I Sell Myself For Money

𝗜 𝘀𝗲𝗹𝗹 𝗺𝘆𝘀𝗲𝗹𝗳 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗺𝗼𝗻𝗲𝘆.

Every time I set pen to paper, fingers to keyboard, push record- a sliver of my soul is auctioned off to the highest bidder.

And I’m unapologetic about it.

I 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 being a copy hooker. 

A street-walking creator of content.

A handwriting harlot.

A writing working girl.

Most of us dread turning copy tricks for money.  Afraid our skills aren’t good enough to please a customer. Afraid we’ll turn them off when all we want to do is turn them ON.

Never knowing what buttons to push. And never knowing how to keep them coming back for more.

Several years ago I was new to the game, too. Scared and unsure of myself.

𝗨𝗻𝘁𝗶𝗹 𝗜 𝗺𝗲𝘁 𝗛𝗘𝗥.

The one who would be too curious to let an opportunity slip away.

The one who would prove that talent alone was overrated and acquiring skills was what brought the cash rolling in.

The one who would teach me that sometimes the insecurities weren’t there to beat me down; they were there to help me build a tough skin, resilience and a way around.

...And launch me into a future I never saw coming.

Because as it turns out, maybe the copy call girl I used to be prepared me to meet the hustlin’ content creation pimp I am today.

And the only way you’ll ever know if YOU are a copy hooker is by painting on blood-red courage, hiking up your homonyms, taking a deep breath, and showing them your goods.