If you've ever tried building something meaningful... this story will feel familiar.

If you run a business in Mission, BC, you already know it’s not just about sales or systems. Stamina is what keeps you juggling it all — the dream, the broom, the bills — still showing up every day, hoping next month feels a little lighter.No one really talks about what it costs to keep a business alive here. The pressure doesn’t show up in spreadsheets. It’s in the quiet hours when you’re still working, long after everyone’s gone home. It’s in the moments when you tell yourself, “Just one more season,” and somehow you find the energy to do it all again or in the quiet nights when you’re wondering if the next networking event will be worth it. 

When I was running a local magazine in the City of Mission, I loved shining a spotlight on our town. The businesses, the events, the people who make Mission what it is, but one thing always bothered me was timing.Magazines take weeks to prepare, print, and deliver. By the time an issue reached people’s doors, so much had already changed. Events had passed, new opportunities had popped up, and the community was still left saying, “I wish I had known about that.”I remember wishing I could update everyone in real time with “Hey, there’s a market this weekend,” “Don’t miss the concert downtown,” “A new café just opened its doors.” But print didn’t give me that option, so that gap never left me.City of Mission deserves a way to hear about things as they’re happening and fast - not weeks later.So I’m creating something new: Inside Mission newsletter. 

Every platform is saturated with curated feeds, trending audios, polished captions, and scheduled posts. There is more content than ever before, and yet people are more disconnected, more distrustful, and more tired of “marketing” than ever before.

(For the ones who are curious, but not sure yet)

There’s a quiet kind of burnout no one talks about.It’s not the usual stuff — like being too busy or hating what you do in life. It’s the weird heaviness that comes from trying to show up online in a way that “works.”You spend time writing the perfect captions, trying to post at the right times, using the right format, and hoping the algorithm picks it up… And after all that, you’re left wondering, “Did it even land with anyone?”It starts to mess with your head. You stop creating what you want to say, and start making what you think you should say. Not because it feels good, but because it’s what’s supposed to “perform.”

No lightning bolt, no divine announcement, no clear message in the sky.

It’s easy to say “I almost quit” like it was one big dramatic day, the kind where the sky cracks open and something inside you screams, “That’s it, I’m done.” But the truth? It wasn’t just one day. It was more like a slow drip.A thousand small, quiet moments that built up over time.

There was a time I quietly wondered if anyone would ever take me seriously. Not because I didn’t believe in what I carried — I did. I also knew how the world worked. I knew how quickly people scan, scroll, and decide who’s worth their attention based on a checklist someone else created.I used to ask myself:

Not because I think I’m better. But because I know what it feels like to follow every strategy, write every caption “correctly,” and still feel completely disconnected from your own business.

"The kind of truth no one tells you—until your soul’s already in it"-Olga

You are not alone if you are trying to build something you can't quite explain yet...this post is for you. 

I didn’t wake up one day with a big business plan.

I spent hours organizing it. A certain chunk was already uploaded to the website. Twenty-four blog posts. All properly grouped, labelled, refined and aligned. And then—one refresh later—it was all gone. I do not know how my finger pressed the little red icon in the corner.