The Week I Almost Quit My Business

A few weeks ago, I was ready to quit.

Maybe I wouldn’t have actually gone through with it. I think a few people who love me would have talked me out of it. But I felt like shutting everything down, popping open a Grapefruit Spindrift, and saying, “that was a good run,” while I kicked back on the beach.

It was just one of those weeks.

My inbox was full of rude, entitled people demanding things they didn’t deserve—the kind of demands they’d never make of Target after using a blanket they bought there three years ago. On top of that, I got yet another antisemitic comment on Instagram telling me the world would be better without Jews. (You want to live in a world without bagels and pastrami on rye? Good luck with that.)

I don’t have weeks like this often. But I talk to you about the big launches, the fancy masterminds, the behind-the-scenes moments at cool conferences—and I’m not willing to share the wins without being honest about this side of owning a business too.

Business Is Like a Marriage: Parts of It Are Hard

You know how people always say “marriage is hard”? I like to think of it differently: there are parts of marriage—especially certain seasons—that are hard. It’s difficult to cohabitate with someone. To merge lifestyles. To agree on the “right” way to load a dishwasher. Legally merging your life with another person was never going to be easy all the time.

I feel the same way about business.

It’s not that “owning a business is hard,” full stop. That’s a dangerous mindset, because it makes you see everything as hard instead of as a challenge or an opportunity worth tackling.

But there are parts of owning a business that are hard:

• Offering refunds to rude customers who don’t deserve one, because it’s easier than dealing with the alternative
• Figuring out how to calculate quarterly taxes when you don’t know what you’ll make
• Believing in yourself and what you’re building before you have the bank account or audience to prove it’s working

I’m not telling you this to discourage you. Right now, you might just want another customer—rude or not, as long as they pay their bill. I’m telling you this as one friend to another: this is normal.

Bad Weeks Feel Like the End of the World. They’re Not.

Bad weeks feel enormous in the moment. Then things even out. You remember why you’re doing this. You remember it’s supposed to be hard sometimes.

If you’ve had a week like this lately, I’m cheering you on. Let it be a bad week. Stop trying to force it into a good one—just let it be what it is.

Talk to a friend. Take a walk. Do something offline. Try something you’re bad at (tennis, for me) and remember what it feels like to be a beginner again. It’s humbling, in the best way.

The Weeks That Restore Me

I’m writing this from my patio in Colorado Springs, overlooking orange mountains, on Day 1 of one of the highlights of my business life right now: a mastermind with people I’m lucky to call friends—people who feel more like work family. No guru leading the room. No lectures. Just connection in nature and a lot of “yeah, me too.”

These are the weeks that restore me.

I love my business, even if I don’t love it every single day. I love the people I’ve met. The customers I’ve helped. The work I get to do. I’m full, and grateful, and honestly can’t believe I wanted to quit.

If this resonated, I’d love to hear from you—comment below and let me know how you’re doing.