It’s true in romances and finances: Timing is everything. I’ve been in business as a freelance journalist, ghostwriter, and marketing content writer long enough that I’ve had people circle back to me about working together.
Maybe they reached out because there was initial interest but when they looked at their budget or their availability, they realized it didn’t make sense to work together. But sometimes they come back.
I wrote a sample piece for one client, a sex therapist in the South, and he loved it but he told me he needed time to figure out his SEO blog writing strategy. I figured that would be the end of it, a polite brushoff, but then almost exactly a year later, he emailed me out of the blue and said, “I’m ready to work together.”
If it had been a few months prior, I wouldn’t have had availability, but because of the timing, I did. Now I’m writing two blogs a month for him. It reminds me of that saying, “What’s meant for you will not run past you,” even if initially it seems that way. Something similar happened years ago, not related to my work as a freelance journalist, ghostwriter, or marketing content writer. It has to do with a piece of jewelry.
My Miracle Pearl Bracelet
In 2007 when I worked in Washington, D.C., my coworkers had a Mother’s Day jewelry sale. I went looking for a gift for my mom and passed by a mother-of-pearl shell bracelet with a T-bar and circle clasp. I didn’t think my mom would like it, plus I don’t like buying parts of animals, so I went back to my cubicle empty-handed. But I kept thinking about the bracelet. I wanted it – not for my mom, but for me. I rushed back upstairs and purchased it (and said a prayer for the mollusk who died to give it to me).
Shortly thereafter I went to a WNBA game with a friend of mine. When the game ended and we started walking toward the exit, I looked down at my wrist and realized my bracelet was gone. (The bracelet is a little bit too big for me so the T-bar tends to slip from the clasp.) I started searching in a panic, checking my pockets, my sleeve, the ground. I retraced my steps, went back to the bathroom to see if it had fallen on the tiles. I scanned the crowded hallway and couldn’t find it. My friend and I went back to our seats and there it was, on the cement, directly below where I was sitting.
Then about two years later when I worked at an office for a radiology publication, one of my coworkers came up to me with my bracelet dangling from his fingers and asked, “Is this yours?” I hadn’t even realized I lost it but nonetheless, my bracelet found its way back to me. And then the next night, walking home from work I realized I lost my bracelet again! I scanned the pavement; I kept my eyes trained on the ground for six blocks searching to no avail. I probably lost it somewhere in the mile between my place and the office. I couldn’t check the office because the next day I worked from home so I called one of my coworkers and asked her to keep an eye out for it.
What were the odds I would find it? It could have fallen off anywhere. Someone else could have picked it up; it could have been thrown away by someone sweeping the sidewalks. It could have fallen into a sewer grate. In all likelihood, my bracelet was gone.
The next morning, I went to the basement to do some laundry and I looked at the windowsill in the stairwell. Lo and behold, there was my bracelet, waiting for me! (Side note, since losing the bracelet so many times I changed the clasp to a lobster claw so it doesn’t keep slipping off.) Of all the places it could have been, of all the possibilities, my bracelet found its way back to me. Some things seem completely illogical, unreasonable, and far-fetched, but if they’re meant to be, they will happen. If you’re meant to have something, you will. In other words, if it’s yours, it’s yours. That goes for not only bracelets but clients too. Sometimes people also circle back.
If you contacted me previously and the timing wasn’t right, I’d love to hear from you now if things have changed. I can’t promise I’ll be free but you won’t know if you don’t ask.