We recently connected with Alexandra Borzo and have shared our conversation below.
Alexandra, looking forward to hearing all of your stories today. One of the toughest things about progressing in your career is that there are almost always unexpected problems that come up – problems that you often can’t read about in advance, can’t prepare for, etc. Have you had such and experience and if so, can you tell us the story of one of those unexpected problems you’ve encountered?
Most of the unexpected problems I’ve faced have been the result of two factors: moving abroad, and working independently. Both inherently produce the unexpected because neither fits a common mold. (As a side note, it’s become a popular statistic that over one third of working Americans freelance now, but it’s a much smaller number that freelance 100% of their work, and a subset of that population who lives outside the U.S.)
I first dabbled in independent work in January 2017 and, until the pandemic, every time I connected with a client it was a novel talking point that I worked virtually and lived outside the U.S. I was far from a trailblazer — websites like Upwork.com were already bustling with projects when I created my profile. This lifestyle was, however, less common at the time, and I faced many unexpected problems as I learned how it all worked.
Many of the challenges faced make sense in hindsight: I needed to obtain residency where I was living at the time (Peru), but without a local job, I couldn’t apply for a worker’s visa. I also had to structure my life around the realities of no-paid-vacation/no-employer-health-insurance that all independent workers face.
The most surprising challenge, though, was what to do when business boomed. I began freelancing to make ends meet while I looked for a local job in Lima, and I went into freelancing with no expectations. Business picked up fast, however, and it was quickly more than I could handle. “What a great problem to have,” I constantly told myself. Yet the thrill of demand didn’t make the problem easier.
My first attempt at tackling the problem was simply to work more. I was already chugging along with projects. When too many came in, I worked longer and harder to get it all done. I remember sleepless nights of stress-induced acid reflux. I remember the eczema breakouts that became more profuse, a scaly crown spreading all the way around my hairline. I remember working until midnight perched on the edge of my bed, closing my laptop, sleeping five or six hours (if I could manage), then rolling over to open the laptop again first thing in the morning.
Exhaustion quickly won me over and I had to devote the time (which I didn’t feel I had) to come up with a better solution to this “great problem.” I was still in my first year of freelancing and everything remained new and uncertain. Would I continue to have such massive demand? Would all these clients stick around?
My second attempt at tackling the problem was to subcontract help. In the world of scaling and business building, this seemed like the opportune thing to do. Who said it was a probem I had, anyway? Surely it was opportunity knocking on my door. I remember the fielding, the hiring, and the exhaustion of trying to train. I remember the time devoted to onboarding and answering questions. I had quickly developed a great relationship with my clients, yet it didn’t seem I could find anyone who could get the gist of the projects and personalities as fast as I had.
Humility won me over and I had to recognize that I didn’t have the energy, the talent, or the interest in training a team. There were moments when I wanted to blame those I hired, but the only blame was mine. I either hired the wrong people, was not a great trainer, or both. My hands were tied because my competitive advantage (due to living abroad) was that I charged much less than my peers. I didn’t have enough wiggle room to hire someone who might charge more.
My third attempt at tackling the problem has since kept my “too much work” challenge at bay, but there have been constant readjustments. This was my final solution: I had to hand most of my clients off to referrals and be more select about whom I worked with. The first round of “client fires” came easily. The second was harder because it included so many companies whose owners and missions I did like. I was candid, however, and maintained a good relationship with all of them, some of whom remain friends.
Since then, the status quo of “unexpected problem management” has been to set clear expectations with the clients I still work with and to constantly check in with myself — and with them. There have been smaller adjustments as time’s gone on; a “client fire” here, a cool new project there. I relocated to Spain, too, which required a shift based on who needed me during business hours. I’ve still had to say “I’m no longer the contractor for you” on a few occasions. I’ve also batted around full-time recruitment proposals from more than one client. The factors in play never seem to stop changing; my priorities and preferences, however, finally shine clearly through the fog.
The unexpected problem I faced was that of high demand for the services I offer at the price and quality I offer them. The unexpected internal dialog that accompany the problem has gone from cycles of impostor syndrome to a proverbial urge for “client hoarding” and the constant juggle of work-life balance.
Not all problems go away, because not every problem is solvable. What I have now are the tools and experience to identify the best path as I navigate each step day by day.
Awesome – so before we get into the rest of our questions, can you briefly introduce yourself to our readers.
At this point in my career, I’ve settled into the overlapping section of the Venn diagram of my past life. I say “past life” meaning the pre-freelance, pre-move Alex who worked in the banking sector.
First, I worked at the head of retail banking in a small community bank. We wore so many hats at the company that I also grew into a director of marketing role. This client-facing marketing based on products and services offered by the bank is what constitutes one circle of my Venn diagram.
Then I worked in a small team within an enormous banking corporation. Our select crew of four had one strategic mission: review the bank’s wealth management services and make them better. I got to tour branches around the country and write massive internal documents that earned stakeholder buy-in and gave shape to the rework of the wealth management division. This internal, strategic role is what constitutes the second circle in my Venn diagram.
As a freelancer, I always seem to be bouncing back and forth between client-facing copywriting and internal operational writing. Both of these required a strategic contribution, too, as I advise clients on what might work better in their “big picture” plans. I’ve since slapped the title “Internal & External Marketing Consultant” on my LinkedIn profile because I can’t imagine a better way to describe what I do. Even the internal documentation I write (like employee handbooks, processes, and project management roadmaps) are part of marketing; they’re marketing to the internal stakeholders to get buy-in and trigger the right emotions. External marketing, of course, is an exciting field where change comes faster than I can read about it, and I’ll always be excited for consumer-facing projects, too.
Any stories or insights that might help us understand how you’ve built such a strong reputation?
I remember being so swamped with work at the start that I didn’t feel there was time to build a brand or market myself. This feeling crept back into that “great problem to have” trap, but in reality, there were benefits to not defining myself early on. Instead, I was able to build a reputation that I could understand and leverage using my own clients’ reviews of me.
This reminds me of an exercise I drafted for a renovation firm’s day-long training that I led. One of the owners was a fan of Simon Sinek’s Golden Circle (which picks out our “why” instead of the “how” or “what” in business). I was tasked with getting a group of hourly employees to collectively come up with the company’s “why.” It couldn’t be hokey, either. It had to be data-backed and it had to resonate with each of them.
I had everyone in the group review a handful of some of the company’s best reviews. I asked them to highlight words they saw repeatedly, and they found: “communication,” “comfortable,” “love” (as in, clients “love” the results of their remodels). I then asked the team to come up with sentences that started with “…because…” and explain why they do what they do, all while using the repeated words they found. The eventual “why” was: …Because we believe in loving your home every day that you’re in it. This encompassed the real “why” behind them getting out their beds every morning; it wasn’t a paycheck, and it wasn’t to deliver some generic claim of “better quality” or “better service.” It was a feeling they aimed to deliver to each household they touched.
In the same way, I eventually put my own competitive advantage to words based on reviews I’ve received. In my clients’ words, I’ve built my reputation by being: “a great communicator,” “fast,” “effective,” “smart,” and “talented.” That final keyword makes me blush; I still deal with impostor syndrome daily and I hate re-reading anything I’ve written (because I always find something that makes me cringe.) This has been the consensus of my clients, however, and the reputation I’ve built has real reach — virtually all my new business has come in by referral.
Can you tell us about a time you’ve had to pivot?
The biggest recent pivot was when I relocated from Peru to Spain. The change in timezone had real implications on whom I could work with and there were several contracts I stepped down from. The biggest shift, however, came from the need I had for more personal time as I made a transatlantic move and finished residency paperwork.
The first four weeks in Europe were with my family in Italy. It didn’t make sense for me and my husband to accompany them on their long-planned trip and then return to Peru only to fly right back to Spain, so we hauled half our belongings through Rome and Florence on a family vacation before going our own way on a flight to Madrid.
After the fun but exhausting vacation, we landed in Madrid and headed to our first Airbnb. There would be half a dozen Airbnb rentals before we finally finished the request for our physical residency cards, obtained local bank accounts, opened a local phone contract, and found a place whose owners were willing to rent to a freelancer (landlords like regular paychecks, even if a freelancer makes more than average).
It’s pretty typical, I think, that personal life changes require some of the biggest pivots in business. I had to be at so many appointments and apartment viewings those first two months in Spain that I had to work less. I knew this was coming, though, so I was able to downsize my client book before the first flight to Italy.
I’ve only gone a few months since that whirlwind chapter ended. Right when I started pondering what new work I’d like to take on (since I had that extra time and no more paperwork), some extraordinary opportunities appeared. I’ve since been back to a regular volume of work and it’s felt less like a pivot and more like everything falling into place.
Contact Info:
- Website: https://coinmo.co/
- Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/alexandra.borzo/
- Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/aborzo/
- Other: https://www.upwork.com/freelancers/~01d86ca69e11dcde2b