Nearly 10 years ago, I started blogging as a way to work out whether I wanted to make the UK or US my permanent residence (still having commitment issues there!). Five years into it, the blog expanded to include brand collaborations, hotel and restaurant reviews, and more. After the birth of our eldest son two years ago, I began to work earnestly on my Instagram grid - making it a warm, inclusive, and (hopefully) beautiful place for people all over the world to drop in and participate in an admittedly curated slice of my life. I played around with product styling in my collaborations with small businesses and brands and received huge joy in documenting the ever-evolving decoration of our son's nursery. All the while, I continued to write for myself and for other online (and off-line) publications - even after I returned to my job in publishing after a year's maternity leave.
At some point in between, I dreamed of making my love for creative styling and photography into a living. But I also suffered from deep imposter syndrome: I looked at other "creatives" in the same industry online and thought my self-taught skills weren't up to standard; amateur at best, a joke at the worst.
I lay awake at night after 3 a.m. feeds, hatching up a business plan - which I managed to pick apart by sunrise, my heart sinking again.
And so, I pushed my plans onto the back burner, always finding excuses for why they wouldn't (and wouldn't ever) work.
But then, a conversation with my best friend jolted me into reality, and I realized there was only ONE person standing in the way of my dream: me.
I shot out of bed that morning and put together the post you'll find on the Services page of this blog. I didn't think too much; I didn't draft it and think about it for a few days before hitting 'publish'.
I just did it.
The next day, I launched my product styling, photography, and kids' interior design business on Instagram. I did it between slathering peanut butter onto my toddler's piece of toast and stopping a twin from licking the stroller wheels.
And then the first message landed in my inbox, asking what my availability was to take on a project. And then another. And another.
Then I checked my emails. Three more messages.
I cried. I sobbed, in fact.
When I believed in myself, others did too. And it felt incredible.
I'm still on cloud nine. I have my first client meeting this week, and I can't wait.
