I’m Not Lying. It’s Just My Truth Has Changed.

The email that kicked everything off for me.

Sent: Monday, February 8, 2016 at 7.06pm
Subject line: I'm not lying. It's just my truth has changed.
From: Elizabeth McKenzie
To: My List of about 1,800

Hey Yo!

It all went down last Tuesday. I jumped in my car and put Sorry on repeat (because nothing makes an hour’s car ride faster than the tropical sweet beats from Biebs) on my way to my regular kinesiology session.

It’s my reset. Every 6ish weeks, I drive down the coast and sort through what I like to call being human and all the fun that comes along with that.

So as I’m listening to Biebs and thinking about how I’m betraying Harry Styles (I make a note to have my man be in charge of music for the next week to expand my tastes beyond the boy band genre)…I start thinking… nothing’s been majorly wrong of late.

I’m on cruise control right now. Both literally like right now as I'm driving but also metaphorically in life. There’s no dark night of the soul crazy drama going on.

So I get there. I sit down. We start talking.

And the wading through my mind begins. Like why I berate myself for daring to take an afternoon off work, and why I love looking at skinny bitches and comparing myself… But ya know, there’s self-awareness all up in this space...

We keep digging. There’s something else. Deeper than skinny bitches on Instagram.

And there it was.

Like your housemate standing starkers right in front of you.

You can’t look away.

I’d be denying who I am.

I am a writer.

I bet you’re rolling your eyes at me right now thinking… well der Liz.

You write, ergo, you’re a writer.

Even in my blondest of moments over the last few months, I should have gotten this. But I’d denied it. And put myself in the metal box of business.

Ironically, I’d write and write and write on this.

Pretty white hard cover Moleskine journals tarnished with all the swear words possible.

What do I really want to do?

How do I want to serve people?

How am I supposed to show up?

What is my highest purpose?

What is my fullest potential?

FUUUCCCKKKKKKK…

I’d close the Moleskine and get back to business. Groundhog day was in full swing.

Same questions, same answers, same shit different day.

Until one day I wrote: I JUST WANT TO WRITE.

The follow on was: but how?

Elizabeth sitting here right now writing this is shaking her head more than Taylor Swift could shake it off, and yet back then, it felt like this wasn't even a dream.

It was totally incomprehensible.

Blind as me last Friday at my cousin's wedding blind a bat.

Here’s my perfectly 20/20 hindsight history showing how blind I really was:

// Gets a random email from a guy looking for Elizabeth McKenzie the author and stumbles across my website. Tells me I’m cute. (Thanks).

// Writes in my journal a thousand times I just want to write. Waahhhh!

// Attends writing workshop to become a better writer. Is told to keep doing what I’m doing and fucking write... Cos you're a writer.

// Gets emails from my tribe asking if I had a copywriter write my words, because your words are amazing.

// Has new clients sign up to my messaging mentoring service where we basically write their copy together.

So, back in my kinesiologist’s office we’re sitting there, and she tells me this new discovery:

You’re a writer.

That’s your everything.

That’s your career.

What you do.

Who you are.

Truth bombs are exploding all over the place. Danielle Laporte would be proud.

I still can’t believe it. Thank fuck for kinesiology. We clear that shit-on-a-stick belief.

I head home. Sorry is on repeat. There are more hip swirls this time.

I get home and I crack open my fresh new black soft cover Moleskine.

I am a writer. I write.

It’s different. I see the words. It’s not scary. It’s not stressful. It just is. But I still don’t really know the how at this point.

It doesn’t send me into a never-ending bottle of shiraz.

I keep writing this affirmation on repeat.

I’m a writer. I write.

I’m an author. I write.

My words work.

I marinate in this whole new way of doing me.

It’s kind of the only way now. It feels like the oceans, the mountains, the valleys… ya know… natural things that exist because they do.

I write. About writing.

I think. About writing.

I dream. About writing.

I talk. About writing.

But I’m not doing much business-y stuff at this point.

I just keep writing…

Because your words are your bottom line.

And when you get your words right, you bake your marketing into the dish that is your business.

It makes marketing easy, breezy beautiful and it makes your clients look like the Covergirl (read: perfect!)

So writing, copy and messaging is my new marketing.

My new truth.

I'm a copywriter.

Here to help you write personality-driven copy + content that’ll turn every email they drop into a Beyonce single drop… ya know? A multi-platinum smash hit.

And if ya’ll didn’t see that Superbowl performance, go do it now.

So, what’s this all mean right now?

Introducing my BRAND NEW copywriting services.

Want me to write the words for you?

Hit reply and let’s have a conversation.

And let me leave you with this question:

Where has your truth shifted to?

Remember, it’s not lying. It’s the evolution of your truth.*

*Thanks Alex Franzen for this one.

To words that matter (they all do!)

Elizabeth

So what happened after I hit send that faithful Monday, February 8, 2016 at 7.06pm?

I got my first client. $2,000 to write a website.

I got my second client. $2,000 to write another website.

I got my third client. $2,000 to write another website.

And you want to guess what happened next?

I became a copywriter.

There’s nothing sweeter in the world than making all your money from writing words.