The One Thing That Separates The Successful From the Unsuccessful

It’s possible that I’m obsessed with success. I talked about what makes a book successful last week and the joy of not finding early success the week before. I wrote a collection of stories called How to Be Successful by F*cking Up Your Life. I like to surround myself with successful people.

I come by this honestly: success was my family’s love language. The only way you could be loved was by finding it (I, unfortunately, couldn’t find it until after I’d done the work in therapy to discover the insanity of this paradigm).

In my obsession with success, I’ve noticed one thing that separates the successful from the unsuccessful.

It’s not having the right education or nepo-baby ish last name.

It’s not about working hard versus being lazy.

It’s not about intelligence, financial status or looks.

It’s really so simple.

Over and over and over again.

It sounds obvious, yes? It is!

But it must bear repeating because I see so many people frustrated by their lack of success when the answer is right in front of them.

I know someone who is pretty much smarter than everyone else around her. She’s a fantastic writer. Her education is beyond impressive. She desperately wants to be successful; you could say her entire personality is comported around that desire.

And yet she won’t do the one thing—the only thing—required.

She won’t put herself out there.

This person desperately wanted a traditional publishing deal. When someone helped her get a big New York agent, she thought she’d made it. But when that agent tried to sell the book and couldn’t, this person never tried again and instead silently shelved a book she’d worked on for decades.

She believes she put herself out there but she didn’t. Putting herself out there would have meant submitting to 200 more agents and if that didn’t work, trying an alternate path to publishing. Then writing five more books or building a business from that first book.

I know someone else who isn’t that great a writer. I think he’d admit it. He’s not the best speaker in the world; the one time I saw him speak live, he had to read from notes and looked more like someone being forced to give a eulogy or a best man speech than a paid entertainer.

And yet when he decided he wanted to write a book, he cold called every agent he could until he got a deal. He’s now published three books and is flown all over the world to speak.

(I know these examples are both about traditional publishing, a topic I tend to rally against, but they’re the best examples I know to illustrate this point.)

Here’s the thing: the people I know who struggle to put themselves out there believe that putting themselves out there is more painful for them than it is for other people.

But it’s not.

Putting yourself out there is painful, period.

We all, on some level, cringe. 

But we do it anyway.

You know you’re doing it when you feel uncomfortable. Just like any muscle in your body, the putting-yourself-out-there muscle feels terrible when it’s weak. You’re wincing and sore afterwards. It doesn’t feel that great the second and third time either. But by then you’ve experienced the pain and the wince and the soreness and you know this must be worth it because why else would everyone do it and besides, you did get at least a tiny reward from the first time or you wouldn’t be back.

And then you keep going and going and one day, to continue with the gym analogy, you’re either a weightlifter or at least someone who works out.

In other words, you build a muscle by working it until you’re not uncomfortable anymore or you’re so used to the discomfort that you barely notice it.

 So what does “putting yourself out there” even mean?

It depends on who you are and what you want.

Maybe it means posting on social media.

Maybe it means pitching yourself to podcasts or asking friends with podcasts to have you on.

Maybe it means asking people to review your book.

Maybe it means asking people if they’ll hire you or work with your company. Or if they know people who will.

Maybe it means joining a mastermind.

Maybe it means asking to give a talk at a mastermind.

You know you’ve found it if the thought of it terrifies you.

What it doesn’t mean is continuing to write day after day without a plan. What it doesn’t mean is taking class after class but not creating something from what you’ve learned. What it doesn’t mean is waiting for people to find you. What it doesn’t mean is assuming that if you build it, they will come.

Maybe in 1989 when Field of Dreams came out, they would come.

Today they won’t.

And that’s a good thing because if they came, there’s no assurance they’d come back if you needed them again.

If you put yourself out there in front of them, on the other hand, you’re in the driver’s seat. When you need more readers or clients, you can simply put yourself out there again.

Because you did it before, your muscle will be stronger.

You’ll be able to wince, take a breath, fight every fear that tells you that putting yourself out there might kill you and do it anyway.

We’re only on this planet for a short time. Why not make the most of it while we’re here?

The world deserves to see you so it can relish in your wonderfulness. But it will never know about you if you don’t step into your greatness.

See you out there.