Chasing Success Broke Me
The road my business journey has taken is winding enough that even someone with a stomach of steel may get motion sickness. From licensed optician all the way to marketing for an engineering company, selling wedding invitations, designing merch and websites for bands, editing technical manuals, and creating content for the healthcare industry, I feel I have done a little bit of everything.
I would want to go all-in for my own business, but as a single mom trying to be an amazing provider, stability was key to my family's survival. Chasing success kept me stuck in 9-5 roles that were draining and sometimes even exploitative of my capacity, full of scope creep well beyond what I was hired to do. I would try to start little projects on the side, but my time would always get torn away to help other people or take on more tasks at work, so they would fail.
Over the years, the stress and pressure kept building. At first, it was just work stuff. But then it was work plus the stress of raising teenage boys.
The problem, which was also one of my greatest strengths, was that I was able to stuff all of the stress and overwhelm deep, deep down where I didn't feel it. Another task, another person who needed my support... I just piled them on.
And that worked. Until it didn't.
In my never-ending quest to better myself and expand my horizons, I decided that I wanted to move my career towards Product Marketing Management (PMM). It was a role that allowed me to use my marketing and design strengths while representing the people I cared about the most in business: the customer. I would be able to weave stories that fully represented the products and values of a company into the language that would speak to a person and help them feel seen, heard, and understood. I wanted to expand my role at my current company to encompass PMM work on top of everything I already did, hoping that it would help to grow the business and overcome many of the shortcomings there that I perceived. In a way, I was hoping to save the company from itself.
So I decided to take a vacation.
Well, I called it a vacation, but I was planning to work 8-12 hours a day getting 3 PMM certifications. But I was planning to do it sitting on the beach in Florida (see... vacation, right?). I figured I would drive down there, have a quick "recovery day," then start the certification work.
The morning that my trip was supposed to start, I didn't feel well... headache, stomach upset, and just overall exhaustion. I had been sleeping less than 6 hours a night for the past few years, so this would happen sometimes. But it was ok - I was going to be on vacation in a few hours, so I pushed through. I worked a half day, then started my 10-hour drive from Dallas to Pensacola.
And around mile 20, the dam broke.
Tears started streaming down my face. Sobs welled up from places in my core that I didn't even know existed. But I didn't feel sad about anything in particular.
I tried to rationalize it. "You've just been doing a lot lately, and you're crying because you've just been stressed. Just cry it out, and you'll feel better. It's just a feeling."
And the tears would stop... for a while. But then it would start all over again. So I just let the waves come. I would cry it out, assure myself it was just stress and exhaustion, and convince myself that I would feel better in the morning.
It was dark when I arrived in Pensacola, but I knew I was close to the ocean. Normally, being within 20 miles of an ocean would mean that I would have to drive down to the beach and put my feet in the water, no matter if it was raining, or midnight, or if I was about to collapse from exhaustion. The ocean was my happy place, and whenever I was near her, it would be like I was receiving a hug from my dearest friend.
But I didn't feel like touching the ocean that night. I just rolled into my hotel, fell into bed, and tried to sleep it off. "You're just tired, and that was a long drive. You'll feel better in the morning."
Morning came, but the heaviness was just as present. I was car camping on a barrier island for the next 9 days, so I decided to drive over, check out my campsite, and spend some time at the beach. Surely that would make me feel better.
The beach was nearly abandoned when I arrived. I sat and looked out over the waves, watching the gulls and terns zip back and forth. I slowly walked down the shore, looking for shells and sand dollars. Normally, I could have done this for hours or even days at a time... just me and the ocean, best friends forever.
But this time, it felt empty. I was like a robot going through the motions of what it was to be at my favorite place. But I felt nothing inside.
At night, back at my car, I would cry myself to sleep. It wasn't just a little blip of sadness. This was my life. And the stillness and silence I was surrounded by on my trip broke me.
The years of overwork, of being everything for everyone, of never stopping to take care of me and my needs... it had all stacked up into this. Trying to add that little bit more to the pile made it all crash down.
The solution, however, wasn't yet clear. I knew something had to change, but I didn't know what my first move was.
I decided to leave Pensacola after 3 days. What was the point of being away from home if all I was going to feel was this? I definitely couldn't focus on the PMM certifications, and I didn't even know if I still wanted that. How would it be possible for me to work even harder for a company that was more than happy to take more and more without even acknowledging everything I already did for them?
I watched the Blue Angels practice the morning I left. Someone watching near me was listening to a broadcast of the pilots talking to each other as they cut through the air. It was magical. Six men, working in perfect unity, and obviously enjoying every single second of their flight.
The contrast between my life and this moment was stark.
I pulled out of the parking lot and pointed my car east. Miles passed, and I felt like my thoughts kept crashing into a brick wall. I felt trapped. I was desperate to escape.
But what was I trying to escape?
I was too exhausted to do the drive in one afternoon this time, so I stopped at a hotel in Shreveport. My parents called to check in on me, and the whole story of my trip spilled out. Miles of tears. Empty beaches and an empty me. Overwhelmed. Hopeless. Exhausted.
And then, my parents did something so generous, I still get emotional thinking about it. The offered to let me come stay out with them in Nevada. We talked about what it would look like for me to quit my job and take 6 months to try to start my own business again - but this time with the luxury of no other responsibilities.
I rolled the idea around in my head for the next few days after I got home. I had worked so hard to build a career that was literally killing me, but it looked good from the outside and I was "successful" by nearly any measure. Could I give up that path, and step out into the unknown? Or would it be better to just try to find a new job, to start over, to try not to be such an overachiever and just do the work I was being paid to do without anything extra?
I knew myself well enough to understand that a new job wouldn't fix the problem. I was the problem. My constant desire to try harder and grow and achieve wouldn't change. I mean, I could change it, but to me that felt like sacrificing one of my favorite parts of myself. I loved being in the flow of a project, solving complicated problems, and crafting beautiful content and graphics. I felt alive when I was improving processes, creating efficiencies, and growing the company. I wouldn't be happy in a role where I was just "phoning it in" for the remaining 25 years of my career.
But I am a proud, independent woman. Could I handle taking a "handout" from my parents? Could I still be proud of myself? I always wanted my business venture to be "self-made"... would it still count if I accepted help along the way?
And then I had the stereotypical"death bed" conversation with myself. When I was dying, would I be happier to know that I had made a bunch of money while living a life of exhaustion that wasn't fulfilling? Or would I be more proud of myself if I took the opportunity my parents so generously offered, even if I ended up failing at the end and having to go back and get a "real job"?
I wrestled for a few days between what my head said and what my heart wanted. I had a meeting with my boss to see if we could restructure my role at the company to be something that slowed down a bit. I also tried to negotiate a part-time role in a different part of the company.
But this chance... perhaps the last chance I would get to start my dream business. The chance to wake up in the morning and do work that truly mattered to me. To use my greatest strengths and talents in a way that not only made my heart sing but also helped my favorite people in the world: people who wanted to start their own businesses but didn't know how.
And I knew I could do it. I had coached quite a few entrepreneurs over the years, helping them to shape the message, structure their systems, and marketing their products and services. I didn't always understand how, but every time I sat down to work with someone, they walked away feeling hopeful and feeling the comfort and strength of clearly knowing their next steps.
Perhaps it was time to stop casting the magic of what I do before the swine of corporate overlords.
So I made the call. I told my boss that I wouldn't be returning. I got an apartment for my younger son who was attending college in Dallas. I downsized until all of my earthly possessions could fit in the back of my car, put my house on the market, then started the drive to Reno.
My mission was clear: To build my life around helping turn dreamers into doers. I had collected so many different skills and acquired so many tidbits of knowledge along the way that I believed that I could offer ideas and suggestions for nearly every type of startup. I would have the honor and privilege of helping my favorite people every day, and together we would launch new products and services that would make the world more magical and help people live more fulfilling lives.
You don't have to wait until your whole world crashes before you start your business, though. And you don't have to wait until you have some sort of safety net or runway, either. You can start small. You can learn to maintain better boundaries around your passion project. You can build in tiny increments, like the sparks that eventually turn into bonfires. You just have to have an idea that you are in love with, and we can work with that.
I would love to help you with your business idea. I have a 12-week cohort based program called Lit if you want to launch your business with the encouragement and support of 7 other aspiring entrepreneurs. In this program, we clearly define your business idea, find your ideal customer, narrow down to your perfect product/service to launch with, set up your website, start your email list, and set you up to make your very first sale. I even create a full brand package for you, that includes a logo, colors, and fonts so you feel fully prepared to present yourself and your business to the world.
If you don't want to work with a group or if you'd like to move faster than 12 weeks, I can help you launch your business 1-on-1.
Let's have a chat if you are interested. No pressure. No obligation. Just two people who want to create new and amazing things in this world.
