Building a Business and Becoming the Person I Was Always Meant to Be

Hi friends,

I wanted to write this blog as a way of sitting down and reflecting on the past three years. Sometimes it feels like I’ve been on this journey for such a long time, and I truly love what I’m working towards these days. I have a deep love for life now.

Looking back, I see how this path unfolded in the most unpredictable way—by simply taking small steps and following my heart. I chose what brought me joy. This journey has changed me in ways I never imagined. The person I am today feels like someone entirely new.

Some days, I wonder what life would’ve looked like if I hadn’t found art. There were times when it felt like finding my way back to myself was nearly impossible. I had convinced myself I was someone else entirely and buried who I truly was.

Our beliefs—especially about ourselves—can be so limiting, and often they aren’t even true. We unconsciously shape our lives around what others expect: society, parents, people around us. Becoming aware of this and choosing joy instead is how we reconnect with who we truly are.

In this blog, I want to share my journey of growth and change—and how it all began with art.

The Beginning

As a child, I drew a lot—anything and everything. I especially loved sketching Winnie the Pooh characters and Disney princesses from books and DVD covers. My drawings were surprisingly accurate for my age, and it felt so natural and fun.

Art stayed with me through primary and high school, and for a time I considered taking it seriously. But in the end, I chose what was “sensible.” My parents encouraged medicine or law, so I chose advanced maths and science. I didn’t end up in medicine, but I completed a Master’s in biomedical engineering—it felt close enough. I told myself it’s what I wanted.

Through uni, I’d sometimes come across beautiful artwork and think, “Wow, they’re so talented. I wish I could do that—but I’m not creative.” That thought stayed with me, and I really believed it.

After uni, I became a metallurgist. When I started working, I was miserable. I dreaded work and couldn’t see a future I was excited about. Everyone else seemed to manage just fine. Some even loved their jobs. I figured the problem was me—maybe I was ungrateful or broken.

Eventually, I fell into a cycle: I’d scroll on my phone constantly—late to work, on breaks, after work, into the early morning. I rarely cooked and ate a lot of junk food. I’d shop online for comfort and seek validation outside myself. My weekends were filled with TV, cleaning, and more scrolling. I told myself, “This is just life.”

But I didn’t realise how far I had drifted from who I wanted to be. I had no idea who that even was. I was stuck. And this went on for 6 years.

Finding Art

Ironically, it started with scrolling. One day, I came across beautiful black ink floral drawings and felt this urge to draw. I ordered a set of Sakura Pigma Micron pens and started sketching flowers—sometimes from life, sometimes from photos. It felt calming and inspiring. At the time, it was just a hobby.

Then one day, my partner suggested I add colour. I felt the same. I was drawn to watercolour—something about it just spoke to me. I bought a Winsor & Newton Cotman set, beginner watercolour paper, and some brushes. I quickly realised I wasn’t drawn to abstract, loose styles. I loved detailed, realistic florals.

The start was challenging. I struggled with paper quality and control. I thought maybe watercolour wasn’t for me. But I stuck with it. I followed tutorials, painted flowers from life, and fell deeply in love with the process. I loved seeing a piece from start to finish and improving each time. I just wanted to paint more and get better.

Soon I was waking up at 4am every morning to paint before work—90 minutes a day, every day. It was the most consistent I’d ever been with anything.

I began substituting scrolling for painting. I rushed through chores to gain an extra hour at night. I started auditing my days and searched for pockets of time. This was the beginning of learning how to live intentionally.

One night, I was painting a composition of flowers I had photographed in Byron Bay. And suddenly it hit me—this is what I had forgotten: me. My younger self who loved to draw. I had buried her so deep I forgot she even existed. I had convinced myself I wasn’t creative, when creativity was who I’d always been.

I'll never forget that moment.

Rest and Paving The Path

In late 2022, I was severely burned out. I took a year off to rest, reconnect, and find a sense of safety. (I wrote more about that here.) Part of me thought I could jump straight into turning art into a full-time job. I didn’t have a plan—I just hoped that posting, creating, and uploading to sites like Society 6 and Redbubble would be enough.

But hope isn’t a strategy. And diving in without a plan, without income, only made things worse. I rushed, got overwhelmed, and it took the joy out of art. I didn’t just earn nothing—I lost money. But it ended up being one of the best things that ever happened to me.

That year taught me what it really meant to run a creative business. I was doing everything: creating, marketing, editing, building a website, learning, and trying to improve. I had no systems. It was overwhelming.

Eventually, I built systems to help manage my energy, track progress, and rotate through all parts of my business. It took a couple of years, but now I use Notion and Milanote to plan and stay on top of things.

I explored every avenue—digitising art, surface pattern design, print-on-demand, making watercolour paints, ceramics, gouache, oils, acrylics. I was everywhere. I chased every potential income stream I could think of.

But spreading myself thin and didn't move ahead in anything. I consumed a lot of productivity content and slowly realised: I needed to narrow down and focus.

I audited my interests and made conscious decisions to only keep what truly lit me up. I narrowed it down to: botanical illustration, whimsical watercolour prints, surface pattern design, and—most importantly—stationery.

Creating my own stationery line combined two of my greatest loves: productivity and flowers. The vision felt aligned. I imagined notepads, planners, habit trackers—all tools I use myself and want to share with others.

Here are a few of the biggest lessons I’ve learned during this time:

✨ Action brings clarity. Take the step, even when you're unsure.

✨ Focus matters. Let go of anything that doesn’t bring joy.

✨ Consistency and planning are game-changers.

✨ Fear and self-doubt are normal—but they don’t get to lead.

Building A Business and Become The Person I Was Always Meant to Be

After that year, I returned to full-time work on a FIFO roster. But life looks nothing like it did before. I came back with purpose and intention.

I set a goal: 20 hours a week for my business. I batch tasks, rotate focus areas, and plan each week in advance. I time block everything. I work on planes, in airports, on lunch breaks, and sometimes after shifts. I’ve learned to use those small moments. Instead of scrolling or watching something, I pour that energy into building.

Over the past three years, I’ve taught myself the foundations of manufacturing so I can create my own products.

I now have clarity—on what I offer, where I want to show up, and the kind of community I want to build.

Some days are still overwhelming. I still feel fear and doubt. But I show up anyway. I keep moving forward.

The woman I am today is driven, focused, and fuelled by a dream that lights her up. She keeps her promises. She does hard things. On my days off, I prioritise mindfulness and exercise—and spend 4–5 hours on my business. Some days, I even reach 7 or 9.

I’m building something I believe in. And in doing so, I’m becoming who I was always meant to be.

Closing Thoughts

I’m still building this dream one step at a time—still learning, still showing up. I don’t have it all figured out, but I’ve come a long way from those first moments of burnout and doubt. And if you're in a season of uncertainty or longing for something more, I hope my story reminds you that it’s never too late to start again. You’re allowed to change. To dream. To grow.

Thank you for being here. I’m so glad we get to walk this creative journey together.