Young Woman and the C-Suite:

Forwarded this newsletter? Subscribe for free!

In 2009, I found myself in a situation that, in hindsight, could be the script for a tragicomedy about a hapless expat. I was "let go" from Anthropologie. Let go. Such a polite term, isn’t it? Sounds almost liberating, like a hot air balloon drifting serenely into the sunset. In reality, it was more like being catapulted out of a moving vehicle.

I had uprooted my life from Israel, dragging along three kids under the age of three (yes, you read that right), to take up an entry-level position in the U.S. A year later, I was standing in HR, tears streaming down my face, surrounded by a fortress of tissues. They eventually gave up on me and stuck me in a glass-walled room, probably so they could monitor my meltdown without having to actually deal with it. I knew there was a recession. I knew the grim mantra of “last in, first out.” But when you're the one holding the pink slip, logic and macroeconomic trends offer cold comfort.

Back home, I was kind of in shock. Stunned and navigating the labyrinth of American legalese while nursing a baby who had just recovered from whooping cough and a lengthy hospital stay. The 2008 crash wasn’t about me. But when you’re in the wrong place at the wrong time, it sure as hell feels personal. Maybe if I had been more of a "fun girl" and less of a "do your work and then go home to see your kids" girl, my head could have avoided the chopping block. I’ll never know. Sometimes the waves are crashing over us in an event that feels deeply personal, and when we lift our head up from the wreckage, if we pay attention we may see others washed up on those shores. This past week I reconnected with a colleague from that time who shared how hard things were for her then. It’s sad that it took so long for us to be able to see and support each other.

Then, thrust back into the workforce, I did what any rational person would do: I launched a sketchpad. Somehow, by some stroke of fate or magic, this little sketchpad got licensed to a publisher and turned into a bestseller. I was as flabbergasted by this easy success as I had been by my unceremonious exit from Anthropologie. In 2008-9, I was fighting gravity. In 2011-12, I was riding a wave of creativity and DIY fever. Blogging, influencers—things that didn’t even have names back then—sprung up organically. There’s that annoying word: organically.

Fast forward to today. I had coffee with an old friend who’s spent the last twenty years in content creation for television. She’s now in grief counseling, struggling with the demise of her industry. Streaming platforms, changing viewer habits, and relentless technological advancement have left traditional television on shaky ground. She’s mourning not just a job, but a sense of self and future. When the bottom falls out of an industry you’ve tied your fortunes to, it’s like losing a piece of your identity.

Scott Galloway put it succinctly:

Or as Jeanne Wang said in my interview with her this week, "Better to be lucky than good." Scott’s advice? Look for the best beach with the biggest waves.

In the world of entrepreneurship through acquisition, there's a unique privilege often overlooked in the hustle and grind: the power to choose your beach and just maybe, wait for your wave. If you’re fortunate enough to be in the position to select a business where you'll invest the next 5 to 10 years of your life, you’re already ahead of many.

New Yorkers are a stubborn bunch. When summer rolls around, they brave polluted waters, jellyfish, riptides, lifeguard shortages, and, most recently, shark attacks, all for the simple pleasure of a cooling swim. This gritty determination isn’t new. Take Gertrude Ederle, for example. On August 27, 1926, this 19-year-old New York native decided that swimming across the English Channel was a good idea. She didn’t just make it across; she did it in 14 hours and 31 minutes, smashing the previous record held by men and holding onto that title until 1964. The press dubbed her the "Queen of the Waves,"🌊 and rightly so.

Trudy’s story is a reminder that while the macroeconomic waves and tailwinds we face aren’t personal, our response to them is. It’s not just about surviving the storm; it’s about riding those waves with grit, determination, and maybe a bit of New York-style stubborness.

Life’s big macroeconomic forces—those waves and tailwinds—aren’t personal, even when they knock us flat. 🌊 Sometimes, you’re fighting gravity, crestfallen, and sometimes, you’re riding the crest of a wave. It’s not about how good you are, but about finding the right beach and waiting for your moment. And when that moment comes, let’s agree, we don’t just ride the wave—we own it.

FREE TOOLS TO GET YOU STARTED:

 📍Where can I find deals? TEN PLACES TO START DEAL ORIGINATION

💼 Start with you. Always be selling. HERE are five actions to make sellers, investors and brokers swipe right on you.