Wow! It’s been a long time, hasn’t it?

I’ve been in a DEEP reflective state lately, partly because there are times where I feel like I am on the verge of a nervous breakdown and want to burn it all to the ground while running away. When I feel like that, my most potent act of self-preservation and self-discovery is going within. For myriad reasons—some of which I will get into in this blog post, and some I will not—the past three plus years as a business owner (and, as a human, if we’re being completely honest) has been grueling. The choppy waters have churned up a lot of loss-based fear and FOMO and that’s the state I’ve been operating in for quite some time. Spoiler alert: it doesn’t feel good.

When I first started this business and started running classes waaayyyy back in 2008, everything was unequivocally heart-centered—from the marketing to the curriculum development to what I shared on social media. It was all about my WHY and HOW I came to be a business owner and WHO I wanted to serve and why WHAT we were doing was so special and unique. But, as time went on, the marketing gurus started saying that no one reads long posts and no one visits Web sites anymore and if you’re not sharing on social media you’re not getting seen because that’s where the people are and they don’t want to click over to a different corner of the internet or take time to engage because everything is FAST and instant gratification and you have 5 seconds or less to win people over. And then there had to be podcasts. And then email lists (and if you didn’t have at least 1000 people in your email list you were doomed to fail). And then it was highly curated photos and perfectly color-paletted Instagram feeds. And then paying for ads or your content wouldn’t get seen. And then Snapchat and TikTok. And then reels. And then private communities. And you need to be on ALLLLL the platforms for brand consistency and awareness. And, and, and. The marketing experts had me chasing my tail and screaming into the void and reluctantly and begrudgingly buying into the capitalist, patriarchal bullshit hook, line, and sinker. My mission is important to me (and I truly believe beneficial for the world), and I WANT to succeed. And from a financial standpoint, I NEED to succeed. So round and round and round I went. Through Covid. Through a rebuild of my business after Covid. Through a move where I tried to keep my existing business afloat long-distance. And then through a business move where I rerooted to a community where no one knew me and was none the wiser about this beautiful, meaningful, heart-centered thing I launched 15 years prior.

Somewhere along the line, gradually and not all at once, I stopped sharing my most deeply vulnerable and authentic content because not only was I told that people weren’t interested, but I had also taken my fair share of abuse online. It seemed as though being perfectly imperfect and looking though a lens of hope, unity, and love was triggering for many. Trying to defend myself was exhausting (I removed over 1,000 Facebook friends in the process and made my Instagram account private). I was sick of being a metaphorical punching bag for people who had nothing better to do than start fights on the internet, so I slowly withdrew from being the full expression of myself. Just the facts, m’aam. Keep it light and fluffy, Don’t ruffle any feathers. Don’t encourage people to dig too deeply. Don’t speak truth to bullshit. And then I stopped writing. Slowly, but surely, I was siphoning off pieces of myself. For what?! And once I stopped writing and sharing and BEing (fully myself), it was hard to start up again. Even when I wanted to. Even when it was necessary.

By the time I moved to Rhode Island and then moved my business to Rhode Island, I had disconnected from my foundational, heart-centered way of operating. I had morphed and changed and chameleoned to appease the almighty algorithm. Get views. Grab attention. Stand out. Make reels. Blah blah blah. The problem is…I don’t know how to perform for an algorithm. Nor do I want to. I don’t know how to move at the pace that social media and the influencers want me to move at. Nor do I want to. And, the time it takes me to try to film a fucking reel instead of snapping a few pictures is time spent away from my art, my calling, and my unique way of existing in the world. I don’t really want to be doing that either. And, quite frankly, I’m exhausted and soooo ovvvveeeerrrrr it all. As such, I’ve been reflecting. If you happened upon my social media post recently where I admitted to standing in the middle of my studio prior to a class and having thoughts of shutting it all down, what I have really been feeling is a long overdue visceral reaction to processes and practices that aren’t me. Things that pull me out of alignment. Things that remove me from my uniquely authentic way of living. loving, doing business, and sharing pieces of my heart. Because the truth of the matter is, my business isn’t a “grab their attention in 5 seconds” kind of business (nor do I want it to be). And nothing I do from a marketing perspective will make it so.

Back when I started, and for years and years after that, people made their way to the studio over and over again not because I am the most skilled artist in New England or because I have the flashiest or most lavish studio space, but because I EFFORTLESSLY MADE PEOPLE OF ALL AGES FEEL SEEN, HEARD, AND VALUED WHILE THEY WERE THERE. I still do those things and create magic within the studio walls, but I stopped talking about it publicly and online. Stopped sharing who I was, how I struggled, and what mattered to me. Stopped helping people feel less alone, unless they were seated in front of me. Stopped talking about what connects us and why that matters. Vulnerability was my super power and I stopped being vulnerable because the “experts” said that people don’t give a shit about that…they want funny and controversial and outlandish and they want to be SOLD something. And you know what? The experts aren’t right about everything and I don’t want to operate from that space anymore! It’s made me tired. And anxious. And out of whack. And it has never really felt good in my bones.

I own my part in what I allowed to transpire. I stopped listening to my gut. I tried to be someone else for reasons that didn’t align with my soul’s work and it backfired in myriad ways, none the least of which has been my mental and emotional health. As of today, I’m reclaiming my vulnerability and I am going to start sharing it with the world again. I want people to know me, what I stand for, how I view life’s lens, and why what I do matters. And I am going to build my communities in the studio and on this Web site and over on Patreon at a pace and in a manner that is in alignment with who I am and what matters to me. The people who are meant to be there and be touched by what I have to offer will show up when the time is right for them. Because, one of the things I have learned over and over again is that online friends and followers are this land of make-believe. It’s the people who show up, who have a desire to consistently and authentically connect, and who allow themselves to be seen knee-to-knee that really matter. I have thousands of friends and followers on my social media corners of the internet.  And from those thousands, I have dozens who have consistently shown up. It’s time for me to refocus my energy and efforts on the dozens and stop worrying about the thousands. Most of those people probably don’t even see my content because social media is a game and the powers that be have cannibalized all that is good and pure and true. I’m done letting myself be eaten from the inside out.

Moving forward, I won’t necessarily be creating a new way of doing things, I’ll simply be returning to my roots. To my unique, feel-good way of seeing and being seen. To doing things according to my timeline and in MY voice. That was my sweet spot. I’m reclaiming it from this moment forward. I have so, so much to share with you and I hope you’ll join me.

This probably isn’t the last time you’ll see this topic come up in my posts. It’s deep and it’s woven its tentacles around multiple aspects of my life. I’m not quite done unpacking all of this.
In the spirit of (re)learning, growing, and course-correcting,
Jenn