Stacked Odds- Another Consultant Story
I first heard about LuLaRoe through my best friend. She had bought a pair of leggings and an Irma and had become enamored. After feeling the leggings, my curiosity was piqued, so I found myself trying to locate more info on them. Once I took my search to YouTube, I stumbled upon some “real talk” from Joelle Day about joining, followed by Tiffany Cook crying, overcome with gratefulness over how much money she had made in such a short time.
But if I am completely honest with you, it wasn’t the promise of making a lot of money that got me (although that was a nice bonus!), it was the talk about the INCREDIBLE sisterhood fostered by the company and encouraged by consultants everywhere. Being raised in Scientology, it is ingrained in you that the best group of people to be involved with are those that surround you in the church; it just doesn’t get any better than the “genuine” human beings that share your purpose within that circle. When I moved away from home and became exposed to the “wog” (non-Scientology) world, it was scary and a bit lonely. There was no longer a built-in community for me to be a part of. So, when LuLaRoe walked into my life speaking of a sisterhood, I knew I HAD to be a part of it. It felt like it would be the answer to this emptiness I hadn’t even recognized I had. As if that wasn’t enough, the idea of getting to help women feel beautiful ignited passion within me; as a plus size girl, I know how hard it can be to find clothes that is flattering to the form.
I immediately found the closest rep to me and met for coffee to discuss details. What she told me only added fuel to the fire. The ladies in the team she was a part of were super close, they talked about everything and always supported each other. This was also around the time when convention tickets were released, and I wanted to make sure to be able to go. Most of the rep’s team were going, and I wanted to be a part of that amazing experience. My first “girls trip.”
Before long, all I thought about was joining this amazing company. I wanted to make sure to join before convention sold out. However, getting thousands of dollars together to onboard was a hurdle. I had made dumb decisions in my 20s that had put my credit in the toilet, so the suggestion to get a credit card and pay it off once I got started was not an option for us. I cannot tell you how many frantic conversations I had with my husband to try and figure out how to make it happen. But I was determined, and he saw how important it was to me, so he got on board quickly too. We came up with a plan to save up over the next few months with the goal of me starting once we moved over the summer, but then the dreaded queue started to grow. When I had started looking at LLR, they hadn’t even hit 10,000 reps and I remembered hearing that those were the ones that really made the money in a DS company. When the queue went from about 4,000 people waiting to 9,000 the next week, my anxiety went through the roof.
Enter plan number 2: My husband and I discussed the option of staying in our apartment just one more year, in order to divert funds into getting me started with LLR. I remember feeling overwhelmed that he believed in me enough to even suggest such a thing. When we discussed it with our kiddo, he too was on board. So we signed another lease and I joined the queue, which at that point was over 13,000. As my tentative call date crept closer, we decided to take out payday loans to cover my initial inventory, but no one would lend enough for the whole amount. My sponsor didn’t want me to have to delay onboarding, so she offered to cover the missing amount and I could pay her off as I sold inventory. That gesture cemented the incredible support system found in the LLR world for me. I finally belonged somewhere again!
I launched over the summer and my sales weren’t what I had expected at all. Where a fellow teammate had made over $3,000 on her launch weekend, I didn’t get a single sale from anyone except a teammate or two. But I kept trying, doing multi-consultant events and trying to schedule pop-ups constantly.
Then convention time came around. I was super excited! I drove out to Cali with my sponsor and met up with the rest of the team there. But once we got there, my illusion of a tight-knit sisterhood started falling apart. As soon as we got there, I started getting a very negative vibe from the teammates I shared a room with, so during our second day of convention, I spent time with the girls they criticized so harshly and had a blast! I laughed so hard that my stomach hurt by end of the day. We decided to head out of the convention center a bit early to catch a break before the “team time” at Dave & Buster’s our upline Coach, Cassandra Looper, had scheduled for everyone under her. However, we were late for the event, so Cassandra decided to not give us the free shirts that everyone else received and didn’t extend an invite for us to join the rest of them to play games. Her attitude was completely dismissive. That didn’t fit in with my image of the LuLaRoe “sisterhood.” I couldn’t wrap my brain around how this person, who made money off us, could not be understanding of us being late because we needed a break after a long day. Even more shocking still was finding out that she tried to SELL the shirts she’d made for us to other teammates later.
Due to all that went down at convention, I felt isolated once I made it back home. My sponsor pretended I didn’t exist, I couldn’t book a pop-up to save my life and my VIP sales were non-existent. The Scientology mentality had taught me to believe that if something wasn’t succeeding, it was my fault. There was no room for the thought that the market was saturated or that my inventory was too ugly to be profitable – it was all me, I was the problem. I became convinced that I had to “buy more to sell more,” so I was constantly on my husband about buying more inventory, since my stuff was old and wouldn’t move. My husband and I have always had an incredible relationship. But while I was drinking the Kool-Aid and listening to what my upline/LLR home office said, I placed that in jeopardy. I couldn’t stand the idea that I was failing at something that we had put our plans on hold for. And so I bugged him constantly about placing orders, trying to find a way to put the money together.
It wasn’t until the announcement about New Bless came towards the end of last year that I started to re-evaluate the way I was looking at things. When it came out that New Bless came with a hard credit check that had been undisclosed, I questioned the love that Deanne and Mark always professed to us consultants. I lost faith in the company when they sent out a completely flippant email about the lawsuit with CMS and all my teammates didn’t blink an eye at it. But the thing that finally pushed me off the fence I had been sitting on for months was reading posts about me becoming liable in New Bless for any fraudulent charges and having to be okay with having my money sit in LLR’s account until I transferred it out. None of those decisions were made to protect me. At that point, I had already spoken to both my sponsor and team leader about possibly having to close up shop, but I had yet to do anything formal to sever ties.
Once the reality of the situation set in, I became vocal in the LuLaRoe Defective group, commenting with my disappointment. Suddenly, I was removed from all team groups. In Scientology, if you are thought to be working against the best interest of the church or are a threat to their image, they cut you off completely and then contact your family to let them know they must cut off contact from you or receive the same treatment. Being removed from my team groups felt like that – exile. I was at work when I realized it and couldn’t help but cry. I couldn’t understand why after almost a year of being a part of that team, they could just toss me out without a word.
It took a lot of time and agonizing to get to the point where I felt I could walk away from this company. After doing our taxes, we found out we had taken a $16,000 loss. The blinds were pulled off. One of the hardest lessons I have learned as an adult is that sometimes things just don’t work out – and believe it or not, it’s NOT YOUR FAULT. The odds have been stacked against us from the start.