on the corner of Boylston and Berkeley Street, you would have seen a terrified-looking woman sitting in the corner pretending to drink a cup of coffee, but really just fidgeting with her clothes and staring awkwardly at her own résumé.
That was me.
I was camped out inside this coffee shop because I wanted to deliver my résumé to my (hopefully) future boss—and I wanted to do it face to face. I figured I’d make an extra good impression if I walked up to hand it to her in person instead of emailing it like everybody else. (Plus, this would spare me the agony of wondering if she’d gotten it, should she neglect to reply.) I even printed it on fancy, creamy white paper. Very profesh.
I was applying for a job at exhale (all lowercase, no uppercase E, because they’re cool and stylish like that), one of the top fitness, wellness, and spa companies in the country, not to mention the home of one of the most authentic Lotte Berk-based workouts in the industry (Lotte Berk was the dancer who originally created the fitness movement now known simply as “barre”). They’re known for their elegance, attention to detail, and elevated aesthetic—down to the state-of-the-art lockers in the changing rooms and the upscale products in the showers. They’re like the Ritz Hotel of fitness: swanky and luxurious.
I remembered having met a few instructors from exhale back when I was working on being certified to teach barre classes. It was like meeting a group of cool, impossibly beautiful cheerleaders from a fancy private school. The exhale instructors were just so…pulled together—the top of their industry, the crème de la crème. Even though I was just a newbie barre instructor, I knew that one day, I wanted to be one of them.
But first, I needed to get hired.
I wore my very best (purchased on super-clearance, or else I couldn’t have afforded them) pair of lululemon yoga pants (also too cool for any uppercase letters) that day, trying to look the part. There was a particular manager I wanted to meet. I knew she’d be finishing up a class in a few minutes. Yes, I’d already checked the schedule; borderline stalker behavior, I know! With a drop-in rate around twenty-five dollars, I didn’t have the money to actually go and take her class, so instead I planned to march up, shake her hand, and hand over my résumé at precisely the right moment.
But first I needed to, you know, leave the Starbucks. That was proving to be more difficult than I’d imagined. I was sweating despite the frigid air conditioning, and panicky thoughts kept racing through my mind. “I’m not qualified.” “I’m not a good enough instructor.” “Maybe she’ll be annoyed that I bothered her.” “Oh my God, everything is riding on this. I need this job.” “If they say no to me, what then?” At that time, barre had only a cult following and there were very few options for barre teachers, aside from opening a studio, which I was nowhere near ready to consider.
I was in a precarious financial situation, just barely scraping by as a part-time barre teacher at a different studio in the suburbs. To support myself and my kids as a single mom, I knew I needed a full-time job. A real job. And I knew that working at exhale would mean working with the best of the best. I sensed it could put me on the path to success. On so many levels, this would be a huge upgrade for my career.
After stewing and breathing heavily and jostling around my now-cold cup of coffee for another ten minutes or so, I finally stood up. I walked outside, made my way into exhale, plastered an “I am so confident!” smile on my face, and handed over my résumé. If this was a scene in a movie, the most over-the-top, triumphant music would have been playing, with trumpets, tubas, and swelling violins. Because for me, this was a seriously ballsy move. I felt so courageous, so proud of myself.
The manager looked surprised to see me, but friendly, and thankfully my enthusiasm seemed to pay off, because I got the job! Eventually, I was even promoted to manager, exactly the kind of advancement I had hoped for. Working at exhale was a huge professional victory for me: it opened the doors for so many things and boosted my credibility and confidence tremendously. I even became an “ambassador” for lululemon, which meant free clothes and fancy photo shoots I couldn’t have afforded otherwise that helped me to gain greater exposure. All of this later paved the way for me to launch my own fitness company, Barre & Soul.
You could say it all started in that Starbucks. The turning point was the moment I decided to take a risk—the biggest risk I could possibly muster at the time, which for me, meant standing up, walking into a building, and handing over a piece of paper to a woman I didn’t know. Today, I’d like to think doing that wouldn’t stress me out at all—no big deal! But at that point in my life, it felt terrifying.
That’s the thing about setting goals and taking risks. What feels like “a huge goal” to you might feel like “no big deal” to someone else, and vice versa. And what felt “big and scary” to you ten years ago might feel like “no sweat” today. The key is to keep taking the biggest risk you can stand right now, because that’s the only way to keep your life moving forward from wherever you are toward bigger things. When we risk nothing, then nothing changes.
Throughout this chapter, as we discuss your personal and professional goals, I urge you to keep asking yourself, “What do I really want?” and, “What’s the biggest risk I could handle right now—a risk that would allow me to move a little closer to my goal?” Please, please do not underestimate the power of one small step.
If you feel scared—if you get butterflies in your stomach just thinking about your next step—good. That’s a sign that you’ve chosen a worthy goal. Conquering this goal will upgrade your life, for sure. It’s OK to be nervous the way I was—the way I still am, all the time. Finish your coffee, stand up, and just go for it.
Don’t Have Any Exciting Goals? Ask Yourself What Makes You Feel Envious
Feel like you don’t have any exciting goals right now? There’s nothing on your vision board? Not even a single New Year’s resolution? Nothing that you’re striving for? Nothing at all?
Well, let’s start with this question: What makes you feel envious?
Do you feel envy when you see people on Instagram posting photos of their fun beachside walks, yoga classes, brunches, and adorable Boston Terriers?
Do you feel envy when your friend announces that she’s taking yet another international trip with her partner while her kids are away at summer camp?
Do you feel envy when you bump into a former colleague and she mentions that she recently started her own business, or that she’s written a book, or that she bought a new house, or that she’s delivering a TEDx Talk next week?
Or maybe seeing a woman wearing a seriously cute outfit sends you into spirals of envy. You glance down at your frumpy sweatpants and sneakers that you don’t even like, and you wonder, “Why can’t I ever look like that?”
Envy has a bad reputation. We’re taught that envy is an intensely negative thing—that we should suppress it, brush it aside, be ashamed of it, and certainly not talk about it publicly. But that’s not how I think about envy. I think envy is an extremely valuable emotion. It’s a crystal-clear signal that there’s something you want. It’s like a spotlight, illuminating what your next project or goal could be. Envy isn’t a curse—it’s a gift.
I believe the main reason icky sensations come into play when we’re feeling envious of someone else is because we don’t believe we have—or can have—the thing that we want. But if you can start noticing and sitting with this uncomfortable emotion rather than running away from it, you might realize that maybe you can have what you want after all. There’s room to explore and create something amazing.
Whenever I feel envious, at
