I Love What I Do. That Doesn't Mean It's Easy.

An honest reflection on building a wellness business, navigating motherhood, learning through failure, and why I'm creating space for other practitioners to grow.

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about how hard it actually is to start a wellness business, especially because I’m now at this really interesting point in mine where I’m creating a physical space for other wellness practitioners to grow their businesses.

It has made me think back to when I started and how little I actually knew about what I was getting myself into.

When you decide to become a yoga teacher, consultant, therapist, coach, massage therapist, somatic healer, facilitator, or whatever your modality might be, you usually do it because you genuinely love the work. You take the course, get the certification, learn the modality and get excited about helping people. Then suddenly you’re supposed to know how to build a website, market yourself, price your services, create content, find clients, understand taxes, sell yourself without feeling gross, network, manage bookings and somehow convince strangers on the internet to trust you.

Nobody really prepares you for that part.

My business has changed so many times over the years. I’ve taught yoga, worked with people one-on-one, hosted retreats, facilitated workshops, created networking events, consulted with businesses and wellness practitioners, started Wellness Club Niagara and tried a lot of things in between. Some of those things worked really well. Some absolutely did not.

I’ve sold out events and I’ve cancelled events because not enough people registered. I’ve created offers I was so excited about that barely got any interest. I’ve spent money on things that didn’t give me the return I expected. I’ve changed my mind, changed direction and questioned whether I was making the right decision more times than I could count.

There have also been so many times where I’ve looked at another person in this industry and wondered why it seemed easier for them.

Why can they announce a class and people immediately sign up? Why does that person barely post on social media but always seem to have clients? Why am I putting so much effort into something and hearing crickets?

The longer I’ve been doing this, the more I’ve realized how much we don’t see.

We don’t see the years someone spent building relationships before their classes started selling out. We don’t see the clients who came through word of mouth, the events that failed before the successful one, the money they invested, the second job they had while they built their practice or the years they spent becoming known and trusted in their community.

That has probably been one of my biggest lessons in business: trust takes time.

And I think that can be especially frustrating in wellness because most of us didn’t get into this industry because we wanted to become marketers. We got into it because we cared about the work.

But being good at what you do and knowing how to build a business around it are two completely different skills.

I’ve had to learn both.

I’ve had to learn how to talk about what I do without feeling like I’m constantly selling myself. I’ve had to become more comfortable charging for my time and expertise. I’ve had to learn that something not selling doesn’t necessarily mean it was a terrible idea. Sometimes the timing was wrong. Sometimes I didn’t communicate it well. Sometimes people simply didn’t want it. And sometimes I had to admit that I loved an idea more than my audience did.

That last one hurts a little, lol.

I’ve also had to stop trying to make my business look like everybody else’s.

For a long time, I struggled with how all the pieces of what I do fit together. Yoga, wellness, business consulting, events, retreats, community building, spirituality… on paper, it can look like a lot. I wondered if I needed to pick one thing and stay there because that’s what we’re constantly told to do online.

But I don’t think I’m meant to do one thing.

The common thread in my work has always been helping people feel more confident creating a life and business that actually feels like theirs. Sometimes that happens on a yoga mat. Sometimes it happens during a business consultation. Sometimes it happens at a networking event when two people meet and end up working together.

And then I became a mom, and my relationship with my business changed all over again.

I love my work, and I also don't want to build a business that requires every piece of me to survive.

I have a daughter now. I want to be present with her. I want evenings where I’m not answering emails. I want to be able to have a slower week without feeling like everything is going to fall apart. I’m still ambitious and I still have approximately 700 ideas at any given time, but I think motherhood has forced me to think much more seriously about sustainability.

What am I actually building? How much of my time does it require? Do I even want the version of “success” that I’m chasing?

I don’t have all of those answers yet.

I think that’s another thing we need to normalize in entrepreneurship. You can be years into your business and still be figuring it out. You can be experienced and still get nervous about a launch. You can have successful events and still have an event flop. You can know a lot about marketing and still struggle to market yourself sometimes.

I certainly do.

But all of those experiences have also made me really passionate about supporting other wellness practitioners because I understand how many barriers there are when you’re trying to build something on your own.

One of the biggest ones is space.

I’ve talked to so many practitioners who are mostly virtual or working from home but would love the option to see someone in person. Others want to host a small workshop or class but don’t want their own studio. Some are just starting and absolutely cannot justify taking on a commercial lease, furnishing a room, paying utilities and carrying all of that overhead before they even know what their business is going to look like.

And honestly, why should that be the only option?

That question has been a huge part of what led me to this next chapter with Wellness Club Niagara.

I’m creating a physical wellness space in Niagara Falls where independent practitioners can have access to a professional space while continuing to operate completely as their own businesses. It isn’t about joining my team or changing your brand to fit mine. I want people to be able to grow their thing, keep their independence and have access to a space and community that makes doing that a little more sustainable.

It feels very full-circle for me because I know how hard it is to start.

I know what it feels like to wonder if anyone is going to sign up. I know what it’s like to question your pricing, your offers and yourself. I know how tempting it is to look at someone who has been doing this for ten years and compare their business to your first year.

And even now, as I take on a commercial space and grow Wellness Club Niagara, I’m still figuring things out as I go.

I don't think there is a point where you suddenly arrive and feel completely certain about everything. I think you just build a little more trust in yourself each time you try something, learn from it and keep going.

So if you’re in the beginning stages of your wellness business, or maybe you’ve been doing this for a while and it still feels messy sometimes, I hope you know that you’re probably not as behind as you think you are.

Building something takes time.

And I’m hoping this next chapter of Wellness Club Niagara can make building it feel a little less lonely.

If you’re an independent wellness practitioner in Niagara and you’re looking for a space to see clients, host your offerings and grow your own business without taking on the commitment of your own commercial space, you can learn more about our new Wellness Club Niagara space and Founding Membership on my website.

We’re just getting started. 🤍