I Deserve This

A few months ago, I checked into a suite at The Cosmopolitan Hotel in Las Vegas. It was gorgeous. Japanese soaking tub. Plush robes. Guest bathroom. View of the Bellagio fountains. The moment I walked into the room a part of me inside whispered: “You don’t belong here. This is way too luxurious for someone like you.”

I’ve had a complicated history with the concept of luxury. I grew up in a practical household where luxury, products, and experiences, were deemed appropriate for other people, but not for us.

In the fifth grade, I discovered fashion magazines at the sturdy public library in Jamestown, ND. My eyes were opened to a world I knew nothing about. Designer clothes. African safaris. Gin gimlets on the veranda before dinner.

I wanted all of it.

I dreamed of becoming a fashion designer and living in a New York apartment with Chanel jackets in my closet, crystal martini glasses on my vintage bar cart, and a bathroom lined with Lancomé beauty products.                                

I did fulfill my dream of becoming a fashion designer, but the bulk of my luxurious experiences have been provided by my employers. I bought a Chanel jacket, I’ve flown first class on Air France, and I’ve enjoyed $20 glasses of orange juice in the lobby of the Four Seasons Hotel in Milan. None of those things (and so many others) came out of my own pocket.

And with every single experience, this little voice inside was there, telling me I didn’t really deserve it and that without the generosity of others, I could never afford to be in those rooms or to have those things.

Standing on the threshold of that magnificent suite, I realized, this is getting in my way. The idea that luxury is something I don’t deserve is holding me back, in my business and in my life.

The truth is, the suite was included in the fee I paid my coach for the work we’ve done. It wasn’t simply gifted to me. I ultimately paid for it. I absolutely belonged in that room, as I belong in any room I choose to walk into.

So, even though my business is amazing, I’m open to more. I’m willing to work with that little voice when it comes up and declare, “I belong here and I deserve this.”

I also want to clarify that luxury isn’t just about money. One of the most profound experiences I had in the closing retreat with my coach was meeting a woman who gave up a highly successful career as a jet-setting hairdresser to fulfill her dream. She was working at the Best Friends Animal Sanctuary, taking care of horses. No amount of money could persuade her to leave that job to go back to her old life. She found her version of luxury, spending all day every day with the animals she loves.

If this topic intrigues you, let me know. Maybe I’ll run a workshop around this.

Consider this:

What is your relationship with luxury?

Do you have a threshold for receiving all the goodness life has for you?

Do you deflect or convince yourself you don’t deserve it when it comes to you?

How are you holding yourself back?

What commitments are you willing to make to open yourself up to more?