I don’t consider myself a strong salesperson anymore.
I used to. I used to be proud of my skill. I used to think I was a closer among closers. (Big whoop – closing doesn’t matter).
Maybe I’m in the top 5% (best case) but that’s not worth much. Most of the people in an organization are not worth much.
I had a skill nobody needs. Winning the hustle, the grind. The chase. It’s an addiction. Most salespeople have some skill, some flair, and some personality. The people that gravitate towards a job that tolerates them: hey may be otherwise unemployable.
There is something special about almost every salesperson – from the telemarketing numbskull selling you magazines, to the corporate guy selling CDN bandwidth. Salespeople have some spark of the devine. The enhancement that fuels both artists and addicts. The colorful characters are wonderful to behold.
I was a colorful character, and I was at the top of my group. Problem was, I was in a really, really shitty group. Literally more DUIs than occupational licenses. And, you get to know these people so you don’t think they are so bad. Then you get mired in your group, and you soothe your soul by saying “hey, I’m better than those losers.”
I can’t play basketball worth a damn . But, if you group me with a bunch if 8 year olds, I guarantee you I’ll dominate like Wilt Chamberlain.
I was in the wrong group, comparing myself to the wrong caliber of people, the wrong set of ambitions. I thought I was great, but I was great when compared to a cohort of people that were failing at life.
Almost everyone in the FIRE industry is not what we’d generally know as a top performer. The whole industry works, but its not leveraged, it’s high stress. It’s not a good life/job. I’m not the best sales guy ever. I’m a level one. And I’m aware of that and I’m going to level up.
Time to help as many people in as many channels as I can. Time to ditch habits that don’t support me. Time to win.