Success Looks Different On Everyone, I Guess

At the age of 62, I finally feel like I’ve found success, and I hope I wear it well. It doesn’t wrap me in the look I’d imagined, however. It feels like quality material, sure, but not ostentatious or high-falutin’ or fancy-pants. (Well, maybe there’s the occasional fancy-pants aspect of it, which I’ll be sure to mention at the end of the story). 

What is Success?

One of the definitions that Merriam-Webster presents for the word “success” is “the attainment of wealth, favor, or eminence.”

My definition of success has always been to live free of poverty. I don’t ask much of success. Just the vision of a life without the constant weight of poverty wrapped around a person’s neck is enough for me to define that life as successful. But of course, there are many ways to define success, and I suppose that makes a big difference in how people view their own lives.

I’m a late bloomer to my version of success, although most people would have assumed I’d been this successful for decades. 

But in every way, WordPress is at the heart of my newfound success, regardless of how or when it happened. 

I’ve told parts of my story before. In that telling of my tale, what you won’t find is any indication that I was poor – miserably poor – throughout most of it. For years, I’ve joked to my family that I’m great at becoming “industry famous” but terrible at earning money at it. At one time, I was one of the premier Cold Fusion developers in the world, though I doubt CF’ers would remember me all these years later. After that, I was a well-known SEO, although I went by a “forum name” at the time, so my name now isn’t recognizable except to those I’m still friends with. And while I wasn’t necessarily ever WordPress-famous, I wasn’t invisible in the community either. 

The main reason I was industry famous each of those times was that I spent a lot of my time in the forums or communities where everyone hung out. In my time there, I gave back every chance I got. I’d generally learned my craft from those same types of communities, so once I had obtained valuable knowledge, I answered questions and helped people learn there. Eventually, I would end up being a moderator in most of those communities.

So if success is defined by eminence, as Merriam-Webster suggests, or the level of recognition you get from your peers, or the amount of respect you earn from those you mentor, then I was very successful throughout much of my adult life. 

Eminence Does Not Equal Wealth

Despite that version of success or what I called “industry fame,” I could never afford to use any “pro” plugins or tools that weren’t free. 

I’ve never owned a copy of Photoshop in my life. (I take that back. A friend gave me a nulled version once – a really old version – but I was too paranoid and “law-abiding” to ever use it). Even though my job as a web designer pretty much required the use of Photoshop, I had to settle for Gimp. Priced at somewhere around $600 (if I remember right), Photoshop was about $599 too expensive for me. If a client handed me a .psd file, I’d ask industry friends who owned Photoshop to turn it into a format I could import into Gimp. Of course, that meant there were many Photoshop files I couldn’t work with at all if I needed to access some aspect of the file that Gimp didn’t support. In those cases, I had to turn the job down.

SEO was made more difficult without money to spend. Paying even $20 for an SEO tool that would make my work easier was never an option. If it wasn’t free, it didn’t happen. Occasionally, I’d get lucky and win the use of a tool during an online giveaway. You have no idea how excited I’d get when that happened. It always felt like I’d won the lottery.

I did attend as many SEO conferences as I could over the years. Industry acquaintances who believed I needed to be there generously paid for some of those conferences. I am forever grateful to those people. Some I managed to scrape up enough money to attend, especially if they were reasonably close to where I lived. 

Where Did I Go Wrong?

So why was I so poor? Why did my version of success elude me for so long? I’m not sure I know all the reasons for that, but I’d like to share some of the reasons that I do know. Some may be helpful to anyone in the same situation; others were personal and unique to me (perhaps).

Let’s start with the most obvious.

Imposter Syndrome. I did graduate from college with a B.S. in English Education. Back in my day, women were expected to do “women’s type of work,” such as teaching. I really wanted to study Computer Science, but the head of the CS department told my mom that it would probably be too hard for me, so Mom convinced me not to do that. (My mom loved me very much, and I’m sure she thought she was saving me from failure or something, but she was wrong to not trust in me). I graduated and never worked as a teacher a day in my life. (At least not in a formal school situation. Most of my life has been dedicated to teaching others how to do things, however). So instead of teaching, I moved to California, worked as a data entry person for years, and slowly began to teach myself how to code. In those days, we didn’t have an internet filled with free courses to learn from. I would occasionally find an old “How to code in Fortran” book, or something similar,  in someone’s garage sale. But no matter how much I learned, I was always missing some sort of fundamental knowledge that I assumed had been taught in formal education. And I always knew I wasn’t as good as all those people who had that education. That prevented me from ever trying to apply for “real jobs” in the IT or future web-related industries. 

Why else did I take so long to get to this level of success? A few reasons:

• Under-charging. Hand-in-hand with imposter syndrome, not charging enough money for services provided was very typical for me. 
• Only Serving Poor People. Just like under-charging, I rarely tried to acquire big, well-paying clients. Of course, my imposter syndrome drove that decision to a large extent, but my own keen understanding of how difficult it was to find success also caused me to have an overwhelming desire to help others do better than me. I jumped on the chance to help someone make their dreams come true, even if they only had $100 to start their business (or less). I would work for peanuts if it meant I could help someone else that didn’t have the means to get help elsewhere. So while imposter syndrome primarily drove those decisions, my desire to help others drove the rest of the way. I had all the knowledge needed to help them learn what they needed to know to succeed, even if I wasn’t succeeding myself.
• Relationship mistakes. When a personal relationship would go bad, I would leave with pretty much the clothes on my back, just to get out of a bad situation without any hassle. Instead of taking the few “valuable” things I might own with me, I would let the abusive partner keep it all. That would mean starting over every time—new furniture, new TV, etc. I could never get ahead because I was always losing it all.

There were a few short, successful moments in all those years. Occasionally, I would land a decent client that would pay the bills for a couple of months, and each of those rare occasions would give me the incentive I needed to continue on. I also managed to create a few decent blogs and affiliate sites that I sold for BIG MONEY ($10,000 or so). That was huge and definitely worthy of the “success” label. But that money didn’t lead to more success. Those sales just allowed me to climb out of the abyss of debt I’d gotten into by then.

And here’s the irony of it all. I had a few clients that I helped make LOTS OF MONEY. Millions, even. And while one of those clients paid me well for about a year (and by well, I’m talking about $2,000/month), most of the time, I got paid a few hundred dollars for my time and advice. 

So there were ups and downs in the money-earning game. The ups encouraged me to continue, the downs were the day-to-day reality.

And Then Came WordPress

My journey with WordPress didn’t immediately bring success, but it made my life of poverty incrementally better with each passing year. Although WordPress initially made my own sites easier to manage and much more engaging, I quickly realized that WordPress was the key to me being able to create websites for others – and charging for it! I soon realized that I could make a better and steadier income by designing WordPress websites than I could at trying to get SEO clients. Of course, WordPress and SEO were co-partners in my career for quite a few years. I could design a site, add in some SEO services, and offer a nice bundle to clients. 

I STILL had the problem of under-charging. That didn’t magically go away overnight, unfortunately. But instead of having maybe 3 or 4 clients a year, I began to get maybe 1 client a month. Small job or not, my income was becoming steadier, and that made a difference. I was poor still – but less desperately poor.

As an aside: 

In the midst of one particular bad relationship, I decided to – finally – utilize my writing skills and write a novel. I imagined this would be the ultimate residual income, right? Write something once, and then live off the sales forever. That might work for the Anne Rices or Stephen Kings of the world, but the reality for people like me is that each book sold nets me around $2, so selling a few hundred (which is typical) means I’d still be poor.

Back to the WordPress story…

With WordPress, I was able to lose my imposter syndrome. I had the same level of WordPress education as everyone else who dived into learning it. They didn’t get “formal education” in WP either. I was playing on the same field, and that gave me the confidence I needed to excel. To be fair, I didn’t need a formal education for either Cold Fusion development or SEO. And yet, for whatever reason, WordPress helped me see that I belonged in a way that those other platforms did not. I don’t know why.

All of my other issues took longer to shed. I still felt the need to work with mostly poor clients. I still felt scared to seek out the large clients. But gradually, very, very gradually, those issues started to fall away, like shedding bits of old skin. 

And to make everything better, I LOVED working with WordPress. I LOVED letting my creativity flow when designing a site. WordPress made my work fun, so even if I wasn’t making a lot of money, I was at least enjoying what I was doing.

Over time, some of that “fame” began to translate into money. I finally allowed myself to take some risks and actually apply for jobs that I would never have applied for in the past. 

If you take nothing else from this story, I hope some of you at least take this to heart.

TAKE THE RISK. Apply for the job or attempt to get the bigger client. Of course, don’t apply for something you know absolutely nothing about. For a job position, don’t assume that you won’t get the job, even though you have the skills and knowledge needed. Instead, give it all you’ve got. Create a kick-ass resume that you edit and refine until it’s perfect. Write a cover letter that showcases why you’d be right for them. Go into interviews prepared. Anticipate questions you’ll likely be asked, and plan out your answers. Be prepared, and take.the.risk. The worst that happens is you’ll not get the job, but you won’t be any worse off than you are right now.

I mention this specifically because taking the risk (twice) is what led me to finally be able to say, “I’ve made it.” I’m a success. 

The first time, I noticed a job opening mentioned in a Facebook group for the WordPress plugin I used for every site I designed. I knew the ins and outs of this plugin better than most. The job description sounded perfect for me (documenting the plugin). My first thought: “Wow, this would be perfect for me.” My second thought: “I’ll never get the job.” My third thought: “Oh hell, Donna, just apply for it. Why the hell not?”. I applied. I got the job. My life suddenly changed. I was no longer living in poverty, but I was still very low middle class, I’d say. Everything was still paycheck to paycheck, with nothing left over to either save or spend. But stability had been achieved.

The second time, I received a LinkedIn message from someone who worked at Automattic, suggesting I apply for a job with them. I. WAS. FLOORED. What??? Automattic? THE Automattic? My first thought: “This would be a dream come true.” My second thought: “There’s no way in hell they’d hire me.” My third thought: “Oh hell, Donna, just apply for it. Why the hell not?”. I applied. I got the job. I AM NOW SUCCESSFUL. Bonus: I get to work with amazing people.

My journey to success took way too long. I hope yours is much, much shorter. Hopefully, something in this story might give someone the push they need to shed some of their old skin, let some of the issues holding them back fall away, leaving them with a tiny bit of confidence to take a risk. To trust just a little more in their own abilities and help them realize they have something valuable to offer. To get the bigger client. To charge a little (or a lot) more. To apply for the job.

• WordPress doesn’t force you to go to college.
• WordPress doesn’t require previous experience.
• WordPress opens doors for everyone.
• WordPress is fun.
• WordPress can be your ticket to success.
• WordPress was my ticket to success.

So I promised I would share some of the fancy-pants bits of success that I’ve obtained. I’ve acquired a lovely home and a nice car. Those are definitely signs of success, but there is one thing that I would truly consider to be “fancy-pants,” and I allowed myself to indulge in it. It was tough to consider myself worthy of spending money on such an item, but I did it.

I used to say that the first thing I’d get if I ever won the lottery would be a live-in, full-time masseuse. I didn’t win the lottery, but I am successful, so I did the next best thing.

I bought myself an expensive massage chair. Yeah, the kind you see in malls? Only this one is even fancier and pantsier than most of those! Specifically, I got the Real Relax Massage Chair, Full Body Zero Gravity SL-Track Shiatsu Massage Chair Recliner with Heat Body Scan Foot Roller from Amazon. It cost me $1600 at the time, though it’s now listed at $1799. I use this daily to relax, de-stress, and work some soreness out of my muscles. 

I still wear jeans or leggings, and mostly conference swag t-shirts, so the way I “wear my success” doesn’t look much different than the way I wore my poverty. But there are signs that I’ve made it. My house. My car. My massage chair. That’s fancy-pants. That’s my version of success. And WordPress is the reason it all happened.