Something Has Got to Give.

I’m overwhelmed.

Ignore the make-up and the nicely arched brows. I play in paint when I'm stressed. lol

There. That’s the post. 😂

Okay, not really.

But that’s probably the most accurate way to start this.

I’ve been struggling lately with finding ideas that stick.

Not ideas. Lord knows I have plenty of those.

I mean the kind that settle into your bones and make you think, Yes. This is where I’m supposed to be.

I’ve thought about doing something completely different.

I’ve worked jobs. I’ve gotten good jobs. I’ve looked at opportunities that, on paper, should make me perfectly content.

And still…

Something doesn’t FEEL right.

I’ve had to admit something about myself that I’ve probably known for a very long time:

I don’t think I’m meant to work for anyone.

But—and this is important—

I am DEFINITELY not meant to work myself into the ground just for the sake of saying I’m an owner, founder or CEO.

Because what exactly is the prize there?

A cute title and exhaustion?

No ma’am.

Something has got to give.

Entrepreneurship gets presented in such a strange way.

We’re either wildly successful, drinking something expensive on a Tuesday afternoon because #Freedom…

or we’re dramatically failing.

There doesn’t seem to be enough room for the middle.

And the middle is where a lot of us actually live.

Business is good.

Then it’s slow.

Then you have an amazing week.

Then you’re staring at your numbers wondering what the hell happened.

People tell you they love the brand.

You get the emails.

The compliments.

The shares.

The “OMG, I love this!”

And I appreciate every single one.

But then I look at the sales and think:

Okay… so where y’all at? 😂

Because compliments are wonderful.

Unfortunately, my mortgage company remains deeply committed to American currency.

Your friends are not your customers.

Whew.

This one.

Your friends are not automatically your audience.

Your family isn’t either.

And learning that has been pivotal for me.

Out of all the people I’ve called friends over the years, fewer than a handful have actually purchased something, consistently shared a post, or even regularly liked one.

Ha!

That used to bother me more than it does now.

Because I’ve learned something else:

The people meant for what you’re building don’t always come from the places you expected them to.

Sometimes a complete stranger will support you harder than someone who’s known you for twenty years.

They’ll buy.

Come back.

Tell somebody.

Send an email that arrives on the exact day you were wondering whether any of this was making sense.

And somehow, God has always made sure those people find me.

Favor is definitely not fair.

And I don’t say that lightly.

There have been moments when I genuinely did not know how something was going to work.

And God came through.

Not halfway.

Not just enough.

In places where I felt like I was running on empty, somehow He supplied what I couldn’t.

Over and over again.

This “lil” business?

She’s helped make mortgage payments.

Current ones AND past-due ones.

Let’s talk about it.

Because entrepreneurship isn’t always reinvesting profits into your next fabulous launch.

Sometimes entrepreneurship is:

Thank God, the mortgage is paid.

Sometimes the money you thought was going toward the business has somewhere much more urgent to be.

Sometimes you have to choose between the thing that would make the brand prettier and the thing that keeps your actual life functioning.

That’s business too.

And here’s something else nobody likes talking about.

When a business does exactly what it’s supposed to do, people generally go about their day.

Order arrives.

Everything is right.

They enjoy it.

Life continues.

But let something go wrong?

BABY.

Now everybody has Wi-Fi. 😂

The review gets written.

The post gets made.

The screenshots are ready.

And listen—I understand it. Bad experiences deserve attention.

But it’s interesting from the other side.

You can quietly do right by hundreds of people and still wonder whether anybody noticed.

Then one person sends you a thoughtful message.

Someone places another order.

Someone you’ve never met recommends you to someone else.

And suddenly you’re sitting there like:

Okay, God. I heard you.

Right now, I’m trying to figure out what’s next.

I know I want more.

I’m just not entirely sure what more looks like yet.

More sales would be nice.

Let’s start there. 😂

But beyond that, I want something that feels sustainable.

Something I can be proud of without it consuming every waking hour.

Something people don’t just tell me they love, but actually support.

Something that gives back some of what I’ve poured into it.

Because I’m looking at the reality too.

Funds are getting lower.

The cost of doing business isn’t.

Every new idea requires another investment.

Every improvement has a price attached to it.

And sometimes you’re spending money based entirely on what you hope happens next.

That’s scary.

Especially when you’re funding the dream while the dream is also occasionally funding you.

I’m not going to pretend I’ve figured that part out.

I haven’t.

I’m still not stopping.

That’s the funny part.

After everything I just wrote, you’d think the conclusion would be:

Maybe it’s time to quit.

Absolutely not. 😂

That’s not even an option I’m considering.

I may change direction.

I may have to choose a few ideas when I desperately want to do fifteen.

I may have to rethink what success is supposed to look like.

And I definitely need to figure out how to build something that supports my life without requiring me to sacrifice my entire life to support it.

But stop?

No.

I don’t think this is me giving up.

I think this is me being honest enough to say:

I can’t keep doing everything the same way and expect something different to happen.

So something has got to give.

I’m just making sure it isn’t me.

Anyway.

I needed to vent.

Thanks for coming to my TED Talk. 😂

— RI