When I left my last corporate job two and a half years ago much of my family and many of my friends thought I was nuts. I had been working for a well known professional services firm, received much professional admiration from having a cutting edge title (I had to supply a business card to my father to prove that "Knowledge Manager" was, indeed, an actual job) and truly enjoyed my colleagues, if not my management. Leaving was a calculated risk, though, and one that I knew I couldn't let pass. Since then, I've worked steadily (although not constantly) and am pleased and proud to have been able to support my family while my husband finishes school. It turns out that the solo working life suits me.


So why is it then that the thought of going further with this little experiment scares the h-e-double-hockey-sticks out of me? Do we all have a built in risk threshold and I've come up against mine? I have this idea and have scoured the earth looking for reasons not to pursue it and can find none other than my fear. So what's the problem? I have a small amount of capital ready to invest and am confident I can start on a shoestring, am rolling off my current project just before I go onto my self-scheduled and self-funded maternity leave and will have some time to put together a plan (don't laugh! I started grad school and got pregnant with my first in the same month and left my job when he was 9 months old, so I think I can multi-task here, too). Again, so what's the problem? Why can't I just say outloud that I'm starting another company and close this latest chapter of my life. Maybe it's the idea of leaving myself rather than some company that cared little about my actual competencies and more about my ability to be a warm body. Maybe it's that I know that leaving behind a good thing is much harder than leaving behind a mediocre thing.


In mulling over these issues and rereading all of my "Gen-X entrepreneur" books I came across a passage where a women relayed the story of her dithering over writing a book she knew she had in her. Finally, her frustrated companion said, "Someday you'll be in a book store and see your book on the shelf, but written by someone else. And you're going to have to live with that."


Yikes.