whipped Rainbow Sherbet." Whipped is the creamy lubricant that comes in delicious flavors. Clearly his favorite is rainbow sherbet. I asked if I could take his picture and he said it would cost me a hundred dollars but he agreed to the $10 that I offered him. 

We talked to him for a minute or two. He used to live near Nashville with his military wife until they got divorced; he's struggling to start over. But, like he said, you have to be creative sometimes. He was wonderful and I won't soon forget him, if ever. Because the picture of and the dichotomy between these two men was so great. Life sucks, it gets hard, and you do what you can to get by. But you can give in and do the bare minimum to get by or you can go out there with your head held high, a smile on your face, and do it differently. With a sense of humor. With courage and creativity. And in a way that makes other people happy. 

Saturday's classes started to resonate with me. I began to hear them through the veil of "what are you waiting for?" Some of my struggle has come from hearing other women talk up their accomplishments and it sounds so easy for them. I get frustrated with where I am in my business when it feels so far from where I want to be. It was invaluable to hear others talk about how long their journeys took. To hear they struggled too. To be reminded that I'm an individual with my own goals and my own quirks and I can't compare those to anyone else. 

Sunday brought the Piece de Resistance. Board. Breaking Ceremony. Whaaaat? Oh, I'll tell you. I will tell you All the Things about this one. 

The whole weekend had been building up to this moment. It sounded important but I felt like breaking a board being a life-changing event was a bit of hyperbole. I mean, really? 

J and I were late. As usual. Four days of sleep required copious amounts of coffee and 3,000 women operating on the same amount (or less!) of sleep makes for long lines at the coffee counter. When we walked in, the guest speaker was telling the story of Teddy Stallard. I've given you the Snopes.com version of this story to tell you that this isn't even a true story, it's a fabrication designed to pull at your heart strings. Plus it's one I've heard before. I knew the whole thing and how it was going to end. And yet, I cried. J cried. Every now and then, through tears, I'd remark something like, "what the fuck?" or "Seriously?" or "Damn it!" What was going on??? Neither one of us had taken our meds that morning so it was a recipe for wads of Kleenex. 

He then talked to us about purpose. About how his purpose is his wife and his two daughters. He showed us their pictures. He asked us what color a yield sign is. Yellow!!! No, red and white. 1100 women were wrong, he probably loved that. He talked about how he saw his daughter differently when she came home from college, how she wasn't the yellow yield sign he'd seen her as her whole life and wondered what else he'd been missing. Fuck if the tears weren't streaming by then. 

He had us do some visualization exercises. A lot of this sounds hokey and it was and it felt hokey at the time and it sounds hokey to me now, but that's all part of it. You do dumb things to get over feeling dumb doing smart things. 

When it came time to break our boards, we gathered in groups of ten. Momma C threatened to kick our asses if we didn't find her so she could be our board-holders so we pushed our way across the room, through a thousand women, until we found her. Besides, we wouldn't have wanted to do it with anyone else. 

We were instructed to write, on one side, the thing we wanted to break through. It could be anything, but only one thing. I chose fear. Because it seems to be the overriding theme of my life. I've been afraid of so many things. Being alone. Speaking up. Being a single parent. Letting go. And yet, when I do the things I'm afraid of, the rewards are so much greater than any feeling of fear. I know this. I know this, but I still let it get in the way. The tattoo I got in Ireland was supposed to be a reminder. It says, in Latin, "Without fear." It's my constant reminder, but a lot of the time it's just ink. 

On the other side of the board, we wrote what we would gain and what we could have if we broke through that one thing. My words were things like success, love, leadership, freedom. And then we wrote the people we wanted to bring along on that journey. I chose only three names. I know a lot of people, but my real circle, my important circle, is very small. 

J and I stood in the circle cheering for the women who went before us. It was exhilarating, there was a powerful sense of support, and a growing feeling of panic and fear. We both said, "What if we don't break it? What if we're the only ones?" Because, the first five or six women to go broke those boards like they were nothing. They made it look so easy. Which meant they were all stronger/better/more successful than I would be. Did I say fear is a bastard? 

The first time someone didn't break her board, my heart broke for her. Because we all knew, simultaneously, what this meant. It may have been for different reasons, we all have our own whys, but it was equally monumental for each of us. That damn board broke on her fourth try. I don't know for sure because it was pretty damn loud in there, but I think I screamed the loudest and hardest for her. Our success was all the same in that moment. 

When it was my turn, I got goofy. I prepared myself for the attempts that wouldn't break the board, for which I would have to laugh it off so I didn't break down. We were told to look at our board-holder's eyes. If you look at the board, you only go that far and you have to look past it to make it to the other side. Momma C moved one of my arms, adjusted the other. She looked right into my eyes, I locked in on hers, seeing all of the trust and support and encouragement I needed. I don't know what happened after that. I didn't feel it. It was just that a second later, she was holding my board in two pieces and I jumped up and down like a crazed kangaroo. I fucking did it!!!!!

Then it was time for J to go. Last. Symbolically. Sadly symbolically. And she didn't break it the first time. I thought if I screamed loudly enough my sheer willpower would break it for her. I wanted it so badly for her. Far more than I wanted it for me. It just didn't happen that first time. She told me afterward that Momma C told her it was okay, that she had more to break through than a lot of people. When it broke on her second attempt, I thought I would lose my mind with joy. I was even past the point of sappy crying. 

She showed me her two pieces and where they broke. On one side it said, "good enough." It couldn't have been more perfect or more appropriate. Her One Thing was "Not feeling like I'm good enough." I don't believe, beyond any shadow of doubt, that this was a coincidence. She is good enough. I've always known it, but I can't believe it for her. She had to make her own breakthrough to literally, physically, see the words telling her that she's good enough. She's more than good enough. 

The piece where my board split is almost as impressive. Yes, I only wrote three names, but I also wrote my team name. Right now that team is a tiny team of two. And I'm okay with that today, but I'm ready to stop waiting and start multiplying it. My team name is two words. My board broke with one name on each side. I looked at J and told her that it's because I need the two of us to accomplish what I want. I don't want to do it without her. 

Sometimes life makes sense. Sometimes it really doesn't. It seemed like life got in the way last year. I moved the weekend before training so I wasn't able to go and I was pretty disappointed. I know now that I was meant to go this year. I was meant to share All the Things with J. That epiphany hit me just before she hit that board the second time. Powerful? A little bit. 

So, inspirational? Yeah. Life-changing? Hell yeah. I broke a damn board. That's not to say that the next morning I loved and accepted my bloated belly or I rushed home to quit the day job that pays the rent. I'm not going to solve the climate change problem. I don't have the money to hop the next plane to Greece. It's more like the flutter of a butterfly wing. My direction has shifted. The things I wanted before I want more now because I know that they're possible. I have this experience, this memory, I have All the Things to hold in my heart. 

Which is where it all starts anyway, right?