I'm desperate

Are you too?

Proof that life is better with partners in crime, particularly when the going gets tough.

On Saturday, on my flight from Minneapolis to Reno, I decided I would use the 20 free minutes of WiFi to continue catching up on my life. I opened up iMail, flicked my fingers up on my mouse pad, and waited for my inbox to stop scrolling and land on whatever message meant for my attention. There were so many unread messages that felt like the only logical way to start.

I’d like to buy two S’s and solve the puzzle Alex: Asshole

I was aghast—but not surprised—I had messages more than a year old that I really should have responded to. And I don’t use the word should as in a “society tells me this is important so I guess I’ll do it. I mean should as in kind and generous emails from people who read my newsletters, potential business opportunities, receipts to catalog for our bookkeeping, and more, were all just sitting there, back to the spring of 2023. As I hit delete and filed others away, I found myself sinking into the guilt of why I had not taken the 20 minutes to sort this all out every week, for all those 54-plus weeks. 

I know why.

If you’ve been following along for long enough, you know why too. I was so overwhelmed with my life I couldn’t eke out anything more. We all have the same 24 hours in a day and I had easily filled mine. There was nothing left to give. 

Unchecked emails might seem superfluous, but I know what it says about me. I used to pride myself on a zero inbox, getting through them all each week. And then it all caught up to me. It was likely a combination of the pandemic, peri-menopause (yep, I said it), so many years of grinding, and the general exhaustion many of us find ourselves in because of the uncontrollable and unpredictable world that surrounds us.

It was yet another moment to reflect and re-evaluate, which I wrote about a few weeks ago. 

Since that first week of June when I began to settle into my old/new life, I launched my first offering, Straight Talkin’. Nine people joined me weekly to explore why we do and don’t do things important to our business and our careers, uncovering the conscious and subconscious context around our decision-making and thought processes. I’ve been doing this work for years, thanks to the support of a dear friend and mentor, Rayona Sharpnack who founded the Institute For Women’s Leadership, who called me out on my shit a few months ago, encouraging me to get off the hamster wheel and instead start focusing on work that not only fuels my soul, but helps me pay my rent.

Yes, pay my rent. 

I’ve been consumed with work because it’s never been easy, nor has it been enough. Most people would have walked away a long time ago, but I’m relentless. I believe Coalition—the only women-owned and operated ski and snowboard manufacturer in the world—needs to exist. Who else is going challenge the dominant narrative of snowsports and demonstrate things can be done differently? The goal has always been to create a space for people who didn’t feel seen, heard, or welcomed, and I do believe our small (read micro) team has made strides in that. But at a significant cost.

While I do believe we’ll continue to exist in the future (knock on wood, fingers crossed, holding my breath through the tunnel), I didn’t pull it off the way I wanted to. It’s felt so close for years, particularly after the significant bump we saw in the pandemic, but since 2022, it’s all been trending down.

Is this what desperation looks like?

I know I’m not the only business owner who has been absolutely going through it. More often than not, we keep it to ourselves for fear of looking foolish. No one wants to fail publicly, but what wins do we miss out on because of our lack of transparency? What is possible if we had honest conversations? What if we’re sitting on each other’s solutions? Nothing good can come from us pretending that everything is working and yet it’s not. 

Is desperation suffering silently and alone, or is it being honest about what it means to be a small business owner (or freelancer or creative) and finding solace in community? We don’t need to feel bad and operate from a place of scarcity and fear.

We can do it differently.

That’s why I’m launching the Get Shit Done Club: Tackling the nitty gritty of starting, running, and ending a business, creative project, or big life goal together. If you’d like to get on the waitlist, click here.

Tomorrow I board a flight for Nairobi. We’ll see how many emails I get through on those three flights. I’ll be in Kenya for six weeks, cycling across the country as a fundraiser for Zawadisha and working with our team there. I can’t wait to share this experience with you. Kenya is a second home to me and I sometimes I have pinch myself when I think I’ve built a life there over the past 20 years. If there’s anything in particular you’d like for me to share, feel free to send me a DM.

xxoo,

Jen

What a wonderful feeling it’s been to “fail” at our brick-and-mortar and now have the space to engage in a really meaningful way with all of you.

If the Get Shit Done Club doesn’t resonate with you, I’m working on a few other offerings that you can check out below.