The Business Was Fine. I Was Having an Identity Crisis.

Apparently, watching everyone else build their empire is a fantastic way to forget you're supposed to be building your own.

It was one of those afternoons.

Laptop open. Coffee nearby. My to-do list sitting across the desk, judging me like it paid the damn bills.

And there I was, sighing dramatically.

"I should've had this done yesterday."

And just like that, I was off to the races.

I should've answered that email.

I should've posted on LinkedIn.

I should've followed up with that potential client.

I should've done approximately 700 other things that suddenly felt like life-or-death situations.

The funny part?

None of it was urgent.

But you couldn't tell me that. I was apparently running a Fortune 500 company, performing emergency surgery, and saving the world before lunch.

Meanwhile, my actual business was sitting there, wondering what the hell was going on.

Everybody Was Building Something. Except Me. Apparently.

There was a season when I seriously considered giving up on my business.

And the ridiculous part is that my business wasn't necessarily the problem.

I was watching other virtual assistants launch programs, introduce services, scale their agencies, and reinvent themselves.

Every time I opened social media, somebody had a new announcement.

A new offer.

A new website.

A new business model.

And there I was, wondering whether I was doing enough.

Suddenly, the business I'd worked so hard to build didn't seem particularly impressive.

Never mind what I'd already accomplished. I was too busy keeping tabs on what everybody else was doing.

I had convinced myself that if I wasn't doing everything they were doing, I was somehow falling behind.

So naturally, I decided to make some questionable financial decisions.

Add to Cart. Add to Cart. Add to Cart.

What does a woman experiencing an entrepreneurial identity crisis do?

Apparently, she goes shopping.

I signed up for a course.

Purchased new software.

And decided I was going to reinvent my entire business model in four weeks.

FOUR WEEKS.

Because nothing says sound business judgment like attempting to rebuild your entire livelihood while you're already overwhelmed.

I had plans, honey.

The kind of plans that require color-coded calendars, an unreasonable amount of coffee, and a version of yourself who apparently doesn't require sleep.

And what happened?

Absolutely nothing.

Well, that's not entirely true.

I managed to spend money and exhaust myself.

The course? Half-finished.

The software? Abandoned after the free trial.

The shiny new business model? Scrapped before it ever saw the light of day.

An expensive little adventure, if you ask me.

And the worst part was that I couldn't even explain why I'd wanted half that stuff in the first place.

Who the Hell Was I Building This Business For?

That was the question I eventually had to ask myself.

Because somewhere between watching everybody else's accomplishments and questioning my own, I'd stopped paying attention to what I actually wanted.

I wasn't making decisions based on my goals.

I was making decisions based on what other people were doing.

And every time somebody announced something new, I felt obligated to reconsider everything.

Did I need another service?

Should I launch a course?

Was I supposed to be scaling?

Did I need a completely different business model?

Girl.

At some point, I had to wonder whether I was running a business or collecting entrepreneurial personalities.

I had spent years building the experience and skills that allowed me to work for myself.

Yet here I was, allowing strangers on the internet to dictate my next move.

They weren't paying my bills.

They weren't managing my clients.

And they certainly weren't going to reimburse me for another course I didn't finish.

That last part was particularly offensive.

My To-Do List Needed to Mind Its Business

Eventually, I started questioning the things I was putting on my plate.

Why did that email need an immediate response?

Who decided I needed to post today?

Why was I considering another offer when I hadn't finished working on the one I already had?

And my personal favorite:

Would I even want to do this if I hadn't seen somebody else doing it?

That question was uncomfortable.

Because sometimes the answer was no.

I'd created deadlines nobody had given me. Added responsibilities nobody had asked me to take on. And somehow convinced myself that every unfinished task represented a personal failure.

I was both the employee being overworked and the unreasonable boss assigning the work.

Imagine that performance review.

I Had to Stop Competing in a Race I Never Entered

Here's something I've had to learn about working for myself.

There's always going to be somebody doing more.

Somebody launching something.

Somebody making an announcement that makes you wonder whether you should be making an announcement, too.

Good for them.

But their business decisions don't automatically belong on my calendar.

I had to get comfortable asking myself what I actually wanted my business to look like.

What did I enjoy doing?

What was making money?

What was consuming my time without giving me much in return?

And perhaps most importantly, what kind of life was I trying to build outside my business?

Because I didn't leave traditional employment just to become the world's most demanding boss.

Especially when the employee is also me.

Respectfully, My Imaginary Deadlines Can Kiss My Ass

These days, when I catch myself slipping into that familiar spiral, I have a little conversation with myself.

Does this actually need to happen today?

Is this something I genuinely want?

Am I making this decision because it benefits my business, or because I saw somebody else doing it?

Sometimes the answer means getting back to work.

Sometimes it means deleting something from my calendar.

And sometimes it means admitting that I have absolutely no business purchasing another course.

I'm still ambitious.

I still have big plans.

And yes, I still occasionally look at my to-do list and wonder who the hell put all that stuff on there.

Unfortunately, I know exactly who did.

But I'm getting better at recognizing when I've turned somebody else's accomplishments into my own imaginary obligations.

As for today?

I'll be over here drinking my oat milk coffee, minding my business, and letting everybody else mind theirs.

I have enough personalities to manage without borrowing somebody else's entrepreneurial identity.