I wrote this post more than a year ago. I never posted it. Maybe I was afraid to offend the sweet soul that nominated me. Maybe I got busy with the work. I discovered this forgotten draft when sitting down to write a different, related post. I am still uncomfortable with how much this focuses on myself. More than a little worried that it sounds like a humble brag. But I can’t get away from the fact that there is some heart here that might be worth sharing. So here goes nothing...
I recently received an email that someone nominated me for an award as a creative industry professional who is “… making waves through their hard work, determination and creativity in their respective industries.” The email continued, “…we wanted you to know that someone believes that the work you’re doing empowers others and is making a lasting impact on the world!”
While flattered I do not actually check off the eligibility boxes.
I am not making changes to the floral or wedding planning communities; not creating the next trendsetting style. Nor am I advocating for creative industry policies or fighting for causes. I will never be a household, or even an industry name.
This isn’t some false humility or a humble brag. As a volunteer leader for the local chapter of that awarding organization I saw the promotional materials for this contest and know what they are looking for.
That same position is likely what got me nominated; but even that position isn’t an endorsement. I gained the leadership role by being one of the only regularly attending warm bodies in the room when the prior leader resigned.
This sweet but unqualified nomination got me thinking about my actual goals and the idea of quiet living.
Yes, I love to see my little, local creative community thrive.
I’m passionate about women seeing their worth. I can get on a soapbox about all people—“creative” or not (that’s another soapbox)—growing and maturing in their skills and contributing good work to the world.
But, all this manifest itself in relationships. Long talks over coffee. Texts and DMs. Friendship on a very small, very local scale.
When the selection committee visits our local chapter’s Facebook group, they will not find much interaction. The connection that does take place is in our small monthly meetings.
They won’t see me addressing or educating the industry on my website. When they visit my Instagram, they aren’t going to find a platform for industry causes or posts about activism.
Much of what I care deeply about can’t be found on my public–or even private–online profiles.
My website and my marketing are intentionally client focused. Clients who in turn enable me to transform beautiful flowers and celebrations into monetary contributions to our family’s livelihood. Clients, who when they trust me with their biggest life events, enable me to juggle career and children more on my terms than a traditional career path allows.
But, in that process I also aim to help my clients see a little of their beauty and worth. It is my intent to help them more fully enter the joy of their day, focusing on what truly matters with less stress and distraction. My “platform” isn’t about me, it’s about who I serve.
I’m not a poster girl. Just a girl–ehm, maybe “woman” is more accurate term for my age?– quietly living and working in my little corner of this big state, in this big world. Struggling to keep my eyes on my own paper; to embrace growing slowly until my business reaches my “just right” size. Trying to balance relationships and my workload. Endeavoring to serve well and live a quiet life working with my hands and my heart.
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