I have a lot of emotion in me at the moment, a lump in my throat like I could cry at any moment.
Today was no exception. I visited my sister and asked if I could voice my thoughts, everything feels like a full time job - business, writing, love life, what’s next. (She asked if I needed tissues, nah I feel fine - famous last words).
I started with business. My passion is unfaltering; I believe in the company values and mission and genuinely can envision its future success. Product transparency ahead of the anti-sugar movement, boosting your mood and energy without the sugar crash. I love it, still see it, feel it, even. It means something.
My sister asked what parts of it I like doing. Meeting and talking to people, the product itself, customers, educating and inspiring others - more than just another in our category. Like if someone put me on a stage to talk about why my brand exists. That is where I want to be. Not business development or sales. Trying to prove myself, I loathe the hustle.
But what if to customers it is just another product? I buy it because I like (mates-rates) it in my oats, nothing more.
She made a good point. The idea derives from me and so of course it’s hard to detach my feelings and personal affection towards it.
I stepped into pitch-mode, my rebuttal: You also consciously buy it because it tastes delicious without any type of added sugar. Not unnecessarily sweetened like other brands. (Not that I’m biased or anything).
Continuing on my trail of thoughts, I also love writing - not only as a way to therapise myself but also as a hobby. {Are these not two full time jobs though, business by day and writing by night?}. I’m protective, stubborn; I would be more unhappy if I was told to stop. I could just as easily watch an episode of Game of Thrones as I could write a blog post.
To be honest, what I find most strange - impressive, almost - is how I managed to get to a state of eating disorder recovery whilst running a business. Two proper full-time jobs whose outcomes always pointed a finger at me not doing, being, enough. I never came first and yet now I realise I do, my happiness is the new priority.
My mission is salary at the moment, I’m purely driven by money. Monthly income, even if a little. Something is better than nothing. Business requires so much work, energy and stimulation for so little reward - and that hurts. For my mental health, something has to change.
So back to my to-do list:
Do I get a job in a café for the people and social aspect, or do I apply for a more formal internship or full time job? Do I reach out to magazines - perhaps start with five business and/or mental health publications and pitch my articles? But then as a freelancer I’m still working alone. Maybe I’ll go back to personal training, which I liked, or do I work in a book shop. Less brain energy, good networking, but maybe boring?
My sister felt frazzled from just listening to these options. Too much, slow down! (Imagine being inside my head…).
She then asked me if I had to pick between business and writing, right now, I can only do one, what would I pick.
That’s when I broke down. If I had to do one thing daily, at this moment in time - it’s write. More fulfilling and, quite frankly, easier than the overwhelm of running a business by myself. Knowing there is always more to be done and hurdles to jump. ‘Have you tried…?’ F*** off.
I cried. She cried. My new-born nephew cried (he didn’t, he only wants the boob). I don’t want to stop running a business but think it’s time to stop pursuing more. Naturally, maybe this is where it is meant to get to. Unless I pay more into the business to hire a team - can-absolutely-not fathom the idea of spending more of my money/ savings into it - I have to draw a line at my capabilities.
And being completely honest, would I feel a sense of relief if I stopped? Right now, no. I feel like I’m still grieving my failure to make it to work.
She hated that, said I have achieved so much, worked consistently for five (seven) years without really any break. For me? How can I justify taking a break when this supposed hard work hasn’t got me anywhere near financial stability, no tangible proof that I did anything. I can’t take a break because only those who deserve it - earned a good salary - are worthy to. They can afford to. I need money, some sense of accomplishment, a feeling of success, now more than ever before. So how can I take a break when I’ve not done enough to permit me one.
I have regrets, I wish I did things differently, I wonder what would have happened if I went through with said differences. Nelson Goodman is (meant to be) a great comfort at times like these - and who knows whether or not I would have hit a different road block if I’d gone down a different path.
Still, I can’t help but ask, why not me. Why didn’t it work. To which my sister responded that I have probably got my product into the hands of thousands of customers but not enough to give me what I want. But also just because I define success as money - and business has given me so little - does not signify I didn’t do enough. I have not failed.
But when your whole life you’ve continuously tried to do more to be more - input determines output, you are responsible for your own success - it’s hard not to see business as personal failure. My productivity and performance - and lack of - reflects on me. Without success, I’m not enough.
I cried and looked away when I said this.
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