Sacrifice for the Dream

“You can only be great at the thing you sacrifice for the most.” - Maya Angelou

I’ve sacrificed to be an entrepreneur. In fairly traditional ways, even.

I had no money, I had no food, a bedroom with no carpet, no car. I let go of everything. I decided that if I was to do this thing, ride this wave, that I would need to go all the way. I’d need to take the time to make sure I was putting all efforts into becoming the person I wanted to be. I wanted to make a concerted effort on behalf of my dreams.

So, penniless and hungry I did what I had to do. I fought through not having. I started with a dream of having my own business. That dream is why after 2+ years in NYC with an office and a window and a title and a salary, I left.

Then I found my idea. I found my problem to solve. I found Sin City Socialites, my former venture. I spent every waking moment working on building a business, and for a while it worked with me. I was happy. I was zoned in. I was following my gut. That was until I wasn’t the only one who had to approve those gut feelings. You can only go so far if you’re part of a team. Especially if the team keeps stopping.

The wheels stopped spinning-my gut wasn’t enough.

It fell apart.

There was a light at the end of the tunnel, and if we held out for long enough we’d find our dream.

Yet, we weren’t there. We hadn’t made it, and there was no full effort to continue it. I couldn’t continue. It was time to face the failure.

When Sin City Socialites ended, it sucked. It just sucked. It took the wind out of me. I didn’t know how to deal with this particular dream ending. I knew there would be a way I could have similar results doing something different. I was just unsure how to move ahead. Grieving about it was a whirlwind.

Alongside was played the pain of poverty. All this work, and now…nothing. Nothing on both accounts. The sacrifice hadn’t yielded a sustainable life, nor did the dream materialize. Most of the time, I actually tried not to feel the pain of poverty. When it all hit, when it all came tumbling down, when lawsuits from unpaid debt came in-I collapsed. I struggled to crawl out of the hole for months. I burdened everyone around me. It was painful and lonely. Telling people to believe in me appeared moot. I had been on a path that led to seemingly no where and I couldn’t pivot in a way that released the burden. I felt guilty, I felt ashamed. My confidence was at an all time low. I know, it would be unfair to have a blog about my business without addressing these horrific moments. It was completely un-pretty. Totally ugly and the failure was almost insurmountable.

In the collapsing of it all, I was sad. It’s hard, no matter how positive, to come off failure elated.

I thought I needed to concede and “find a job.” I applied for many. I went through interviews. I got offers. I was miserable. Which “job” should I settle for, I wondered?

I found myself was more uncomfortable than before. I was in pain physically. I was mentally struggling. I was feeling less and less like there was a spark of life left.

I worked at Nordstrom for 4 days until the weight of working this way tore me apart.

I burst out, I couldn’t do it, I quit. I’ll never be happy working in this capacity. It could never fulfill who I am.

I had to wake up to who Lauralie Lee Ezra is.

A longtime friend of mine and muse, Julie Youngblood had me over for dinner. I was elated at our reunion. A woman who I’ve looked up to since I was 14. As soon as she had me in front of her, she bitchslapped my emotional stronghold.

“What is going on with you? Can you stop being this person already and be you?”

Her plan the entire time was to shake me out of the funk, to make sure she knew that others were waiting for me to step it up. She let me know my failure was winning and told me:

“I know you, Lauralie. How about I tell you I don’t think you can do it? Will that piss you off enough to do it?”

Maybe it was exactly what I needed.

I woke up.

I decided Julie Youngblood was right, as usual. If the poverty was here, the only thing I could do was fight for my dream. There was more misery in not doing it and being depressed and crushed under it than there would be to go ahead and forge on. I could not risk completely losing myself.

I asked my support system to hold on for a little longer. If they had faith in me, then perhaps they’d bless me with a little belief and a little time. I had to fight through this horrible mess of finances and use my voice, my strength, my optimism to pull me out. I’ve had to borrow money, borrow clothes, hustle to find rides. But the resolve to live the dream would pull me through, I knew it.

I’m blessed to have the opportunity to follow my dream. Blessed that I was tested. Blessed that I failed. Blessed that I could get out and get living again.

Daily, I need to fight for this dream. There is no time to waste. The time is now.

When I scored my first big client I was still feeling these pangs of poverty- of fighting this dream with, really, the skin on my back. But that’s the thing about momentum... once it begins, once the tipping point hits, once the “big break” breaks, the poverty doesn’t matter. In fact, it only took one big client. One, big, wonderful gig to change my life.

At the time I got this client I had $1.86 in my bank account.

I did plenty of free, plenty of giving-away. And then, I finally got what I deserved. I gained a client who I would work my ass off for, and it changed my life, rose me out of poverty and put me into the place to be who I have been wanting to be.

It didn’t stop with one.

Crowd Siren is growing up so fast. Months ago she was a baby and I can’t believe how big she’s getting. I’m letting myself deserve it, because really, I was poor, and really, I am finally following my heart.

So, if you’re broke, if you have holy socks, if you have to change lunch dates to coffee dates, if you need to find rides, if someone else has to buy your dog food, then work your ass off to make it not be so anymore. Even if your friends call you out and challenge you.

During the worst of it, I almost settled. It brought me to the lowest of low. It made me realize who I am deep inside had to be set free. It was my darkest hour, and from it came a new desire to be better than I’d ever been. Work harder, fight longer-and it worked. In the end, who I was always supposed to be came out from under the poverty and I learned more from failing than I would have had it all been rainbows and butterflies.

So now you know why it’s emotional business. Because, for the most part, this shit is crazy.

Going after my dream (repeatedly) was the 2nd hardest thing I ever had to do…