Small Business Reality: Lessons From a Year That Broke & Built Me
If you’re reading this, you’ve made it to 2026, I’m so glad you’re here, Bestie.
Running a small business is not for the faint of heart, even when it’s something you love with every inch of your soul. People see the candles, the markets, the cute pop-up tables, the behind-the-scenes videos, and the goofy reels with my dog… but there’s a whole world that lives under the surface.
When I’m not pouring candles, I’m just another human. I’m typically working my full-time job, volunteering, working out, trying to have a social life, or whatever other chaos I’ve signed myself up for. When I am working though, I’m also:
• making content
• updating the website
• answering emails
• creating newsletters
• sitting at markets for hours
• and doing a bunch of things, not including the ones I’m probably forgetting
There’s a lot of joy in this life, but there’s also a lot of wax on the floor at 1 a.m., a lot of “what am I even doing?” moments. There’s definitely a whole lot of growth that only seems to come after life smacks you around a little. In 2023, when I moved from Florida to California, life definitely did some smacking.
It did however also gave me clarity. It gave me my community, memories, experiences, and beautifully amazing loyal customers. And it taught me more in one year than seven years of business ever did.
So… let’s get real.
The Truths I Learned the Hard Way
Let me be the first to say that I’m not the kind of person who handles disappointment well. I take things to heart VERY deeply and I’m constantly trying to understand the pain points so I can grow from them. And honestly (in my opinion), That’s made me a stronger business owner. These are the things we don’t see in Instagram stories or Facebook photos, and definitely not the things we mention willingly over dinner with friends or family. As a business owner, it’s hard to remember I am human and that sometimes my personal defeats will blend into my business (or vice-versa). I want to normalize the small business ownership life, and show some of the hard times, too. Here are a few of the things that kept me up at night, either journaling or staring at the ceiling till 4am with tears in my eyes and a knot in my throat wondering if I can keep pushing:
Not everyone is going to share your dream — and that’s okay.
Your friends, your family, the people who love you the most… they don’t have the same exact dream as you. Even if they support you, they don’t feel the dream in their bones the way you do. Sometimes that leads to unsolicited advice, odd comments, or the infamous discounts or freebie requests. Sometimes, they see being on your phone or sitting in your room as being lazy or unsocial, not realizing the not-so-small details or running a small business. Sometimes, you’ll see your friends and family comment, share, and like a celebrity’s post (who probably doesn’t know they exist) and completely swipe past your content, even if it’s relatable (double-burn if they mention how cool your post was to you, but didn’t engage). There’s also times where I have loved ones who are completely oblivious to what I do. “How’s your little business going?” is still something I hear after 7 years. I’ve also had people assume I’m either dust-in-pockets poor or a 6-figure Boss Babe (which I’d love to be, one day!). It’s interesting when I have someone watching me work or they come to help at an event and they realize how hard it can be at times. They don’t even realize that I typically do everything alone, too!
With that in mind: They’ll offer to help or volunteer, but then you find out that help that wasn’t very helpful after all. Friends have said “sorry” more times than I can count to damaged products, equipment, or even just disorganized chaos. This year, I’ve learned to set gentle boundaries. I’ve learned to ask for feedback after I explain my why. I’ve learned that people truly mean well, even if they don’t always deliver their skills well. And honestly? They aren’t business owners, and some may never be and will understand the work it takes. Sometimes, their ideas surprise me in the best way, like the time my friends reorganized my wax melts and doubled my tabletop shelf space (Shoutout to you, Nick + Allison!). A win is a win.
Not every market is your market
When I lived in Florida, I had my rhythm. Same faces, same markets, familiar routines. The family-owned cafe knew my order (and knew that I used to drive 2 hours to get to my favorite market and sell to my favorite regular customers), and always had it ready for my former partner and I. I never needed to look at the vendor map because I was in the same spot and my mental-GPS because I was so familiar with my hometown (Siri Maps, who?). I had the same customers religiously, and I would even pack their orders and have them ready prior to arrival (Emma in Florida, I miss you pretty lady!)
California humbled me (In the best way, but still). I wasn’t only just the new girl, but I was the new girl with the small business, and the small business that was starting over. I restarted my entire business when I came over here. Not a single jar or ounce of wax to my name. When re-starting everything, It was nice to know what products were best to buy versus having to relearn again. Some manufacturers were even closet to me now, and I was able to even drive to some to get my products in a rush if need be. Bonus points because I was also somewhat able to afford the better quality supplies I wouldn’t have normally gotten when I first started out otherwise, but it wasn’t just buying new supplies and rebuilding inventory.
I quickly learned:
Demographics matter
Scents hit differently here in California
You have to research and find markets yourself
Vendor fees are wild (but starting to learn that’s everywhere)
And not every market is the place to sell candles. I was grateful in Florida to be invited to most of my booked pop-ups or events, never having to worry about vetting them or if I’d be scammed. Nowadays, I have to be a customer at a market before I go, ask my Bizz Besties their opinions, or learn the hard way. I’ve bombed at thrift-style markets, and I’ve thrived at artisan pop-ups. I’ve also learned how to choose the spaces that feel aligned with my business and the community I want to serve. (Bizz Besties, stay tuned for a blog post on Market Finding soon!). It’s also super important to consider that if you focus on making profit at every event, you will be highly disappointed (I’ll also make another blog post about goals for markets soon!).
Because trying to do every market = burnout, and that doesn’t smell good on anyone. For me, it was bed-rot and doomscrolling, barely making coherent sentences unless they were in my customer service voice, and failing to do any personal tasks.
I know now the importance of not having to kill myself over my business. I plan on having more intentional decisions in 2026 to keep me in my soft-girl era for a bit longer, even if I’m striving to be a CEO big-baller.
Slow days don’t mean you’re failing.
Some days are “sold out by noon”. Some days are “I made one sale and it was to the booth neighbor next to me out of pity”, or sometimes it’s a day of barters and not a penny to your name. Even when you pick the best markets, sometimes they flop (yes, even when the coordinators do their parts, too). I’m so blessed to have days where slow markets aren’t as much of a concern for me anymore, especially vetting my markets. Mind you, this isn’t a brag- it was years of working hard to be able to get to a point where I can say that. Even then, I still am not famous or rich enough to live 100% off Many Mumbling Mice without looking at the bank account from time to time. Regardless, all of these days teach me something.
On the slow market days that some people complain about. I pivot, I make content, refresh my table layout, stamp bags, or just talk to people. While I’d love to have every task done, I’ve learned to leave some things to do at markets. It also helps those shy customers out when they see me working (in comparison to being on my phone or staring at them shopping the whole time). Some of my best content comes from markets- I blame it on the good vibes, the outdoor lighting, and having a full face of confidence and makeup on, but I think it’s because I also have familiarity when I film these areas. There have been markets where I didn’t sell as much in-person, but when I leave the event and get home, I see orders from familiar faces at the event or from my Instagram followers who saw a video in their town.
I have to constantly remind myself that the good markets feel good because the slow ones exist, too. Some of my coolest customers have come from slower markets, and they say it’s because I’ve had time to chat with them at the markets to get to know them. I can’t wait to see what else I learn at events and markets this new year.
When Life Punched Back Harder Than Expected
I am an extension, if not the heart and soul, of Many Mumbling Mice. This year tested me in ways I didn’t expect. I badly injured my knee at my full-time job and was out of work for nearly 7 months. Physically, mentally, and financially, I was drained. Candles don’t pour themselves, and I had to pay people I couldn’t afford to help with markets.
I barely left home. I gained weight. Every part of my personal life bled into my business. My customer’s orders were taking 1.5 weeks instead of the occasional 1 week to ship out, and even my friends and family didn’t understand the severity of my injury. It probably didn’t help that I was stubborn and still try to over-exert myself (but that’s beside the point). I cried myself to sleep a lot, and doubled-down on therapy sessions (Ruth, thank you, I appreciate all that you do for me, truly ❤️).
But then I learned to ask for help. I learned that my worth isn’t measured by how many jars I can wick and pour in a day. I’m proud of myself for getting back up.. literally. I’m usually one to stay “stuck” in a mindset for a while, so to snap back like this was quite a win in itself. It took many days of therapy, PT, stupid knee-braces and wraps, and painful moments. The biggest win for this though was being able to survive on my small business income while being out of work from my 9-5, and that gave me hope I could go back to full-time again soon. You can replay the nostalgia of that small business win here on my Instagram.
The Camp GrooveTown Disaster
Whew. This one still stings. I still get sick to my stomach and wonder what I could’ve done differently. Camp Groovetown 2025 was an all adult, all-inclusive Summer Camp that was supposed to be an amazing group of 12 adults. Until it wasn’t.
In one single summer:
• $4,000 was stolen from my business card
• A major brand dropped out of a contract, I had to get legal
• The AirBnB host ghosted me- I had to find a new “campsite” last-second
• Camp was essentially cancelled
• Thousands in refunds went out, and tons of supplies went to donation
I felt like a complete failure. It was my first Summer Camp, people must have thought I was so stupid for this. I cried — so much — and I held onto embarrassment longer than I should have. I felt like I let people down. I felt like I wasn’t cut out for this. Not just the events, but the whole business. Even with support, I felt alone.
But guess what? I survived. and I’m still here, making things with love and trying again.I’ll eventually open up more about this in 2026, and have already secured plans for Camp GrooveTown 2026, which is 100% on and even bigger and better than what would have been.
Finding Beauty in the Chaos
While 2025 shook every part of me, I still perservere and make it out alive. There’s one thing I keep coming back to and that keeps me grounded even on the ugliest days:
There is always something beautiful hiding in the mess.
A new lesson. A new boundary. A new strength. A new friend. A new spark.
Running this business has broken me open in ways I didn’t expect… but it’s also filled my life with the warmest community, the sweetest customers, the most unexpected friendships, and moments I’ll cherish forever.
Even when everything feels like it’s falling apart, when the chaos is loud, or the setbacks are embarrassing, or the dreams feel too big for one person to carry, I still choose this.
I still choose to pour. I still choose to create. I still choose to show up. I still choose this life. Because even when the ugly happens… there is beauty in the chaos.
And I’m not going anywhere.
Cheers to 2025. May we have a year of growth, opportunities, and success.
