Apparently I Look Like a Librarian (And Other Things I Learned at a Networking Event)

Last week I went to a networking event that was advertised as an AI marketing workshop. Spoiler alert: there was very little AI.

Instead, I got front row seats to a master class in human psychology with a side of public roasting. The guy running it had one of those life stories that makes you think, Well, that’s certainly a career path.

• New York.
• High-end hairdresser.
• DJ.
• Professional people watcher.
• Now marketing guru.

Honestly? I respected it. The man clearly understood people. Unfortunately for the rest of us he understood us publicly.

The format was simple. We’d all go around the room and give our 30-second elevator pitch. Easy enough. Except by the time we had gotten through five people, he’d absolutely dismantled every single pitch.

Now, to be fair, he always put everyone back together afterward. It wasn’t mean-spirited. It was more like emotional CrossFit. But still. After watching the five people ahead of me get verbally sparred with it had me rewriting my entire introduction in my head.

• “Don’t say process improvement…”
• “No, make it about the customer…”
• “No, make it about the pain…”
• “No… wait…”

Finally, my turn. “Hi, I’m Jenny. I help overwhelmed business owners find hidden time and cost savings…” I didn’t even finish.

He throws up his hand. “Huh.” Long pause. “Can I tell you something?”

Never in the history of mankind has anything good followed those words.

He looks straight at me. “You look overwhelmed.”

Well… Good morning to you too, sir.

He continues, “Why would I hire someone who looks overwhelmed to help me because I’m an overwhelmed business owner?”

Ouch. My fifty-something-year-old feelings were not prepared. Entrepreneur Jenny felt attacked. Human Jenny felt attacked. Middle-school-Jenny, who still occasionally shows up uninvited, definitely felt attacked.

Oddly enough, though, I didn’t spiral. Six months ago? I’d have spent the next three days wondering if I should ever leave my house again. This time I just sat there thinking, “Well… that’s… certainly feedback.”

Then he says, “So what do you actually do?” I reply, “What I do isn’t sexy, I help businesses with process improvement.”

His entire face changes. “Oh! That makes sense. I’d hire someone like that.”

I laughed and told him, “That’s funny because when I tell most people I do process improvement, their eyes glaze over.”

He nods. Then proceeds to diagnose my personality in about twelve seconds. “You look like a librarian.”

Excuse me? I had on jeans. A button-up shirt. Sunglasses on my head. Apparently that’s all it takes. He continues.

“You look like the kind of person who knows where everything is.” Okay. Fair.

“You probably enjoy telling CEOs they’re doing it wrong.”

I tried correcting him. “No… I like helping them discover better ways to do things.”

He didn’t even blink. “Yep. You definitely enjoy it.” At this point I realized facts were no longer welcome. Then somehow it got even better. “You know where all the bodies are buried.” I couldn’t argue with that. I laughed, “I usually do.”

He continues, “And you love telling people where to find them.” Again, Not exactly how I would put it, but close enough. Then came my favorite observation of the afternoon.

“You’re funny. You soften the blow.” He’s not wrong. Years of delivering process improvement recommendations to executives has taught me one universal truth:

If you’re about to tell someone they can eliminate three departments’ worth of work…always lead with a joke.

The conversation came back around to the lack of sex appeal process improvement is where he immediately responded with THE PITCH. “Perfect. That’s your opener. When asked what do you do? You say, “Well… it’s not sexy… but it’s process improvement.”“

Honestly? He’s probably onto something.

Driving Away

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Driving home, I found myself laughing. Not because I enjoyed getting roasted. Although, by the end, I kind of did. I was laughing because entrepreneurship has become this fascinating social experiment.

Corporate America spits people out bruised, exhausted, and questioning everything they know. Then entrepreneurship welcomes them with open arms and approximately twelve thousand people trying to sell them the secret formula.

I’ve met the coaches. The masterminds. The seven-figure mentors. The “I know Tony Robbins” crowd. The “this changed my life” crowd. The “you just need one more program” crowd.

Listen, some of them genuinely help people. And others? Let’s just say there are a lot of vultures circling people who have just survived corporate layoffs and identity crises.

When you’ve spent decades being told who you are, It’s surprisingly easy to pay someone else to tell you again. I’ve almost done it. Actually, I did do it. God, in His kindness, got me out of a contract that would have financially wrecked our family. That wasn’t luck. That was mercy.

Over the past year I’ve had to learn something I never wanted to learn. I know how to build systems, generate leads, nurture prospects. I know how to write proposals and how to improve businesses. Those are my responsibilities.

But the outcomes that lead to revenue? That’s God’s. That sentence has taken me over a year to believe. Every morning I still wake up having to remind myself,

• “God, today’s manna is enough.”
• “I trust You today.”
• Not next month.
• Not after the next proposal.
• Today.

And something strange has happened since I stopped trying to control every outcome. My creativity came back! I hadn’t realized how much fear had stolen it. I’m back to building brands, creating color palettes, designing logos along with thinking about SEO, AI visibility, websites, customer journeys, messaging, automation…and I genuinely love it.

Who Am I?

I realized something else. For most of my life I’ve been trying to fit someone else’s definition of who I should be. I’ve been too female for technology. At times I lacked confidence for leadership, and others i was too opinionated. I’ve been too sensitive, too much or not enough. So I learned to shrink.

Yet God never asked me to shrink. He asked me to be faithful. There’s a difference. This past month alone I’ve watched Him answer prayer after prayer. Clients appeared. Needs were met. A job interview ended with a “no” and for the first time in my life, I didn’t interpret it as rejection. I simply said, “Thank you God for closing the door that wasn’t meant for me.”

Who even am I?!? Apparently I am someone who’s finally learning that her identity isn’t found in a networking event, a corporate title, a client, a paycheck, or even whether she looks like a librarian.

It’s found in being a daughter of God. Beloved. Adopted. Already accepted.

Turns out that’s a much sturdier identity than “marketing consultant.” Although I still kind of want business cards that say:

Jenny Glenn
“Professional Librarian“
Knows Where the Bodies Are Buried
Makes Processes Less Terrible
Loved by God

And yes…I’m absolutely going back to that networking group. Not because I need validation. Because I want to take a friend, sit in the back, get roasted, laugh until we cry. And if anyone asks what I do, I’ll smile and say,

“Well… it’s not exactly sexy…”