It's not Their Vision. It's Yours

 Why do we look to others for approval before moving forward with an idea, a dream, or a decision?  I think part of it is instinct. We naturally want to share what excites us. We want to tell someone about the business idea, the goal, the next step we’re considering.  But how many times do we walk away disappointed because the person we confided in couldn’t see the vision the way we do? 

How often do we stop ourselves in our tracks because someone says it’s too risky, too difficult, too saturated, too expensive, or too time-consuming?  And yet, we continue going back to others hoping for a different response.  Most of the time, those responses are not coming from a bad place. People often respond based on what THEY would be comfortable doing. What feels too risky to them. What commitment they personally wouldn’t make.  But it’s important to remember: It’s not their vision. It’s yours. 

 It’s human nature to want support. Sharing helps us feel less isolated. It makes big decisions feel a little less scary when we know someone is behind us.  There’s nothing wrong with sharing your ideas—as long as other people’s opinions don’t become the determining factor in whether or not you move forward.  Take what feels helpful. Learn from constructive feedback. But don’t let fear, doubt, or someone else’s limitations decide the direction of your life. 

I have really started to take issue with the word “awkward” lately. I’m not sure I ever gave the word much thought until I started noticing how often it’s used now.

I hear things like:
“I replied, but no one really said anything… that’s so awkward.”
“You can’t just ask someone on a date if you don’t really know them yet… that’s awkward.”
“I don’t want to be the first one to answer the question.”
“I’m not going to ask her out.”
“All of that feels awkward.”

We are drastically overthinking what is “awkward” in a world where we can:

unsend a text
edit a comment
filter a photo
use AI to fix imperfections
carefully curate what people see

Nothing is allowed to feel uncomfortable anymore.

And I think it’s creating a generation of people who are becoming afraid to take risks—even small ones.

Risks like:

asking for a phone number
inviting someone to dinner
answering first
introducing yourself
sharing an idea out loud

Big risks? Forget about it.

What if we fail the test?
What if the business is slow?
What if we shut down?
What will everyone think?

Is it true that almost anything can end up on social media now?
Absolutely.

But here’s the good news:
Most people are not nearly as focused on your failures as you think they are.

Why?

Because they have their own.

Yesterday they wore mismatched shoes to work.
Last month they struggled financially.
They also lost the bid.
Got turned down.
Got left on read.
Had their idea shot down.
Felt embarrassed.
Felt insecure.
Felt awkward.

No one is lying awake at night obsessing over your awkward moments, your failures, or your shortcomings. They are worried about their own. 

One quote has stayed with me for years whenever I’ve gone through difficult moments publicly or felt unfairly judged. It’s from Theodore Roosevelt’s speech “Citizenship in a Republic”:

“It is not the critic who counts… The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena…”

The people willing to risk awkwardness are usually the ones actually building something, trying something, becoming something.

The awkward moments are rarely the problem.

Staying small because we are afraid of them is~Sabrina

 Current statistics say roughly 50% of small businesses will not make it through their first five years.

The factors that contribute to the success or failure of a business and almost endless.

But personally?

The hardest hurdle has never been the technical side.

It’s always been the emotional side.

Small business owners are unlike any other group of people. In the beginning, there is no separation between personal life and business life.

If you aren’t working to make your business successful at your place of business, you’re at home on your laptop, at the dinner table, in bed, awake at 3 a.m. thinking through the next problem, the next bill, the next idea, the next decision.

I remember wishing I had someone to talk to in the beginning.

Someone who understood what it felt like trying to keep the lights on at the business while also keeping the lights on at home.

Someone who understood the exhausting feeling of wondering if you’re ever doing enough… no matter how hard you try.

Everyone talks about the technical aspects of surviving your first five years and beyond.

Let's be honest—the struggles do not magically end at year five.

But very few people talk about what I would argue is the hardest part:

Learning how to ride the emotional waves.

Every success.
Every failure.
Every difficult customer.
Every person who says you are the worst at what you do.
Every exhausting season.
Every setback.
Every unexpected challenge.
Every bit of politics you may find yourself navigating.
Every single sleepless night. 

And yet…

Those who have done it understand the reward.

The reward is the first-time customer than turns into a long-time customer. 

The athlete who succeeds.

The student whose confidence changed.

The family that stayed.

The moment you realize something you built created impact.

And somehow… despite all of it…you wake up and do it again.

Not because you never questioned yourself.

But because somewhere along the way, the business became more than income.

It became purpose.

It became people.

It became proof that you were capable of doing hard things.

And if I could go back and tell myself one thing in those early years, it would be this:

You are not failing because this feels hard. 

You are not failing because someone doesn't value you.

Building something meaningful was never supposed to feel easy.

Keep showing up.

Keep learning.

Keep adjusting.

And remember—
sometimes success isn’t measured by what you built.
Sometimes it’s measured by who you became while building it. ~ Sabrina