As I sign my name next to the corporation documents, a moment of hesitation strikes: “Am I really doing this?” I’m taking a leap of faith, pouring my personal brand, my money, my identity—everything—into this new name. Not my name, but a name that represents me.
It’s thrilling. It’s exciting. And it’s terrifying. This is entrepreneurship.
I’ve had a business before, but that was easy. It was something I had done on the side for years, with income already flowing in before I signed the paperwork. It had clientele. It was built on my knowledge and my personal brand. The risk was there, but not like this. This was an idea. This was risk. This was a leap of faith.
The leap from idea to action came when I realized that this idea could actually work. Sure, I’ve had other ideas before (like the one where someone delivers gas to your house because I hate going to the gas station), but they didn’t light me up like this one. They didn’t align with my purpose. I didn’t want to start something because I hated doing something else; I wanted to start something because I loved it. And when I find something I love, I’m all in.
And others were all in, too. My business partner, Jill—who I also love—and my life partner, Matt—who has my heart. These two incredible people said yes. That gave me the confidence and the “how” to move forward.
But still, am I really doing this? What if I fail? Where does the money come from? What if I put myself out there and it doesn’t work? What if I hang a sign and one day have to take it down, showing the world that my business didn’t succeed? But then again, what if it does work? What if I hang another sign, then another? What if I bring a community together? That’s where I had to go. That’s what propelled me.
What’s an idea without a plan? I’m pretty sure someone once said, “It’s just a wish.” Well, I’m a woman in my mid-40s, and I’ve learned that sitting around making wishes does not work. So I started taking the steps. Called the real estate agent. Put the offer in. Called the bank. Spent every waking moment with Matt strategizing how to make this happen. It wasn’t about having all the answers—it was about having the right questions and the right people to help answer them.
I swallowed the fear. I joined hands with Matt and Jill, and we all counted down—5, 4, 3, 2, 1—into the unknown world of business. It felt like diving into forever-cold Lake Superior on a warm June day. Hoping the water would be warm enough to stay in but knowing that cold feet might send us running back to the safety of the shore.
Lessons Learned So Far
Lesson 1: No one is ever fully ready.
Yes, you want everything to be perfect, the timing just right. But if you wait for perfection, you’ll never start. I’m known for building things as I go, but even I had to pause and ask, Is this the time? But really, when is the perfect time? You don’t have to have all the answers—you just need to start. Each step forward brings clarity. By embracing imperfection, I found the agility to be creative. The plan didn’t need to be exact; it just needed to move toward the vision I wanted to create.
Lesson 2: Build a strong support network.
After going through a life-changing event, I learned to lean on the people around me for strength. The calls to people I admired, loved, and needed insights from gave me the push to move forward. It was the support, and even the criticism, that helped me find the courage to say yes. My network encouraged me, lifted me, and guided me. By learning from and leaning into others, I surrounded myself with a community that cheered me on.
Lesson 3: You’re going to have to be resilient.
Starting a business comes with challenges—financial, strategic, and operational. You have to be ready for disappointment and frustration. But just because things go wrong doesn’t mean everything is falling apart. Each mistake or challenge is a learning opportunity if you take the time to reflect and grow. Your purpose, values, and mission will be your compass and your guardrails when things get tough.
Lesson 4: It’s more than just the money.
Sure, it would be great if this made me an instant millionaire, but let’s be real—that’s not why I’m doing it. I’m doing this because I’m passionate about it. I see a need in my community, and I believe in the potential and opportunity. While I love my red-bottom shoes and fancy car, I don’t do this for the money. I do it so my kids see that when you do something you love, you are fulfilled. My father always said, “I don’t care what you do in life, just be the best person to ever do it.” For me, money follows passion. It’s about purpose. It’s about leaving something meaningful behind.
Lesson 5: Haters are going to hate.
As a recovering people-pleaser (and I say “recovering” lightly), I want everyone to love me. But…what if they don’t? What if they laugh at what I’m doing? What if they talk behind my back or roll their eyes? I had to learn not to care. I recently heard a quote: “No hater is doing better than you.” That stopped me in my tracks. So, I need to focus forward, not back. I’m here to support others, cheer them on, and give them feedback when asked. I’ll move forward with those who embrace that mindset too. As Taylor says, “Haters gonna hate.”
This journey is still unfolding, with lessons around time management, setting boundaries, and even bookkeeping (help!). It’s my story, filled with twists, turns, bumps, and hills. I’m so grateful for the support of my community as I navigate this exciting (and scary) new chapter.
Yes, I’m really doing this—and I couldn’t be more thrilled.
