I seldom blog about my career before real estate, but a short question prompted me to write an answer that would be worth expounding upon.
My first job out of Villanova started in May, 1989 for a publishing company in their sales division. It was a small privately held firm run by two partners who were ex-salesmen themselves. I started out well and was promoted to management in my first year.
Lesson 1 out of college: Titles are often window dressing to get more work out of a person without paying them for the extra time and effort.
My first year was actually quite a happy one, but in the early 90's the recession cooled things off. I was ambitious, and I was also enthralled with the big picture that ownership painted for young managers. I believed that I was in the right place at the right time to have a stake in a company that would make me wealthy.
Lesson 2 out of college: The Big Picture painted by the guy on top can be hot air, or as I called it later, the Big Lie.
Given my eagerness to advance and the fact that I was single and unattached, I was the perfect guy for travel and relocation. I worked brutal hours- nights, weekends, and a day off a week was a lot. When a guy under me was in a car wreck, I moved from Philadelphia temporarily to Maryland. Then, back to Philly. Then New Orleans. After that, Boston. Then back to Philly. My twenties were a blur.
One thing I started to see over time was the bloom coming off the rose between my superiors and myself. Even though I was a fast learner and hard worker, my input was typically not considered. I began to feel as if I were square peg trying to fit a round hole more and more. And when I didn't perform to my past robotic standards, I'd be "called in" to the main office where one of the partners would have a "meeting" with me. Looking back, it was pathetic- a 25 year old working his tail off being worked over in a fancy office by the president, two vice presidents, and a division manager. My attempts to defend my position were waved off. Look around the room, I was told. They were all older and wiser. The voice in my head was my enemy.
My nadir came in 1994. I had spent a successful year in New Orleans revamping a division down there, I had an awesome apartment in the warehouse district, and I had a great girlfriend. When that relationship ended, they thought the best thing to do was transfer me to Detroit. But first I'd spend a summer in Boston turning that around. I didn't want to go to Boston. I didn't want to go to Detroit. Worst of all, since Boston was temporary, I was told to rent a room somewhere. So long Warehouse district apartment, hello Watertown boarding house with a pet pot belly pig. And that "temporary" assignment stretched to almost a year. I remember being out of town on business when my belongings were shipped from storage in Louisiana to my new address, and some jerk put all those cardboard boxes on the side of the house instead of the covered porch.
It rained.
Only sloppy packing saved photos and valuable things. Clothing was drenched. Some books were ruined. But things like my diploma and photo album were OK.
At this point, I was officially unhappy. I was tired of being sent here and there. I lost a tremendous amount of confidence in my own ideas and instincts. Every time something went wrong, it was because I didn't follow the instructions to a "T," not because their plan sucked.
Lesson three out of college: Sometimes if you work for someone else, you are building their dreams and not your own.
I could write a book about my resignation and exit from the company, but suffice to say I should have left years earlier. I landed in Rochester, New York working with my old roommate from college and his father. No relocations. No head screw meetings. No pigs. I took to real estate, and I built my confidence again. One epiphany I had was that my gut was not just often correct, it was uncannily correct.
In 2005, when I started my company, I had a clear plan of how I wanted to build things. I would not second guess myself, and I would trust my instincts. I would not be swayed by anyone with an agenda contrary to my own. And all we've gone is grow. 300 Transactions, $125 million closed, and without a stitch of "help" from those guys in the Main Office. Imagine that. Me, myself and I shed their advice and did OK.
In 2012, I know that had I gone with my gut 20 years ago, I'd be further along than where I am even now. I am at peace with things because lessons probably had to be learned and there is no value in regret. But one thing is certain: My inner voice, my gut, my instinct, whatever your choose to call it, is a better friend and far more accuate than the directives my old superiors gave me when I was a cowlicked kid. It is that way for a reason. Our inner voice is what makes us special, and wasn't put there to be elevator music. It is our GPS in Life.
So yes, go with your gut. A lot more people would be a lot better off if they did.
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