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Confessions of a recovering Ice Queen

In our previous spa life as Natural Body, I made a couple of trips to the corporate offices in Atlanta. Natural Body is well known around the city, with 8 locations and 25+ years in business. If you’re not familiar with this part of our story, I wrote about it here.

The founder of Natual Body, Cici, drove a cute little Mini Cooper with the license plate “ntrlbdy”. She joked the plate kept her honest and helped her mind her manners in traffic. This is exactly why Smitty has forbidden me from ever branding my car with Milagro ANYTHING. My driving “skills” (and accompanying temperament) are legendary.

A client of ours stopped in the other day in his company van and shared this tidbit: a restaurant-owning friend of his was caught PICKING HIS NOSE while driving their company van. How did he find out he was caught? The observer posted about it in a Google review of the restaurant. Seriously.

So while we’re on the topic of representing your brand well at all times, gather round and let me tell you a warm and fuzzy story that will truly touch your heart.

I used to be a bitch.

Let me rephrase that. I used to be bitchier. (Sorry for the language, Dad. It’s necessary.)

In college, Smitty’s friends called me Ice Queen. I’ve been told I was intimidating. Maybe I still am. I think I’ve changed. I’ve definitely been trying.

Maybe they were referring to this?

And the most necessary change (that I work on DAILY) is keeping my opinions in check. It’s not that I don’t have opinions anymore, I’ve just learned they don’t contribute much to my goals in life so I (try to) keep them to myself. Why?

I cannot in good conscience claim freedom from others’ opinions about my life and simultaneously tell everyone what I think of theirs.

So just as I’ve mastered the art of swallowing a burp when I know it would be inappropriate, I’m working on mastering the art of swallowing my own opinion (ego) when it would be equally as inappropriate. Which is like, 98% of the time.

Instead I’ll share my insides (like my closet bitchiness and my burp swallowing skills) in hopes we find we’re more alike than our opinions make us seem.

And if you REALLY want to talk opinions, invite me over and feed me wine and cupcakes. There is a time and place for everything.


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