What do you do when your passion project has to take a back seat to “the real world”?
That’s what we’ve been facing here at Spinsters Row.
For months now, we’ve been working with a skeleton crew. Each of us has a day job that’s been busy, hectic, mentally draining, or some combination of all three. In some cases, we’ve been dealing with other outside influences as well. And every time we think things might finally be calming down, reality steps back in and smacks us in the face.
Even this blog, which I originally started as a bit of a cathartic release, took a back seat this week to a job that, while I enjoy it, was consuming pretty much all of my available brain power.
And that’s part of the problem, isn’t it? When you’ve spent your day giving everything you’ve got to the things you have to do, how much do you have left for the things you want to do?
Tired at a Cellular Level
Last week, during what I affectionately call our “board meeting,” three of the four active members of Spinsters Row had a very frank discussion about where we are and where we go from here.
As we got on the call, one of the first things anyone said, other than hello, was Angie announcing, “I’m tired at a cellular level.” And man, did that speak to me.
I giggled a little internally, because I thought it was a fun way of putting it, but it spoke volumes that no one disagreed. The funny thing is, I don’t think any of us showed up to the meeting planning to have this conversation. But somehow, organically, we’d all reached the same conclusion. Something had to give.
Spinsters Row started as something we wanted to build together. A place to connect with like-minded women, to share ideas, creativity, and maybe a little irreverence. And that part hasn’t changed. I still love the idea of what we’re building, but loving something doesn’t magically create more hours in the day.
And when you can’t give something you love the attention you think it deserves, the guilt starts creeping in.
For me, it’s the feeling that I’m letting down my fellow Spinsters, Angie, Teresa, and Sue. That I should be doing more, contributing more, finding some reserve of energy that apparently everyone else knows how to access.
For Angie it’s been having nightmares about “bringing something into the world, but then not feeding it.”
That’s a pretty apt description of how it feels sometimes. We’ve created this thing together. We’ve put time, energy, money, and pieces of ourselves into it. And now we’re struggling to give it the attention it needs.
So. What Do You Do?
In our case, we had a frank discussion. Where do we go from here?
None of us want to give up, but we also don’t have the time or energy to keep doing everything we’ve been trying to do.
We talked options.
Do we “bank the fire,” so to speak? Let things lie dormant until we have more time, more energy, more mental bandwidth? But honestly, how long do you wait for life to calm down? Every time we think we’re approaching that magical stretch of time when everything will be manageable, something else happens.
Do we give up completely?
Never say die! But there’s a difference between refusing to give up and refusing to recognize when something isn’t working.
And maybe that’s the part we needed to acknowledge.
Giving Ourselves Some Grace
Ultimately, where we landed was to scale back, give ourselves some grace, and regroup.
There was relief in that decision. Relief that no one was angry or disappointed that we needed to step back. Relief that we could admit we were exhausted without anyone interpreting that as a lack of commitment.
And perhaps most importantly, relief that no one was ready to walk away.
There was a little sadness mixed in, too. It’s bittersweet to acknowledge that the grand plans we had might need to become smaller plans, at least for now.
We’re also not finished having these conversations. Teresa’s day job has been so bonkers that she hasn’t been able to join us for months, and we want to make sure she’s part of figuring out what comes next.
But for now, we’re beginning to rethink what Spinsters Row looks like.
Less trying to be everything to everyone. More focusing on the things that make Spinsters Row Spinsters Row. What do we want to do? What do we want to be known for? What parts of this project bring us joy, and which parts have simply become obligations?
Somewhere along the way, I think we might have gotten a little caught up in the business of running a business. Products, social media, schedules, expenses, and the never-ending list of things we should be doing. All necessary to some degree, but not necessarily the reasons we started Spinsters Row in the first place.
We wanted to create something. To connect with like-minded women, share ideas, and build a community. And while the business side helps support that vision, it shouldn’t consume so much of our energy that we lose sight of why we’re doing it.
Maybe part of scaling back isn’t just about doing less. Maybe it’s about making more room for the parts we actually love.
We don’t have all the answers yet.
The Fire Isn't Out
I keep coming back to the idea of banking the fire. You didn’t put it out. You protected the embers so there’s still something there when you’re ready to build it back up.
Maybe that’s what we’re doing. Or maybe we’re just learning that we don’t need a roaring bonfire all the time. A smaller, steadier fire can still provide warmth.
I don’t think there’s anything wrong with having big ambitions. But I also don’t want the pursuit of those ambitions to destroy the very things that made us want to start this in the first place: creativity, friendship, connection, and the joy of building something together.
So, for now, we’re scaling back, whatever that looks like. We’re regrouping. We’re having some difficult conversations and trying to figure out what comes next.
We’re tired. We’re a little frustrated. And we’re still figuring things out.
But we’re not done.
The fire isn’t out. We’re just tired.
