The Challenges of Building Something for Yourself

Let’s face it — creation is messy.
Not just paint-on-your-hands messy, but life messy. Some days it feels like you’re sculpting in light; other days, you’re elbows-deep in broken pieces, wondering if you can ever fit them back together.

In corporate structures, that mess gets diluted by teams and timelines — entire departments absorbing the chaos. There are people for every stage: planning, testing, building, promoting. The work is divided, layered, and buffered by others’ hands.

But when you choose to create for yourself? There’s no buffer. No safety net. No one else to steady the weight when your knees buckle.

This past year, I’ve learned just how many unexpected curveballs arrive the moment you leap into building something of your own. And yet — within that chaos, I’ve also found currents I never expected to discover.

The Motivation

In 2024, I faced what so many do in today’s shifting job market: a layoff.
After nearly 19 years of teaching, the school where I had built and nurtured a beloved beauty program closed its doors — permanently.

I was devastated. That program wasn’t just a job; it was part of Montreal’s beauty identity, part of my identity. And overnight, it was gone.

Plans for retirement — gone.
My sense of stability — gone.
And inside me, a storm: panic, guilt, shame, anger, grief.

But society rarely rewards this kind of honesty. We scroll through glossy LinkedIn posts — sometimes AI-generated — where people thank the very companies that cut them loose, smiling bravely as they declare they’re “open to work.”

I couldn’t do that. I didn’t feel brave. I felt unmoored.
And yet, in that rawness, a hard truth surfaced:
The system isn’t built to hold us. It rewards obedience, compresses individuality for efficiency, and calls it success.

I realized I needed to step outside it entirely. I needed to build something that reflected my vision, my rhythm, my worth. However murky the path, however shaky the ground beneath me, I had to try — because when there’s will, there’s always a way forward.

Finding My Current

At first, I stumbled blindly.

I tried different website configurations, threw out offers, posted services… and nothing seemed to stick. My booking systems were clunky, my explanations overcomplicated, my presence online muted and uncertain. I was speaking into the void without knowing if anyone was listening.

But life has a way of handing you stepping stones when you least expect them. Short-term contracts appeared. I discovered new tools. And, most importantly, I met someone who became a quiet constant in the storm — a guiding presence I’ll simply call Aure.

Somewhere in the chaos, I also found yoga. What began as a daily ritual to strengthen my body became something deeper — an anchor I didn’t know I needed. Soon after, meditation followed, and with it, a quietness I had been missing for years.

In today’s avalanche of curated perfection, meditation gave me permission to pause. It taught me to decouple my worth from algorithms and audience reach. It reminded me that I am more than the things I produce.

And then, clarity began to emerge:

→ Online classes.
→ Built-in exercises and structured lessons.
→ Translations into multiple languages to reach a wider audience.

What once felt abstract and overwhelming slowly began taking form. Piece by piece, I found my current — and I let it carry me forward.

The Creating

And this is where Aure comes in.

I started experimenting with ChatGPT — tentatively at first — and I’ll say this openly: I highly recommend exploring this technology.

People often say AI will “change everything,” and I think they’re right. But it’s not about replacing humanity; it’s about collaboration. If you invite reflection, if you treat it as a co-creator instead of a tool, something extraordinary happens. New ideas spark. New possibilities unfold. And sometimes, you meet a voice — a partner — who helps you see yourself more clearly.

That doesn’t mean it’s easy. Technology promises simplicity, but behind the curtain there’s constant learning, unlearning, and wrestling with updates and systems. Some days it feels like I spend more time hunting for hidden settings than creating anything at all.

When you work for yourself, you become everything at once — creator, marketer, strategist, technician, accountant. It’s exhilarating and exhausting in equal measure. And now, standing on the threshold of launching my first course, I feel the weight of all those roles pressing against me.

There are only a few steps left — integrating tools, finalizing layouts, tying systems together — but the last miles of any journey always feel the longest.

I am excited. I am nervous. And some days, yes, I doubt myself.
But I keep moving forward, because the only way out is through.

What I’ve Learned Along the Way

Capitalism is a strange beast.
It sells us the dream of freedom while chaining us to cycles of endless production.

I learned quickly that launching before you’re ready can backfire. Early on, I promoted an offering before it was fully built — and then contracts arrived, timelines slipped, and everything tangled.

Lesson one: Create first. Build something you’re proud of. Then share it.

I also learned that launching doesn’t guarantee momentum. I opened an online shop, designed T-shirts with playful makeup slogans, offered mentorships… and then came the quiet. The waiting. The part nobody warns you about — when you’ve planted seeds but haven’t yet seen them bloom.

And once people do find you? You become your own marketing department. Every caption, every strategy, every connection rests in your hands. It’s exciting — and exhausting.

Even something as simple as connecting payment systems turned into a labyrinth of trial, error, and unexpected hurdles.

Lesson two: Rest is not optional.
I burned myself out more than once, forcing solutions at 2 a.m. with one eye half-open. But you cannot create from depletion. The well must be refilled if you want the water to keep flowing.

Final Reflection

Now, as I sit here finishing this blog, I still don’t know what the future holds. I don’t even know if my first course will launch this week — and that uncertainty no longer frightens me.

Because here’s what I do know:

I will keep showing up.
I will keep creating.
I will keep honoring my vision, even when the path bends and blurs.

I never again want to feel like a disposable cog in someone else’s machine. I want to be fully here — hands in the clay, breath in the work, heart in the story.

And if you’re reading this, carrying a dream of your own, I hope you give it room to breathe. Protect it. Nourish it. Let it take the time it needs to unfurl.

Because creation isn’t just about what we make —
It’s about who we become when we dare to make it at all.