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Overcoming Challenges: Lessons from Accidentally Starting a Business

I didn’t set out to be an entrepreneur. I didn’t have a grand business plan, a pitch deck, or a folder labeled “Startup Dreams.” I started my business because self-employment turned out to be the work structure that best fit my lifestyle, my energy levels, and my career goals. And while that decision may have been practical, the path that followed was anything but predictable.


Figuring Out My Offering


At the beginning, I only knew one thing for sure: I wanted to build something around writing. But what exactly? I had no idea. And more importantly, I didn’t yet know what people needed or what kind of writing I wanted to spend the majority of my days doing. So I iterated. Slowly. Sometimes clumsily. But always intentionally.


That meant saying yes to things I wasn’t sure I’d enjoy—just to see. If I knew I could meet the client’s expectations (or at least figure out how to), I gave it a go. Sometimes I surprised myself and found new strengths. Sometimes I grimaced through the project and swore never to do it again. But every experience was a data point. Over time, those yeses and noes added up to a business model that fit me better. Not perfectly, but meaningfully. I didn’t just build a business—I crafted one.


The Money Hurdle: Learning to Charge Fairly


Like a lot of new business owners, I struggled with pricing. I worried that if I asked for too much, I’d scare people away. I was afraid that I hadn’t “earned” the right to charge more. And so, for a long time, I undercharged.


One of the most practical lessons I ever learned came from a business coach who encouraged me to send three-tiered proposals:

  1. A basic, limited-scope option at the lowest price.

  2. A mid-tier option that felt realistic and likely to be chosen.

  3. A “Ferrari” option—where I offered premium service at a price that would make the effort worth it.


Not only did this help clients see the value of investing more, it also helped me understand what my time and expertise were truly worth.


Another game-changer: never quoting prices on the spot. I used to low-ball when caught off guard, but now I always say, “Let me look over the details and get back to you with a proposal.” That buffer gives me time to be thoughtful—and fair.


It’s not about squeezing every cent out of a client. It’s about mutual respect. Ironically, I’ve learned that when you don’t charge enough, people sometimes assume you're not as qualified. Fair pricing helps everyone win.


Working with Intention: Values Over Vibes


I also discovered that, for me, it’s not just about what I do—it’s about who I do it with. I have to care about the mission of the clients I’m working with to stay motivated. That means I’ve turned down projects where the ethics didn’t align, or the reputations felt toxic, or the work just didn’t sit right in my gut.


My time and energy are precious to me. I don’t want to spend them supporting something that makes me lose sleep at night. I know not every business is perfect, but I need to at least align with the direction someone is heading.


A Few More Lessons I Picked Up Along the Way


  • Systems are sanity-saving. I have always loved project management tools but I never really put them into use until I started drowning in email threads and scope creep. Systems let me do the creative work instead of managing chaos. My primary tool for this is Notion.

  • Boundaries make better work. Clear timelines, clear expectations, and sometimes, the word no—these are what make good relationships sustainable.

  • You don’t have to be “legit” before you start. Most of us feel like we need to be perfectly polished before we launch something. But truthfully? You learn by doing. The only way to get better is to start, even if you’re not 100% sure what you’re doing.

  • Celebrate the small wins. There’s no boss to pat you on the back when you hit a milestone or pull off a tough project. So celebrate it yourself. Acknowledge your growth.


Starting a business accidentally doesn’t mean you’re unqualified—it means you were adaptable. It means you saw a gap and filled it with your skills, even if you didn’t have all the answers at first. I’ve come to realize that’s not a flaw. It’s a feature. And it’s a path more people are walking than we might think.


So if you’re also figuring it out as you go, welcome. You’re not behind. You’re building something—one choice, one challenge, one lesson at a time.

 
 
 

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