Running businesses and raising babies is not glamorous.
It is not back-dropped with beiges and neutrals and DIY art strategically placed on the walls. It does not involve a serene moment at a marble island with oat milk in a ceramic mug while the children sleep peacefully upstairs. Nobody is actually living that. Or if they are, they have a night nurse, a nanny, a business partner handling operations, and a photographer on retainer for Mondays.
I’m not here to rant about that. I mean, I’m a little here to rant about that. But mostly I think I’m here to plead.
Or maybe to propose a plea bargain.
You: Do not skimp on the reality and necessary work of running a real business. And I: will not scream into a pillow the next time I land on the website of one more coach or consultant who also makes fresh watermelon juice, cuts sandwiches into heart shapes, and claims to run everything part time while absolutely everyone in her orbit is thriving beyond imagination. You too can have this, for the low, low price of joining her community.
Okay. Breathe.
Here’s the thing
It’s a little harsh, and I’m saying it anyway.
I am tired of women getting in their own way.
I’m tired of scrolling through my feed and absorbing the perfectly curated messaging, knowing the financials behind the scenes probably don’t reflect what’s being laid out. And look. If you are a business owner who wants to lead with a six- or seven-figure launch number or total business revenue, I have to be direct: I. Do. Not. Care.
Not because I don’t want you to succeed. The opposite.
Show me your net numbers. Show me your profit. Tell me what you actually pay yourself. Tell me whether your income is growing year over year, or whether that launch number is the ceiling, not the floor. Tell me your plan. Are you building equity with the intention to sell? Are you running at a loss, and do you know why and for how long? Is this thing generating real wealth, or is it generating the appearance of wealth while your own retirement account sits untouched?
Those are the questions. Not the revenue headline.
And if you’re the one scrolling and being influenced by these posts, these are the questions you should be asking yourself too. What are you actually being taught or shown? These are the questions discerning women learn to ask. Not because we can’t be trusting or shouldn’t give people the benefit of the doubt. But if we’re looking at what someone else has and walking away feeling jealous, or lacking, or behind, we owe it to ourselves to understand why. What specifically is making us feel that way? What is the full picture? What questions are being left unanswered by what we’re being shown?
What I’m actually looking for
I want to be surrounded by the women who strategize.
The ones who are plotting for success and laying the groundwork, without announcement, even when the numbers aren’t where they want them to be yet. And also when the numbers are where they want them to be. Show me the women who might be genuinely worried about the numbers and sit down with the P&L anyway. Who track cash flow not because it’s fun but because they understand that not looking is how smart women make expensive mistakes. Find me the women who are looking to stretch themselves and tinker and take risks, but also take care of themselves.
I’m not just talking about the online world, because online is a very loud, very filtered microcosm of what’s actually happening. There are women launching tech firms. Law firms. Marketing agencies. Sustainable food and fashion companies. Women who are hiring and firing, making decisions about equity and ownership and shareholders, negotiating terms, planning exits, building something that has real value on paper. Women who are strategically planning for the wealth they have created or are in the process of creating.
Surround me with these women.
Those women are not cutting sandwiches into hearts while taking calls. They are also probably not in your Instagram feed.
The business owners who are actually building something real are almost never the loudest ones in the room. Heck, they may not even be in the room because they are head down, doing the work, building the damn thing. They’re not announcing launch numbers. They’re reinvesting. They’re paying themselves and their teams a real salary. They’re meeting with their accountant. They’re thinking about what this is worth if they walk away from it in ten years.
That’s the conversation I want to be in.
What comes after the foundation
If you’ve built it (the business, the revenue, the team, the thing that actually runs and produces and has your name on it), you know that having a solid foundation doesn’t mean the hard questions stop. They change. They get bigger. They get lonelier.
What is this worth, and to whom, and when? What do I actually want the next ten years to look like, and is this business structured to get me there? Am I paying myself what this is worth? Do I have the right people around me, or have I outgrown the room?
Those questions don’t get asked on Instagram. They don’t fit in a caption. Most women I know are sitting with them alone, because there’s no obvious place to say them out loud.
If you have built something real, you owe it to yourself to find the women who have too. Not to perform for each other. Not to compare revenue or headcount or how many hours you’re logging. To actually talk. To ask the question you’ve been sitting on for six months. To say here’s what I’m wrestling with to someone who has the context to push back meaningfully.
Ask for help. Ask for a different perspective. Ask the woman who has been three steps ahead of where you are now what she wishes she had known. Those conversations are not weakness. At this level, they are the work.
Throughout a two decade+ career, I have leaned on study groups heavily. I have sought out input and feedback from those further along or with a different perspective. I have put myself in rooms that younger me would never (yes, clutch the pearls) have thought I belonged in. I stretched. I tinkered. I am better because of the questions I ask and the conversations I’ve been in. It’s hard when you outgrow certain groups or communities, but the best thing I’ve done for myself is to try to maintain those relationships, show gratitude, and then find the people who are able to support me in getting to the next chapter I’m heading towards.
The women building tech firms and law firms and agencies and product companies, the ones not in your Instagram feed, are out there. Some of them are sitting with the same questions you are. Some of them have already solved the one you’re stuck on.
Find them. Ask the hard thing. Don’t do this alone.
Disclaimer: I have nothing against watermelon juice. I love a good heart-shaped sandwich. I, too, find happiness in creating joyful moments for my family and friends. I’ve had my share of Pinterest fails.
Related: Women Don’t Need a Seat at the Table—The Table Needs Their Leadership