I used to audition for a living. It wasn’t my job, but it was essentially my job, Reader.

Bus to NY. Fly to LA. Drive to Center City, Philly. Find the casting call. Slate, smile, sparkle. Week in, and week out, from 2009 to 2020.

Every week, I’d get dolled up, walk into some blue-walled room with fluorescent lighting, hand over my headshot, and hope my face, or my height, hair, heart, anything, matched what they were looking for that day.

In the early days, I held my breath with every single audition.

Because it always felt like this one could be it.

The big break.

The callback.

The yes that changed everything.

Until I realized that pressure was killing my performance.

Ever the undercover nerd, I decided to look into the data. I found that if I went to ten auditions, I’d book at least one. Maybe not today. Maybe not this week. But the math always worked out.

That shift away from outcome, and toward input, set me free.

I’ve thought about that version of myself a lot lately. Especially now that my calendar is colored by other kinds of rhythms:

• Kid drop-offs
• Meal planning
• Travel schedules
• Teaching schedules
• & constant visits from family (Orlando life = at least one houseguest a month, how *magical*)

Last winter, somewhere between phone rings and Google Calendar pings, I realized the business I’d built fit my old life, but it didn’t fit where I was going. I had to change the plan, not just for my clients, but for me. My outcome matched my inputs, and neither was working for me anymore.

But that’s entrepreneurship, right? Change is the only constant.

On a discovery call a few weeks ago, a woman I admire told me she’d lost nearly six figures in contracts in one quarter.

Pulled funding meant projects canceled, and she had no pipeline to catch the fall. So everything went *poof*.

She wasn’t flaky. She wasn’t inexperienced. She was just relying on the same system I had for years: word-of-mouth + good intentions. Her outputs matched her inputs. I listened to her story and thought, “That could’ve been me.” But fortunately, I’d changed my inputs.

Earlier this year, I stopped perfecting my profile. I stopped writing content just to “be consistent.” I stopped waiting for referrals to arrive like magic money. Instead, I started sending personalized connection requests.

The data nerd came roaring back, so I couldn’t send one or two. A soft reentry would leave me relying on hunches & hypotheses. I sent two hundred personalized connection requests…every week.

These days, it only takes me 38 minutes to grow my network each week. When it’s *finally* over, I exhale, shut my laptop, and gift myself an uninterrupted episode of Real Housewives.

But the biggest gift is, I don’t feel stuck anymore. That 38-minute sprint gives me something I hadn’t had in months of creating content. I now have momentum I control.

Each week reminds me I can do hard things, even if only for 38 minutes. I can rip the band-aid off and expose my business to fresh air. I can build a system that doesn’t rely on my mood, my muse, or the market. Because my business, like my body, needs oxygen, and consistent outreach is the blood flow.

So now, I treat it like weekly meal prep. It’s a simple ritual that ensures I’m well-fed all week long.

People ask me how I keep it up week after week.

And the truth is, it’s clarity that keeps my squirrel brain in check.

I live in Notes apps, calendars, and searchable voice notes. Which means, I don’t ask the same question twice, not just because I’m efficient, but because I’m full. Full of people, plans, logistics, love, and layers. And if I don’t get clear, I drown.

So I built a system that works the same way.

I have clarity, not just for my audience, but for me. Because when I don’t have to think about what to do next, I show up better. When outreach isn’t an open-ended affair, it becomes more practice than pressure.​

Like a warmup.

Like an audition.

Like showing up for the thing that will lead me to my next big break, even if I don’t book the job today.

So if you’ve been stuck in the loop, waiting, avoiding, wondering if it’s “the right time,” let this be the reminder.

You don’t need the perfect offer. You don’t need a viral post.

You need clarity.

You need a rhythm.

You need a plan that serves you, not just your audience.

Because your outputs reflect your inputs.

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14422 Shoreside Way Suite 110-142, Winter Garden, FL 34787
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