The Messy Middle
shifting ground
I’m in a season of my life where everything feels like it’s shifting under my feet, and I’m trying to steady myself long enough to figure out what comes next. One of the biggest shifts this year… I lost my photography studio a few months ago… and… it hurt. That studio was more than four walls. It was the type of place I dreamed about back when I was renting spaces, shooting in shared studios, or making do with whatever room I could find. It was the place I admired when my friend and mentor, Saray Taylor-Roman, had the space and built her photography business in it. The one I worked my way up to, the one I earned, made my own creative sanctuary and made me feel like my business had truly blossomed into everything I hoped it would be.
And to be clear, I haven’t stopped being a photographer. My business is still here. I’m still creating. I’m still serving clients. But saying goodbye to that space… that chapter, that dream… came with a weight I wasn’t prepared for.
a year of celebration
What hit me the hardest wasn’t just having to move out of my studio, it was what that moment represented. It forced me to look at a year I thought would be full of celebration and continued growth… that instead turned into something completely different. I walked into 2025 believing it would be a milestone year: my 40th birthday, my husband’s 50th birthday, a decade of marriage, and ten years in business. I had plans. Beautiful, detailed, exciting plans. I imagined joy and ease and reflection. I imagined a year that finally gave me space to breathe after so much stress and transition. I imagined feeling proud of where I stood. Instead, it became a year of surviving the times… emotionally, financially, and mentally. Life has a way of shifting your path right when you think you have the map figured out. It’s been a year of unexpected challenges, hard decisions and learning to sit with the kind of uncertainty that makes you question everything you thought you knew. And while I wasn’t ready to face any of it, I couldn’t avoid it either.
the quiet struggles
Now what once was my studio… is now things packed up in boxes in my home. What people don’t see is how often I walked past those boxes because I didn’t have the capacity to deal with them. They don’t see how something as simple as a pile of boxes can feel like a mirror, reflecting every hard moment from the last year back at you. They don’t see that some days, those boxes felt heavier than the things inside them. They don’t see how many times I sat on the edge of the couch, staring at it all, knowing exactly what needed to be done but feeling frozen. Not lazy. Just… tired. Tired in a way that sleep doesn’t fix. Tired in a way that comes from carrying too much for too long.They don’t see how many nights I lay awake reevaluating what I want, who I am now, and what the next version of my business and life is supposed to look like. Entrepreneurship asks so much of us, and most of that work happens in silence… behind the scenes, behind closed doors, behind the smile you put on because clients still need you, family still needs you, and bills still need to be paid.
rebuilding inside & out
Going through my boxes from the studio means I’m finally facing the pieces of a chapter I wasn’t ready to close. Every bin, every backdrop, every dress from my client wardrobe… all of it has been sitting there waiting for me to make decisions I didn’t have the strength to make before now. Sorting through it takes emotional work, not just physical. It’s choosing what goes to storage, what gets donated, what gets thrown away, and what still has a place in my life. It’s confronting the reality of what I’ve lost while slowly creating space, both literally and mentally, for what’s next. It’s slow, quiet, and unglamorous… but it’s real, and it matters.
This season of my life isn’t polished. It’s not curated or trendy. It’s not the kind of story that fits neatly into a motivational post. It’s raw and humbling and uncomfortable. But it’s honest. And showing this part of the journey matters to me because too many entrepreneurs only reveal the highlight reel. Sometimes we hide the part where we’re regrouping, redefining our purpose, learning new ambitions, and figuring out what the next chapter looks like. Those things aren’t always easy or something we WANT to show. I don’t want to hide that. I want people to see that you can lose a studio and still run a business. You can feel lost and still be dedicated. You can grieve what didn’t work out and still make space for what’s next. There is power in new beginnings. There is wisdom in trying again.
moving forward
I don’t have a perfect plan yet, and I’m learning to be okay with that. What I do have is a willingness to keep going, even if the steps are small. I have the desire to be honest about the parts of entrepreneurship that don’t make it onto social media often. I have a quiet strength that reminds me that surviving this year… with everything stacked against me… is its own kind of badassery.
If you’re in your own messy middle, whether it’s business, identity, burnout, or life refusing to line up the way you imagined… I want you to know you’re not alone. You’re not behind. You’re not failing. You’re becoming. Beginnings don’t always start with excitement and clarity. Sometimes they start with a living room full of boxes and the courage to show up anyway. Sometimes they start after getting fired from a job and having no clue what to do next.. but you know exactly what you DON’T want to do. (That was my beginning 10 years ago.) Sometimes they start with realizing you need to pivot, when you thought you knew how your journey would look and life has other plans. Sometimes they start with an idea that you have and no clue how to bring to fruition… but you take small steps towards figuring it out. Sometimes… they start with a really good, soul cleansing cry.
If you want to see a small glimpse of what this season looks like in real time, I shared a video on YouTube that captures a piece of this transition. It’s honest. It’s imperfect. But it’s real.
Thanks for reading.
