Eighteen months in: what self-employment has taught me

In January 2024, I was laid off.

It hit harder than I expected — not just financially, but emotionally. My confidence took a nosedive. I didn’t know what I wanted next. I’d worked with consultants before, and a few had asked if I’d ever considered consulting myself. “You’d be great at it,” they said.

I hadn’t considered it.

But when everything felt uncertain, it was the one idea that stuck.

So I opened a micro-entreprise. Just to see. Just to try. I told myself I’d give it 6 to 12 months. If I could land even one client in that time, it would be a win.

And thanks to a few generous mentors, a supportive therapist, and a lot of behind-the-scenes Googling… I did.

Not right away. Not with a perfect brand or airtight offer. But eventually.

It started to feel real in January 2025 — a full year in — when I had more than one client at once. That moment shifted everything. I thought, “This isn’t just a placeholder. This is a business. This is mine.”

What’s been harder than I thought

I assumed the hardest part would be getting clients. And in some ways, it was — the waiting, the pitching, the learning curve.

But what’s been surprisingly hard? Managing the business side: invoicing, tracking expenses, admin, wearing all the hats. And time management — juggling multiple projects, switching laptops, being clear with clients about my availability. There’s no buffer when it’s just you.

But I’ve learned to rely on systems I trust. I’ve learned to be honest with clients — and with myself.

What I’m proud of

I recently wrapped up a big migration project that went really well — the kind of project where you feel like you handed over a wrapped present with a bow on top.

Even better? One of my early clients came back to work with me again.

That quiet return was a moment of real pride. Not flashy. But meaningful.

And then there’s Lead With Intention, a mentorship offer I built for women navigating career transitions, motherhood, or freelance beginnings. It came from a place of uncertainty, but I shaped it into something purposeful. Even when I wasn’t sure. Especially then.

What success looks like now

Before, success meant hitting KPIs, launching campaigns, running faster.
Now, it means something quieter and deeper.

Am I happy?

Am I helping people?

Am I enjoying this life I’ve worked hard to design?

Success looks like time in the garden. School pickups. Field trips.

It looks like working hard, but not only working. It looks like space.

That’s not what I used to measure. But it’s what matters now.

Motherhood and self-employment

Would I have done this without being a parent? Maybe.

But being a mom pushed me toward self-employment. I wanted to be present — not just on weekends or evenings. I wanted to design my days, not beg for flexibility.

Now, I can choose projects that energize me. I can pick up my kids at school. I can say yes to a chaperone trip — and no to a meeting if I need to.

That’s not just logistics. That’s freedom.

Doubt, and what’s next

Do I still doubt myself? All the time.

But I remember what a mentor once told me: “Fake it till you make it. No one really knows what they’re doing.”

So I show up. I trust myself a little more every day. I remind myself that clarity comes through doing.

What’s next for pocket nibbles consulting?

More balance. More intention. More staying true to what works for me.

That might mean changing up offers, shifting focus, or taking breaks when needed. That’s the beauty of this path — it’s mine to shape.

A few takeaways from the first 18 months

• Give yourself time. This takes longer than it looks.
• Structure = freedom. In business and in life.
• Confidence is built, not found. Keep showing up.
• You don’t need to scale. You need to feel steady.
• Your version of success is valid — even if it’s quiet.

If you’re thinking about consulting — especially if you’re in marketing ops, or you’re a parent — I won’t say it’s easy. But I will say it’s possible.

You get to choose what this looks like.

You get to build a business that fits you, not the other way around.

And if you’re in that messy middle where you’re not sure what comes next — I see you. I’ve been there. I still am, some days.

But I’m here. And it’s working.

Photo by Walter Walraven on Unsplash