There is an old cliche that says, “Health is the ultimate wealth.” Like me, many have heard this and agreed with it, even if we let it go in one ear and out the other. I thrived off being the “it” person. I enjoyed others looking to me to be “it” and do “it” all—whether “it” was being a parent, serial entrepreneur, traveling speaker, event host or winner of awards showcasing how hard I’d worked and how seemingly good life was.
There was not a day in my life since 2015 where my schedule allowed time for me to just be. I planned it that way. When I started my business, I used my communication skills to help others write and publish their stories, but it was out of necessity. As I found my footing and pivoted to using my skills in marketing and publicity, it was out of desire. I needed to prove to myself and to others that the traditional way of work was not the only path to success.
In the summer of 2019, I experienced a significant life event that left me traumatized and ushered me into a four-and-a-half-year bout with major clinical depression, which led to manic anxiety. I ended up chatting with a mindset coach who listened to me for an hour and recommended I see a therapist.
I didn’t want to, but shortly after that chat, I found myself in front of my laptop screen, pouring out my guts and spilling tears to a therapist. On top of weekly, and sometimes daily therapy sessions (which helped a lot), I was trying to manage my mental health and mask it all, while my business grew by leaps and bounds. For all intents and purposes, the growing business and bank account had me on top of the world during the day. But when night came, every moment was a blur, and every minute that passed seemed unbearable.
Labor Day weekend of 2021, something had to give. I had to choose between keeping the business or saving my life. I chose the latter. I sent a video message to my team and my roster of clients, letting them know I had decided to close due to personal reasons. Most understood. Some responded unfavorably and in ways I’ll never forget. And just like that, the bank accounts I once adored became a reminder that, in some way, I had failed.
Now I look back, and I don’t see failure, nor do I see loss. I see lessons. While on my hiatus, I learned three life lessons every entrepreneur can find helpful.
Lesson one: You need a silent business partner—a therapist
“Therapists are the partners who help us dismantle limiting beliefs, unpack unprocessed trauma, and—most importantly—guide us to honor boundaries that protect both our well-being and the sustainability of our businesses,” says Dr. Ajita Robinson, board-certified grief and trauma therapist, trainer and author.
While starting therapy seemed to be way out of the norm, it was the catalyst to seeing not only just how bad things had become, but also how much better they could be. Every week, I sat down and shared parts of my story while my therapist challenged me to allow myself to feel and to set boundaries to keep me safe.
I learned that journaling daily, delegating tasks in my home and business that could save me time and replacing negative thoughts with positive affirmations, introduced major life-changing habits. Within a few months, I could think more clearly and make decisions from a place of clarity, not confusion. Sometimes a trusted voice outside your circle of friends and family can make all the difference.
Lesson two: Immerse yourself in new physical environments
While I’m a fan of hopping on a plane and leaving the country, during these two years I took smaller staycations all over my hometown of Atlanta, Georgia. More often than not, getting out of my condo and taking a break to see new surroundings offered a place of sanctuary, and I could feel my creativity coming back. New environments can spark new ideas and enthusiasm. My nervous system felt at ease in new spaces, allowing me to continue my self-work and work within my business without feeling pressured.
Lesson three: Build a thriving relationship with total rest
“Rest is not a luxury; it’s a business strategy. When entrepreneurs don’t take the time to pause and reflect, their creativity and decision-making abilities suffer,” says Robinson.
Rest is a word that scares high-performing, high-achieving, success-driven individuals like me, especially in the building phase. While rest once translated to being unproductive and wasting time, rest for me now is a gateway to wellness. Therapy and new environments have helped me tap into knowing what kind of rest I need, be it physical, social, spiritual, mental or emotional.
Complaining about burnout but not working to fix it had become my vice. Daily naps, meditation, journaling and unplugging from technology became my virtue.
Making the decision to step away from the hustle and grind of entrepreneurship thrust me into a journey that I didn’t think was possible. I learned more about myself and others by taking time away to sit outside and look on. While I’ve had to adjust my cost of living dramatically (no more next-day flights to Mexico or splurges in luxury brand stores), after two years of being in limbo, I’ve embarked on a new journey as a full-time business professor at a noted university for creatives.
I have a newfound respect for those who decide to chart their territory by building from the ground up, and I also have a newfound reverence for those who choose to help another person build their dream. I never thought I’d go back to full-time employment so soon, but I’m grateful that my business chops helped me grow into a well-rounded professional with transferable skills.
No matter what, I’m thankful for every lesson I’ve learned over this past decade and especially in the two years that I took away from entrepreneurship. Right now, I’m not building a full-fledged company again, but I am back to consulting and working on small projects that interest me. And if I’m honest, I feel more successful now, living and learning, than I ever did running my company. Doing less is doing more. That’s good news.
Photo courtesy fizkes/Shutterstock.com
