There’s this hoodie.
If it were a person it would be in high school now. Applying for colleges. Asking if it can borrow my car.
I first laid eyes on the hoodie in 2007. I fell in love with it not so much for how it looked but how it felt. It was so soft. Like butter with sleeves and a zipper. An ex nicknamed it “God’s beard.”
So I paid the $40 (these were 2007 prices), took it home, and almost never took it off. Anyone who knew me back then knows … the hoodie.
Seventeen years later, the zipper doesn’t zip. It’s two sizes too big. And really, it’s not my best shade of pink. But six apartments, one house, and three cities later, the hoodie is still hanging around. Mostly in my closet. But when I’m feeling complacent I drape it around my office chair.
The hoodie has been down from day one. It had my back and held my head as I rode the emotional and financial roller coaster of starting my own business. For every step forward and every tumble back, it’s been there. But most of all it reminds me of the intense hunger I had to succeed when this journey began.
Last week, while deep in the throes of complacency, I posted a picture of the hoodie on my Instagram stories.
The caption: This is the hoodie I used to wear almost everyday when I was broke AF and just starting my online business in 2007. I keep it around to remember how far I’ve come. If you’re feeling defeated, keep going. It’ll all work out, if you commit to putting in the work.
Feeling nostalgic, I then took a trip down memory lane and posted a handful of clips from my old YouTube videos. My followers got a kick out of watching the story play out chronologically, juxtaposing where it started and where it’s gone.
If it were a book I would have titled it Little by Little. The first page introduces a character who’s me, but not really me. He might look a lot like me, but his shaky voice and inauthenticity belong to someone else.
I like to think of him as version 1.0 — Pink Hoodie Sean — of an infinite number of periodic self-ware updates downloaded over the past two decades.
The story is a testament to what can happen when you put one foot in front of the other and just keep climbing. Not for days or months, but for years. Decades. Always in the process of becoming, but never forgetting from where you came. Thus my 17-year-old hoodie.
Always remember that every story begins in the first chapter. We get ourselves in trouble when we compare our chapter ones to someone else’s chapter 20.
On today’s episode, Lisa Nichols reminds us that there is no elevator to success. You’ve gotta take the stairs.
Source: Step Into Your Purpose For Coaches & Educators | Lisa Nichols
