A friend recently asked me:
“How do you do everything you do — without burning out?”
And the answer is very simple.
I don’t.
I don’t do everything. I don’t try to. And I no longer measure success by how exhausted I am.
Because there was a time I did — and it nearly broke me.
Now, my life leads.
My business follows.
And anything that tries to reverse that gets shown the door — with a polite smile and possibly a biscuit.
Real life first. Always.
Here’s what my world really looks like.
Kids who need lifts, hugs, reassurance, snacks, supervision, guidance, laughter.
Horses who need feeding, checking, rugging, affection — and occasionally crack open a tin of beer for Christmas like a middle-aged Welsh uncle.
A dad I care about deeply.
A house that seems to reproduce laundry like it’s running a side hustle.
And somehow — inside all of this — there’s a business that works, grows, creates impact and pays for feed, dance lessons and life.
But here’s the key:
It runs in around 10 hours a week.
Not because I’m mystical. Not because I’m hyper-productive. Not because I wake at 4am chanting affirmations into a vision board.
But because my systems do the heavy lifting.
The sacred boundary
I made a promise to myself:
My business does not get unlimited access to me.
It gets clear working windows, clean structure and strong foundations. And then it goes back in its box so I can get on with being a human.
Which means AI isn’t a gimmick in my world.
It’s a supportive colleague.
It repurposes video. It drafts captions. It pulls quotes. It writes summaries. It creates workflows. It organises ideas.
So I don’t have to manually produce content from scratch every time inspiration strikes (which, realistically, is somewhere between “tea refill” and “where are your shoes?”)
The feminine truth nobody tells you
Our nervous systems were not designed for constant output, constant stimulation and constant availability.
And yet so much of online business preaches:
More. Faster. Louder. Again. Again. Again.
But I don’t want “again.”
I want quiet mornings, funny car-ride conversations, messy pony kisses, soft emotional space, time to think, time to feel — and work that fits inside that, not over it.
So I built it that way.
The structure that keeps me sane
Every week looks roughly like this:
I record one video. I let AI generate assets. I approve and polish lightly. I schedule. And then I close the laptop.
That’s it.
No performance.
No forced glittery energy.
No pretending my house is organised.
Just honest teaching — wrapped in dry humour — and delivered by a woman who probably has a hay-covered coat.
And because the system repeats, I don’t waste energy wondering what to do.
My week already knows.
The unexpected gift of boundaries
Here’s the funny thing.
The clearer my boundaries became, the better my work got.
Because I stopped resenting the business, overgiving, overthinking and chasing urgency. And I started thinking clearly, being present, creating intentionally and trusting myself.
Turns out, calm nervous systems make excellent entrepreneurs.
Who knew.
Let’s talk about worth
Women are conditioned to believe:
Busy = valuable
Self-sacrificing = good
Tired = impressive
But I’m here, gently, to say:
No.
You are valuable because you exist.
Your hours do not determine your worth.
And a business that demands constant sacrifice isn’t aspirational.
It’s just loud.
AI as a kindness
When I talk about AI, I’m not talking about replacing humans.
I’m talking about replacing strain.
Replacing the part where you stare at a blank screen at midnight, trying to sound inspiring while crying into pasta.
AI says:
“Let me handle the admin.
You bring the heart.”
And together, that’s enough.
Final thought
If you take one thing away from this:
Please know you are allowed to build gently.
You are allowed to work 10 hours, love your life, laugh at the chaos, forget where your charger is — and still be wildly successful.
Because success isn’t louder.
It’s lighter.
And if my horse can enjoy a Christmas beer,
I can certainly enjoy a business that doesn’t try to own me.
Cheers to that 🥂
(mine’s a tea)