Happy Anniversary to Me

May 2007 marked the official beginning of my life as a self-employed copywriter and an entrepreneur.

As I look back on the year, I’m struck by how much I’ve done, how far I’ve come and how truly exciting this new life is.

Referrals and repeat clients are now keeping me solidly booked as a writer. My Craigslist advertisements are refined to such a point that I pick up new clients each week. At networking events and in the community, I’ve learned not to introduce myself as a copywriter (a title which means absolutely nothing to the average person), but as the person who “translates business owners’ passion and vision into marketing messages that sell.” Today, instead of leaving networking events with nothing but pockets full of business cards, I leave with new clients.

As spring arrived, Maternitique blossomed as well. Persistence in marketing paid off. And so has my commitment to constantly improving it and seeking excellence. Through seeking feedback, studying page view trends, analyzing conversion rates and identifying my most effective lead sources, I’ve discovered ways to make the store more appealing, more effective at converting browsers to buying and, most importantly, to make it speak to the consumers I’m trying to serve. While there is still not enough business to make the store a raging success yet, the “trends are in the right direction,” as my boyfriend reminds me.

What amazes me the most about all of the lessons I’ve learned and exciting achievements I’ve accomplished in just one year, is just how far a distance it is from where I started. What began as a hope and a dream—to be self-employed as a writer—has become reality. The company that began as a fantasy—a place where modern, professional women can go to feel beautiful and nurtured as mothers—now exists and is growing exponentially.

Wow.

Creating these entities was, and is, a process. It came step by step, moment by moment. First, I had to exit the “rat race”—to be willing to leave the most traveled road. I found signs posted by others on this independent pilgrimage and followed them, putting my faith in their advice. Then came the hard part: staying the course and trusting my own sense of direction when things didn’t seem to be looking like I’d expected them to.

This week, I had dinner with a colleague and shared the snapshot of my endeavors with him. When I was done, he asked: “What are you going to do in the near future? What’s next?”

“Continue.”