Before we get into it, let me just say that I don’t like the term, “entrepreneur” – it sounds like the worst combination of pretentiousness and disgust, like if a snooty person was being judgmental and said something like, “Oh, so you’re an entrepreneeeeeuuuurrr…interesting…”
Man, I hate snooty people. What with their monocles and pocket watches and pencil-thin mustaches. And that’s just the ladies! (ba dum bum!)
I think a better term would just be “business owner” or even “head of a new start-up.” Something a bit more ambiguous and professional. ”Entrepreneur” sounds almost amateur, like you’ve got something to prove. It’s got that feeling of “unemployed, but this is what I tell people I do to cover my ass” about it. So let’s just use “business owner” and forget all about the E-word.
That being said, I don’t talk much about my work as a business owner. That’s because there isn’t much to say about it without discussing myself.
My first real experience with independent business ownership began at the age of three, when my parents opened a hair salon (an interesting stretch from their having been a college professor and elementary school teacher before that). During the 13 years that the store was open, I saw the physical, emotional and financial toll that it took on them. And from that experience (including working at the shop for around 40 hours per week over all 7 days), I decided that I would never go into business for myself. I wanted none of that responsibility, none of the stress, and none of the risk. From that day on, I vowed to work in the corporate world, enjoying the protection and security of working for a bigger company that would take care of those things for me.
This ideology progressed until my junior year of college, when I came to the realization that I needed experience, and no one was just going to give it to me. So I created my own micro-advertising company, taking care of all aspects of the craft and using my friends as clients. I did work for their bands, social clubs, side businesses and charity projects. And through it all, I managed to learn a few things. But I saw it as a means to an end, and leveraged that experience into an entrepreneurship with a larger advertising firm. And in that time, I started to see the advantages of freedom.
The second business opportunity came after graduation. Having no solid job prospects, the opportunity to start a record label with my best friend seemed like a risk worth taking. The results of that decision have been documented on this blog before in the retreat to move forward series. Long story short: it didn’t end well.
And the third? Well, I’ve mentioned one of my bosses before (who, depending on what we’re doing, is either my boss or business partner, depends how technical you want to get), but beyond that, all you need to know is that I learned quite a bit from my earlier experiences, and so far, those problems have not come around. But the lessons of being a business owner three times over have taught me a few things that I wish someone had told me straight off the bat:
- Everything is personal. Since the company is your work and based on your ideas, everything that happens to it reflects on you. A few months ago, I commented on a post on Sydney Owen’s blog about entrepreneurship where I tried to explain the psychological issues that come with owning a business. And one of the biggest things is this: you’ll need to have a thick skin about everything. Following a dream, a passion, a hobby, or a friend blindly into what you hope will be a success all means that you’re putting a lot of yourself into the final result. So your business becomes an extension of you, a defining part of your life. So when a client is upset, a contractor does a bad job, or a payment doesn’t go through, you feel it more than if you were just doing work for another company. It’s yours, and everything that you do reflects on your business. And vice-versa.
- It’s not about working harder, just smarter. This might make me lose Penelope Trunk as a commenter, but Tim Ferriss is kinda right. His book, The Four-Hour Workweek is all about finding ways around overly complicating your business, getting other people to to take care of the small stuff, and getting to focus on what matters. And while some may argue with his methods, the core of the book is spot-on: you don’t need to pull ridiculously long shifts and do everything yourself; you can get help, outsource, hire assistants, or try new ways of doing things. Your customers will never know all of the details of what it took for your good or service to get to them, and they probably don’t care*, so why put so much weight on it? Just get the job done.
- There’s no such thing as balance. I used to think that I could balance two jobs, this blog, my occasional music ventures, a bunch of evil plans, a social life, exercise, and a decent amount of sleep without issue. But I quickly realized that I couldn’t. Try as you might, something will always come up to derail your plans, and you will have to sacrifice something for it. It’s the opportunity cost of having your own business. So you have three choices: kill yourself with stress, stop planning things entirely, or give something up. There’s always a cost to what you do, even if you’re not aware of it. And you’ll never be able to have anything close to balance unless you give a few things up.
- You may fail. Prepare for it, but never hope for it. Failure is never good. It means that you didn’t succeed. And sometimes, you’ll get the two confused. But while failing is bad, not having an escape route planned is worse.
- Always make it look easy. Your business, as mentioned before, is intrinsically tied to you. So if people see you sweat, they’ll think the same of your company. You don’t have a big brand to hide behind, or a good team of spin doctors (or The Spin Doctors) to help you diffuse whatever issues you’ve got going on behind the scenes. Whether it’s financial woes, employee problems, product issues, or some other concerns, don’t go telling everyone you know. Keep it to those who are in a position to make changes or help you out. The more you gossip about your own company, the worse off the both of you appear to others.
There are a lot of good and bad things about being a business owner instead of working for others. And while it may be easy to write off the whole thing as risky, stupid, crazy, or brave, it’s not that difficult to get into. As long as you take the time to really think about what you want to do and how to do it, you have a pretty decent chance of success. Unless you call yourself an entrepreneur. In which case, you might be a snooty jackass.
* Unless you sacrificed some living creatures or something
