Having my birthday / our anniversary occur in the same week definitely makes it easier for my husband to remember. But if he doesnāt, itās a world-class f*ck-up, because it means heās forgotten both.
(His birthday is in February, and I completely forgot until a mutual friend copied me on a āhappy birthdayā text to him. So Iām in no position to throw stones.)
In todayās issue, weāll talk a little bit about business, but youāll also learn:
What you, DBAās badass readers, do for my motivation.
How Iām prioritizing laughter (above all).
And why I might be getting a tattoo of Tonya Harding on my hoo-ha.
God I love her. Source: Tenor
š When in doubt, bet on yourself.
š Have fun with your spouse.
š Create meaning outside of your work life and home life. It will fuel you.
And now ā the story behind why this advice matters. šļø
But firstā¦
For the next few weeks, Iāll be sharing snippets from my new weekly newsletter that helps you write faster, hit harder, and connect the dots between what you know ā and what the world needs to hear. Go subscribe, dammit!
Your origin story should focus on a moment in your life when you experienced a personal transformation. It should answer the question:
š āWhy do you hold your most important belief?ā
Itās NOT your biography.
I was at a publishing conference last year where an author was asked, āWhen did you know you had a book in you?ā.
He replied, āI think everyone has a book in them. And for most people, thatās where it should stay.ā š
So if your story begins with āI was born in Bumtoot, Mississippi in 1973ā¦ā ā thatās not your origin story. Thatās your biography. And unless youāre Benjamin Franklin, nobody gives a shit.
(And no, Bumtoot isnāt a real town in Mississippi. Or anywhere, for that matter.)
But people canāt contain their curiosity when they're teased with a story of an unlikely transformation. And thatās what your origin story should nail.
In last weekās issue of Drunk Writing Advice, I shared three exercises that can help you uncover your origin story. š
This year, I started betting on myself.
Not sure yet whether or not that was a good idea. š¬
Iāve turned down a shit-ton of money in client contracts, and so far, havenāt even come close to raking in what I earned the year before when I was saying āyesā to that sort of work.
Oh shit. Have I made a huge mistake? Source: Tenor
So why have I done this?
Because having clients is pretty much the same thing as having a job.
Youāre operating on their timetable. Youāre responsible for their KPIs. You're navigating their companyās politics. And if they decide to dump you, youāre screwed.
Might as well go get a job with benefits. š¤·
So in the last year, Iāve started doubling down my efforts to amplify my own products. I want customers ā not clients.
What did that look like?
š I started monetizing Drunk Business Advice with my very first sponsor, the prolific Jesus Vargas, founder of LowCode Agency (which you should 100% check out if youāre looking to build custom software for your business).
š I spent more time in Stealth Mastermind, and welcomed some new badass entrepreneurs into our little club. (Want an invite to a free program weāre running next month? Hit reply with an answer to this question: āIf you WERENāT an entrepreneur, what would you be?ā)
š I held my very first 6-week writing workshop with Rebel Scribes, which allowed me to test my writing curriculum on real, live people ā which led toā¦
š I launched my first premium newsletter, Drunk Business Writing Advice!
If you want to give me a birthday present, subscribing to Drunk Writing Advice would make me dance a jig (even though Iām on crutches at the moment). Itās a sight, for sure.
I asked my mom to film this for me. Told her it was for work. She truly doesnāt understand my job. š
As I begin another lap around the sun, Iām going to continue to bet on myself. (Iāve got some interesting creative projects in the works, including Drunk Business Advice: The Book).
And that bet would be boneheaded without the incredible motivation I receive from you ā the badasses who read this newsletter.
Itās your engagement, honesty, trust, and support that keeps me moving forward in business. I canāt thank you enough. ā„ļø
In a rather surprising feat, my highest performing newsletter in the last year was Drunk Business Marriage Advice.
(That was, until Big D*ck Nick came a-swinginā, and smashed every record. But hey, even that story happened to be about my husband. Itās a doozy. Go read it if you havenāt yet.)
So, it would seem that yāall are open to hearing my marriage advice.
Fair warning ā I am utterly unqualified to speak on this topic. Iām not a shrink. Iāve never studied relationships, analyzed successful couples, or even read a single goddamn book about marriage.
And Iāve been divorced. š¤¦
But I am in a pretty happy marriage right now.
While my husband and I have certainly experienced our ups and downs over the last 11 years, the longer we stick it out, the happier we are together. And these days, our marriage is pretty damn blissful.
How the heck is this possible?
I always believed the āhoneymoon phaseā was supposed to be the most euphoric time in a marriage. Thereās newness. Thereās excitement. Thereās young, hot bodies, unshakable optimism, and an entire future just waiting to be written.
Fast forward 11 years ā I can state unapologetically that both of us are fatter, grayer, and gassier than we were back then. And we take far fewer photosā¦
Left: All dolled up for our first anniversary TEN YEARS AGO! Right: A random meetup at the local Singapore food hall with friends⦠8 months ago. š
To top it off, weāre both busier, and have more stress in our lives, than we did in the early years of our marriage.
Youād think those things would wear on our relationship. But they donāt. They strengthen it. Weāre happier than weāve ever beenā
In our marriage, that is. Life is challenging at the moment.
And I attribute this phenomenon to one simple value: fun.
When we started dating, and I nervously met my mother-in-law for the first time, she quietly asked my husband, āKristin seems very smart and successful ā but is she FUN?ā
We chuckle about that now. His mom knew how critical having a fun spouse is to the longevity of a marriage.
So one thing weāve done in recent years is prioritize the fun. I donāt mean by going out and doing āfunā things. Weāre too damn busy. And tired. And bloated. And sore. And we didnāt sleep great last night.
Instead, we prioritize the fun in our everyday interactions. We play jokes on each other. We have funny little rituals. We chat for hours, and relive hilarious moments.
We seek out every opportunity to laugh together.
So even though life is slapping us around right now, and it seems like weāre always too busy, the time we do spend together is, frankly, a f*cking hoot.
Itās been a helluva year.
If youāve been following Drunk Business Advice for a little while, you know that three months ago, I underwent major orthopedic surgery on my hip.
And if that wasnāt chaotic enough, Iāve taken on a ton of extra shit.
š I started working as an advisor in the Harvard Executive program I graduated from a few years ago (it pays pennies, but damn itās rewarding).
š I stepped into a leadership role in our alumni association, which has involved raising an endowed fellowship, creating a community platform, and publishing our very first newsletter.
āøļø And I joined the board of trustees of a 40-year-old NYC ice theatre company.
Why have I taken all this on? Arenāt I already too busy?
Well, yeah.
But I believe our lives should consist of more than just our āwork lifeā and our āhome lifeā.
Community provides us with groundedness. Sports and arts are outlets for passion. So we canāt forget to make space for them.
If anything, those commitments have inspired me to recover. For the last month, Iāve been down in Florida doing water therapy. Iām working hard to build up my strength so I can, ya know, walk again (and hopefully ice skate, too!).
Left: Thanking the doctors and nurses at HSS for their incredible care. Middle: My gnarly scars. Right: Enjoying pool therapy down in sunny Florida.
I donāt have any tattoos, but every time I look down at my scars, Iām inspired to incorporate them into some kind of body art.
And given that I have my figure skating career to thank for this injury, Iād love for my tattoo to represent skating. āøļø
My husband thinks I should turn the long scar into Tonya Harding with a lead pipe, and the two little scars should be Nancy Kerriganās tears. That way, Iāll have the two most iconic figure skaters permanently positioned on my pelvis.
See?
I told you we have fun. š
Cheers! š»
-Kristin
P.S. ā If you enjoyed todayās issue, and want a behind-the-scenes look at how I craft Drunk Business Advice every week, donāt forget to subscribe to Drunk WRITING Advice!