Kristen’s office shone with quiet self-importance. Every surface gleamed. The shelves were lined with awards, and framed photos of team retreats were everywhere.

The expensive coffee machine even did his part, hissing with mechanical confidence.

She liked to think of herself as a modern woman. The kind who built something from nothing. But each quarter, the reports arrived with the same number: $750,000.

She poured herself another glass of San Pellegrino, hoping its sparkling effervescence would give her a little jolt of confidence.

Three years of flat growth and people were starting to notice. That 750k number was uncrackable.

She had fired salesmen and saleswomen and hired others in their place. Their binders stacked like headstones on a shelf behind her.

Each held a plan, a promise, and a map to a country that did not exist.

Of course it was a sales problem, she said. She called it sales. She also called it marketing. She twice called it the economy.

She did not call it herself.

After all, honesty is a luxury. And luxuries are very expensive.

One evening, after a long day of explaining away her own disappointment, she attended a retreat for entrepreneurs.

A woman she barely knew leaned close during dinner and said, “Do you actually believe you deserve to run a million-dollar business?”

It was said lightly, like gossip. The words stuck to her for days.

She thought about how she shortchanged her own ambition. The way she only hired talent she could control, not talent that might challenge her.

She underpaid them as well, only investing once they “proved themselves.”

The problem was never sales. It was safety.

She didn’t build a team of top talent to grow the business, she built one to protect herself from failure.

Her control looked like leadership, but it was fear dressed up in an extremely expensive pantsuit.

The next day, she MFD’d. (Made a f*cking decision)

She wrote the numbers on a whiteboard. Big enough to see from across the room.

$1,000,000.

She called her assistant in. “We’re hiring top sales talent,” she said. “Full salary.” I want the best.

The assistant, only familiar with coupon clipping - looked surprised. Kristen nodded as if confirming something she already knew.

The new hire came. He was sharp. Confident. The kind of person she once avoided because he made her feel small.

They worked side by side. She asked for results and he gave them. But more than that, he gave her permission to expect more from herself.

Six months later, the reports changed.

$1.2 million.

She simply sat in the quiet and let the feeling unfold. She had arrived.

The ceiling had never been made of glass. The limit had always been the shape of her own imagination.

THIS WEEK'S MFD CHALLENGE

Growth always asks for a payment upfront, in courage and self-belief.

Where are you coupon clipping your own potential to feel safe?

Act from abundance. Invest in your business from abundance. The next level of growth already exists inside you.

If you believe it.

Know someone solving the wrong problem perfectly?
Forward this issue to as many people as you want!

Until next Tuesday,

Kevin D. St.Clergy
Author & Podcast Host of Beyond Blind Blaming
Creator of the Blind Blaming Specialist™ Certification