Photo Op

Today was a strange day for me.

I had my photo taken. 

This might not seem that weird or monumental, but for me, it was kind of a big deal. A big deal because it was a big reminder of the difference between old me and this me. 

Here's the story: I run a business-to-business direct mail company. What is that? It's a company that sells stuff to other companies via a catalog and website. So, think about the place where the company you work for orders things like pens and pencils from. Or furnace filters. Or corrugated boxes. 

My company doesn't sell pens, pencils, furnace filters or corrugated boxes, but you get the idea. 

One of the most important things about our company is that we want to be friendly and "known" by our customers. The industry we serve is a fairly small, tight-knit group and they want the companies they do business with to be familiar ... like small-town neighbors. As such, we spend a lot of time at trade shows shaking hands and sharing stories. And we also use our staff as "models" in the catalog. The people that take your order when you call in are in the catalog on the pages where we talk about our outstanding service. The guy who picks out what products we sell shows up on the cover when we're promoting what's new. I hope that makes sense.

Right now, we're in the process of making a special catalog that has a special message. It was determined that the message was best delivered by me. Which means I had to have my photo taken, so I could appear in the catalog. 

Now, I have worked for a catalog company of one sort or the other for 23 years. Employees are cheap models (as in "free") and if you work at one, it's likely that at some point you appear in a catalog. You might be a hand model or your feet might be in a pair of boots. Or if you're really charming or photogenic (not necessarily pretty ... but comfortable in front of the camera), you might be on a cover or in some sort of action shot. 

I have never been in a catalog before. The old me was never asked. And the old me would have been mortified had I somehow been required. 

I would not have been comfortable enough with myself to allow it to happen. And I would have beaten myself up for not being able to do it. 

The new me didn't exactly enjoy the process. And the new me had a really hard time looking at the photo in the layout when the graphic designer brought it to me for my OK this afternoon. 

But I was able to do it. 

I'm still surprised, even after three years, at how old me still creeps into my head and makes me pause every once in awhile. She tries to pick away at my confidence and poke me back down into that dark box where I feel doubt and fear and shame.  

So happy that new, strong me can kick her ass.

I hope if you get tired of letting your Old Me boss you around, you can find a New Me to do the same.