It should have been a hard decision, but it wasn’t. I was about to continue my trend towards working at smaller companies—starting at Citicorp with over 200,000 people to successive companies with employee counts of nearly 100,000, then 300, then 30, and finally a company of one.
I was going solo.
At my last company, I had been told to go “f*ck” my husband when I didn’t want to have a social dinner with my boss’s boss. I had suggested lunch, so it wasn’t a flat “no.” A week before, he had shared his experience in a lewd-sounding chat room where he enjoyed some suspicious fun. And it was at work!
So when I said, “No, thank you,” he replied, “Go f*ck your husband.”
I said, “Thank you. I think I will.”
Of course, had it only been this one craven, cringy senior manager, I would have had to think about my decision to go solo, but it was a whole team of like-minded men. They were all sick in various ways.
Piling onto my frustration, that same week, I was stuck in a traffic jam as I headed home due to the motorcade of then-President Bill Clinton. I arrived one hour late to pick up my kids. There they were, on the front curb of the school, waiting for me. They were fine, even cheerful.
I was not.
That night, I announced to my husband it was time for me to start a new chapter.
“I’m ready to go solo. I’ll fish for myself, find clients, be the boss of me, and remove myself from the insanity of a horrible, degrading work culture.”
This was 2001, and me-too hadn’t been recognized as a problem, but boy, did I have stories I could tell.
I gave three months’ notice because we were in the middle of a launch, and I didn’t want to leave them stranded.
Then, I walked out — but only after talking to a lawyer who questioned me because the company’s head of HR, a woman, had filed her own discrimination lawsuit. After talking to me for less than ten minutes, the lawyer had heard enough. A nice settlement for the HR chief followed.
I was glad, but the irony didn’t escape me that she was suing her company, which she supposedly managed, for the way it treated women.
In 2001, “SizeRight Marketing” was born with a not-so-clever tagline:
“The right size for growing companies.”
I secured a few clients courtesy of my network. I created a trifold describing my services, built a website that would never pass muster today, and went to work.
I developed some new skills — primarily in the area of contracts and negotiation — and learned that being your own boss meant you need a boot in one hand to kick yourself in the butt, and a pompom in the other, to cheer yourself on.
I learned that roller coasters are more fun than carousels if you can stomach the inevitable ups and downs.
Over the years, I have been a resource for others contemplating a similar decision. I explain my journey in terms of:
What going solo has given me?
What going solo has cost me?
I’ve had opportunities to be hired by my clients as an employee, and with gratitude, I’ve declined.
Here’s my scorecard, which I’ve shared. I am aware it might seem dated, given today's climate.
What going solo has given me.
Freedom.
The chance to make my own decisions and my own mistakes.
Healthier living.
Better family time.
Professional growth because, except for my husband, who serves as my technologist, accountant, and contract reviewer, I have no one to lean on.
Some great boom years.
What going solo has cost me.
The lack of a “team” — when teams are high functioning, work is fun. My only team experience now was playing women’s club tennis.
Financial anxiety because sometimes clients hold tight to their purse strings and delay or cancel projects. The bust years are painful and inevitable if you do this long enough.
No “end of year” bonus. In my boom years of solo consulting, I could call my upswing a bonus, but really, I just squirreled it away for the downturn that would be ahead.
I will not glamorize my experience of going as small as possible in business.
It worked for me and my family. It kept me healthier and positive.
It reminded me that I deserve all credit and responsibility for whatever I do, but I should always give total credit to my clients. It’s what I call “the client as hero doctrine,” which is my first commandment of solo consulting.
I’ve learned that the equipment needed for this run is a roll of Tums, a boot with a pointy toe, and some pompoms. You’ll need them all.
You will sometimes feel inclined to sing,
“Nobody loves me. Everybody hates me. I’m gonna go eat worms.”
But you won’t. You’re just at the bottom of the rollercoaster.
Grab a dog or a family member or both for a hug and keep on truckin’.
Wow ! How brave you have been ! I am so impressed with your insight, fortitude and courage. Standing up for yourself and building your own life is what being a bada$$ is all about. This should be published in all women's magazines. Right on !
I resonate with so much of this, Jill. I was a freelance trainer for over ten years. It's a tough balancing act between how small you want to be and how much you need to grow (e.g, your portfolio) so you survive. But once you do let go of the safety nets of full-time employment, you realise this is life: no guarantees, security is an illusion.