In dog years, my business is 42.
In dog years, my business is 42. She’s middle-aged, not necessarily having a midlife crisis, but definitely deep in her Uranus Opposition. She has an established circle of friends, a place to call home, and enough experience to spot a “too good to be true” deal from a mile away.
But in human years? She’s only six. Born in 2019.
She’s learned the basics: how to share, be kind, clean up her toys, and follow a daily routine. She listens (most of the time) but still needs to get her wiggles out at recess. She’s discovered her personal style, loves to play, make art, be social, and chat too much with her friends and teachers. She’s got a leg up on the Kindergarteners, but lately… there’s a bully lurking on the playground.
The bully is loud and relentless, always stealing her joy and whispering about her “not enoughness.” And lately, that whisper has turned into a chorus:
“$30K months!”
“10X your sales!”
“Work 4 hours a week from the beach and make millions!”
Since when did $30K months become the universal benchmark for success no matter what kind of business you run?
My 6-year-old business is eager, diligent, a good student who follows directions to churn out a high volume of lead generating, helpful, albeit human content. But, sadly, pushing too hard on it feels like a soft wad of Play Doh pasta worms oozing out of the plastic factory thing.
The accelerated pace of our current digital world ages our business babies in dog years. The self-doubt swoops in like the fun police, wagging its finger and asking why we haven’t hit those magic numbers yet. Never mind the global economic crisis and widening income inequality. Someone’s online course will fix it all and have us lunching with Richard Branson by next quarter.
My business just wants permission to be six. To hold a grown-up’s hand when she crosses the street. To feel safe enough to play, sing, make art, and take risks and stay curious.
Many of my clients are women who left corporate leadership roles to start something of their own. They went from managing big budgets and large teams to bootstrapping their marketing and second-guessing every decision. That transition can be both exhilarating and disorienting. The whiplash is real.
So if you’re in that space too, protect the little, joyful heart of your business. Let her act her age. Let her be messy and imperfect. And love her anyway.
Until next time,
Meredith