The Grind They Don’t Talk About: 14 Years In and It’s Still Damn Hard

After 14 years of entrepreneurship, here’s the truth: it’s still hard. No glamor, no fluff—just grit, tears, and why I’m still doing it.

I never set out to be an entrepreneur. I sure as heck wasn’t reading The 4-Hour Workweek or manifesting a life on the Amalfi Coast with a laptop and a spritz (which is where it seems like everyone is this summer btw. Good for them).

I had just come off a year of backpacking around the world (yup, I did that!), was living in Spain, teaching English (which I hated), and needed to make more money. That’s it. I had time, I had energy, I wanted to use my brain, and I needed cash flow.

Fast forward to today—14 years later—and I’ve built a successful business, managed millions of dollars in brand deals, and coached dozens of agency CEOs and talent managers. And still, I want to be really honest with you:

Running your own business is not glamorous. It is not easy. And it does not get easier the longer you do it.

In 2023—my twelfth year in business—it was the hardest year I’ve ever had.

I couldn’t pay myself for nearly two months. My high five-figure business savings (which I was so grateful to have) ran out. The campaign side of my business slowed to a crawl, and there was a moment where I looked at my numbers and thought: “I don’t know how I’m going to keep going.”

[I honestly don’t know how I did it, other than continuing to show up.]

And then, as if that weren’t enough, I had two massive personal challenges land at the same time: a surprise hip surgery and a major, expensive construction project at home that went completely sideways & off the rails.

I cried. A lot.

I swore (sorry mom). A lot.

But I didn’t quit.

Because when my back is against the wall, I will always bet on myself. I got scrappy. I created new offers. I leaned into consulting and coaching. And I kept going—not because it was fun or easy—but because I needed to. Because I'm wildly optimistic.

Because finding a new job and building something from scratch would've taken longer. And because—thank God—my day-to-day life is lean and my people (my man, my family, my friends) kept me afloat emotionally when I was treading water (sinking??) professionally.

The thing no one tells you about entrepreneurship—especially in an unpredictable industry like mine—is how volatile it is.

I don’t get paid until my creators get paid. And I don’t get paid quickly. Even when a contract says net 30, it’s often net 45 or net whenever. I’m at the end of the food chain, behind my creators who are also at the end of the food chain. I’m just hanging on for dear life to that food chain.

And if I didn’t have other income streams—coaching, consulting—I don’t know how I’d make this work.

So, if you’re thinking about starting a business, here’s what I want you to know:

Ideas are easy. Possibility is intoxicating. But what actually matters is consistency.
Showing up. Year after year.
Turning your business into something that pays your bills—not just fills your dreams.

Entrepreneurship is not a Pinterest board. It’s long airport nights, late invoices, creative pivots, and reminding yourself daily why you started. It’s being good at what you do, and still hitting walls. It’s impact and instability. Grit and gratitude.

I still love it. I choose to work a lot. I want to work a lot. I get so much joy out of my clients, the creativity, the moments of real impact and recognition.

But I won’t pretend it’s easy.
I won’t dress it up.
And I won’t gatekeep the truth.

Because maybe you need to hear what I needed to remember:
You can be good at what you do and go through hard seasons.
You can hit a wall and still be worthy of being in the room.
You can cry and still show up the next day and kill it.

And for what it’s worth? 2011 me would be so proud of the woman I’ve become. She’d say: “God damn, get after it, woman.”

And I’m still getting after it.
Even on the days when it’s hard.
Especially on the days when it’s hard.

Because here’s the thing they don’t tell you:
It’s not just about surviving the hard seasons.
It’s about choosing to stay in the ring.

To bet on yourself—again and again.
To find joy in the chaos.
To build a life that doesn’t look perfect on paper, but feels right in your bones.

This isn’t a cautionary tale.
It’s a reminder that the grind is real—and so is the growth that comes with it.
If you’re in it, too: I see you. Keep going.

We’re not here because it’s easy.
We’re here because we can’t imagine doing anything else.

Until next time,