I was working for a landscape company as a receptionist (the only spot they had available then). I had been there about three years, and they knew I was meant for more than answering phones and typing proposals.
I was the plant person, specifically perennials and small shrubs. I helped organize the crews that planted the annuals every spring and ordered any needed plants. I knew all the Latin names and could converse easily with the suppliers over the phone.
Eventually, I got my own office, making it the perfect job. People rarely knocked on my door. But I couldn’t hide forever.
That Fatal Day
One day, I heard someone tap on the door jam and saw my boss smiling at me.
“Hey,” I said, clearing my throat as he stepped inside and sat down.
“Got some good news for you, kiddo.” He placed a folder on my desk.
“Oh, yeah?” I reached out and spun the folder around to read the name and address of one of our clients. “What’s this?” I asked.
“Your first consultation job!” he beamed.
I felt my stomach roll over. Like the feeling you get on a roller coaster as you reach the highest point and then go hurtling toward the ground. Only, right now, my roller coaster didn’t have a safety bar to hold me in.
“W-w-w-what do you mean?” I stammered, placing my hands in my lap so he would not see them shaking.
“Mrs. Wallace wants us to put in a rock garden on a large slope in her backyard. She wants perennials and a few little shrubs, and who better for the job than our plant lady? You will be meeting with her at ten o’clock tomorrow morning.”
“B-but I have never done a consultation before.”
“Don’t worry. You’ll be fine. I’ll be there to answer the construction questions. You just go and talk about flowers. You love that!”
“Not with strangers!” I almost shouted. Nausea swept over me.
He got up, pointing at the folder. “The rough plans are in there. Have a look and get an idea of what would work there. Maybe make a list of suggested plants.”
And then he was gone. There was no evidence he was ever there except for that file folder and the lingering scent of his aftershave. Oh, and the fact that I was a hot mess and my roller coaster was about to crash.
Panic! Panic! Panic!
I paced my office floor, glancing at the file and muttering. He hadn’t even asked if I wanted to do this. He was making me, and I didn’t want to. Hot tears rose in my eyes, and I quickly shut my office door.
The rest of the day was a blur. I made it through and, somehow, found my way home. That night, I did not sleep at all. I spent half the time looking at the roughly sketched plans and the other half crying or throwing up. I can’t think of another time I have ever been so nervous. I wished it would all go away.
Of course, it didn’t, and I showed up at work the following day, looking like I had not slept all night. At least I was being my true self. Maybe my boss would take one look at me and cancel the whole thing! Or perhaps his car would break down. Or maybe I would fall down these stairs and break my ankle! Or maybe Mrs. Wallace will decide to make the whole area a lawn, and I will be off the hook!
Again, none of those things happened, and I ended up in the passenger seat of my boss’s Range Rover, speeding towards the end of my landscape career. Oh, the drama!
The Wallace’s were waiting in their backyard. She was tall and thin, and I immediately pictured her as a stork. Mr. Wallace was all businessman. He was washed and pressed, briefcase in hand, graying hair perfectly in place.
He glanced at me and then said to his wife, “Sara, remember the budget!” and disappeared around the side of the house, leaving me alone with Sara Wallace, the stork lady.
Go Time
I can’t remember much about that day. I recall an image of a stork dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt fluttering around the yard. As nervous as I was, I stepped forward and started discussing the plants I thought would work.
She immediately stopped her fluttering and walked toward me. Her blue eyes were glued to mine as I talked.
Wait! Was she listening to me? She asked me a few questions, which I answered easily, and we slowly walked around her yard, me taking notes and her pointing out things she wanted to change.
At some point during that conversation, I became a consultant! This woman was listening to what I was saying. I was teaching her things! For the first time in my life, I was the expert!
I left that meeting with a huge smile and a more confident step. I have had those feelings of pride and accomplishment several times since then – working in a garden center helping people pick their plants or standing on a stage talking about native plants or soil science.
I still shake my head afterward and wonder why all those people would want to listen to me. Why do they think I have something to say? Why do they believe in me? They are complete strangers, yet they come to me for advice.
You Are An Expert
Aside from my self-doubt, which I obviously still need to work on, this experience serves as a reminder that we are all experts at something and should share this knowledge with the world.
Sure, it can be scary and intimidating. You might even throw up, like I did. But believe me when I tell you that stepping out into the sunshine and showing others your brave self will help you understand your place in the world and what you are meant to do.
Don’t be afraid to reach for the sun!