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A Program Guaranteed to Get Referrals 1 Easy Fix to Guarantee More Sales Next Quarter Zapier Is Here to Cut Out the Busywork Tasha Hussey Is Back For More The Not Sexy but All-Too-Common Reason Businesses Get Stuck and Stop Growing
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Trader Joe’s Bucks the Trend
Success Is Right In Front of You, You Just Can’t See It
DON’T GIVE UP
But there was one thing I never dreamed of. I never dreamed of making $150,000 per year and owning a lifestyle business. I never dreamed of retirement. I’ve had and have a ton of friends who are entrepreneurs, and one of the surprising things is that I can’t recall a single person telling me their dream is to stay home all day and not work. I’m sure there are people out there who have that dream, but my suspicion is that, even for those people, if we go back to the first time they dreamed of being an entrepreneur, that is not how the dream started. Why So Many Entrepreneurs Let Their Dreams Die
solution to that hole was a nailed-down piece of plywood. I can’t count how many times I stubbed my toe or tripped on that plywood. When I got a bit older, I moved in with my dad and his wife — my wicked stepmother — who mentally abused us kids for sport. She’d routinely tell me how fat or dumb I was. She’d call me names. And heaven forbid if my dad went out of town (which he often did). When that happened, I’d be stuck working as her slave for 3–6 hours on the weekend, cleaning part of the house only to be told to reclean it, again and again, because it wasn’t good enough. Because I wasn’t good enough. I dreamed of being an entrepreneur and the freedom of riches. I dreamed of the vacations I’d take and the cars I’d drive. I dreamed of the empire I’d build and how, one day, I’d change the world.
As a kid, I dreamed of being an entrepreneur. I had this dream because I desired freedom. (Little did I know, that’s not exactly how it works as an entrepreneur, is it?) Like so many other entrepreneurs, I was very poor growing up. My mom and dad were divorced, and my mom supported my little sister and me on a civil servant’s salary and $300 per month from my dad. We lived in the ghetto, with a swamp cooler in the kitchen to cool the whole house. Our slumlord didn’t like to fix anything. At one point, a spot on the floor in our kitchen rotted, creating a hole. For years, the WE NEED ENTREPRENEURS to keep the economy thriving, to build and grow their companies.
So, all of that begs the question: Why do we settle? Why do we give up on our dreams?
I think the answer is simple. We get beat down, maybe even abused.
Have you ever been abused or taken advantage of by an employee or customer? I have, as recently as
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