The 5 Most Vulnerable Moments in My Business (And What They Taught Me About Trust, Truth, and Expansion)

Certain stories don’t make it to your Instagram feed. Not because they aren’t worth sharing, but because they still feel tender.

They’re the kind of moments that stretch you so deeply, you’re not the same person on the other side. The kind that cracks you open. That asks you to trust something bigger than logic.

Today, I want to take you behind the scenes of five moments like that in my business journey. This isn’t a highlight reel. It’s the real stuff. The messy middle.

I hope that something here makes you feel less alone. That you recognize yourself in these stories. And that you feel even more affirmed in your own nonlinear, beautiful, soul-led path.

Let’s dive in.

1. Leaving My Nursing Job With Only 75% Certainty

I didn’t leap into entrepreneurship with unshakable confidence and a perfect plan. I left my stable nursing job when I felt… maybe 75% sure.

That’s right. Not 100%. Not even 90%.

I remember the gut-dropping feeling when I realized I was going to do it. I was walking away from a steady paycheck, job security, and an identity I had spent years building.

And I knew people wouldn’t understand. Especially my family. Especially the version of me who used to find so much pride in being the "responsible one."

The truth?

I stayed in nursing longer than I wanted to because it felt safe. But that safety was an illusion. My soul was screaming for something different. And the longer I tried to ignore it, the louder it got.

Letting go of that job wasn’t just about switching careers. It was about surrendering control. Trusting my voice. Making peace with the fact that other people might not get it and doing it anyway.

What that season taught me:

Sometimes, “sure enough” is all you need. Trust grows through action. And it’s okay to grieve what you're leaving behind while being wildly excited about what’s ahead.

2. Building a Business With a Baby on the Way

I found out I was pregnant just as I was starting to gain real traction in my business. The timing felt... inconvenient. Beautiful. Wild. Overwhelming.

All of it.

Suddenly, I wasn’t just building a business—I was preparing to become a mother. And I felt like I had this invisible countdown clock hovering over everything I did. Nine months to build something that could carry me through maternity leave. Nine months to figure it all out.

That pressure pushed me into mastery. I refined my messaging. I doubled down on client experience. I created systems. I filled my roster. I even had a waitlist when I finally stepped back to rest. And yet…

The year after Beckham was born was one of the hardest of my life. I battled postpartum depression. I was healing from a traumatic birth. I was grieving the identity I left behind and trying to make sense of who I was now. And I was still showing up.

But the truth is—I didn’t do it alone.

I was being held in four different support spaces at the time. Some might call that overkill. For me? It was what kept me afloat.

What I learned:

Asking for help isn’t a weakness. It’s leadership. Support isn’t optional when you’re building something that matters—it’s essential.

3. Getting Burned in Business (AKA The Client Moments No One Talks About)

This one is raw.

Let’s talk about the not-so-glamorous side of client work.

Like the client I worked with for a year, who backed out six months in… and then ghosted me. Or the ones who didn’t get the results they hoped for and blamed me. Or the time someone left hateful comments on a post, which I spent hours crafting.

There were seasons I questioned everything. My process. My voice. My worth. I thought that once I hit a certain milestone, things would feel easier. That success would protect me from hard client experiences.

Spoiler alert: it doesn’t.

The challenges don’t go away—they just evolve.

And the deeper I got into this work, the more I realized I had a savior complex that needed to be dismantled. (Nurse energy, anyone?)

I wanted so badly for every client to have a breakthrough. To walk away changed. To fall in love with their voice, the way I had learned to.

But it’s not my job to fix. It’s my job to hold the space. To walk beside. To reflect the truth. To trust their timeline.

Biggest takeaway:

You’re not responsible for someone else’s transformation. You can hold a loving, powerful space—and still not control the outcome. That’s the work. That’s the edge.

4. Saying Goodbye to 39% of My Revenue (on Purpose)

Whew. This one made my nervous system scream.

In the early days of my business, I did a lot of contract coaching for other companies. At one point, it made up 39% of my income. And I was grateful for it. It helped me build confidence. It paid the bills. It gave me a consistent structure in those scrappy early days.

But after having Beckham, my priorities shifted. I was craving spaciousness. Simplicity. More ownership over how I worked and who I served. So I looked at that income stream and realized it wasn’t aligned anymore. The moment I decided to let it go, I had a full-body panic.

“Can I replace that income?”

“Am I delusional for walking away from something that’s working?”

“What if this was the only reason I was successful?”

I had to get very honest with myself.

The truth?

I was playing small by holding onto what felt familiar, but no longer felt right. So I released it. And that decision stretched me in the best ways.

It challenged my money mindset. It pushed me into creativity. It reminded me that alignment is more important than comfort.

Lesson burned into my brain:

Expansion often requires release. You can’t create space for what’s next if your hands are full of what no longer serves you.

5. When the Launch Flopped

You know those stories where someone launches something and it sells out in 24 hours? Yeah. That wasn’t me.

Let’s talk about failed launches.

The first group program I ever created? Crickets.

The first retreat I announced? Nada.

Even the second time I launched Vibrant Visibility—a program that had been a huge hit the first time—flopped hard.

At first, I thought something was wrong with my strategy. But when I looked deeper, I noticed a different pattern.

Every time I flopped, I either:

• Didn’t show up the way the offer needed me to
• Or I wasn’t fully bought into the offer myself

In that second Vibrant Visibility launch, I never truly recovered from the energetic output of the first one. I coasted. I hoped it would sell itself.

It didn’t. And honestly? I’m glad. Because it forced me to re-evaluate everything—from the offer itself to how I was relating to it.

Here’s what I know now:

Sometimes, a flop is the best thing that can happen. It’s an invitation to pause. To recalibrate. To check your energy, your intention, and your message. It’s not a sign to quit—it’s a call to realign.

If You’re in the Middle of a Messy Chapter, I See You

Every single one of these moments asked me to dig deeper. To be more honest. To soften. To get scrappy. To recalibrate. To trust in things I couldn’t see yet. They were uncomfortable. But they made me.

They helped me become the coach I am now. Someone who can sit with discomfort. Who knows how to move with the messy middle. Who can hold space for others without losing herself in the process.

So if you’re in a vulnerable season of your own, this is your reminder:

You’re not doing it wrong.

You’re doing something brave.

Keep going.

What You Can Do When Business Feels Tender

Here are a few things that supported me in those vulnerable seasons—maybe they’ll support you too:

✨ Get resourced before you’re in crisis.

Whether that’s therapy, coaching, somatic support, peer masterminds, or mentorship, don’t wait until everything falls apart to get help.

✨ Let it be messy.

Not every season will be your most polished or productive. Some seasons are for composting. For resting. For becoming.

✨ Track your proof.

Keep a journal of evidence that you’re growing. Notes from clients, moments of clarity, small wins. Your brain will forget. Write it down.

✨ Share the real story.

You don’t have to market through perfection. Some of my most magnetic content has come from real-time vulnerability. When it feels safe, let people see the you behind the brand.

Want Support Navigating Your Brave Season?

If any of this resonated—if you're in the thick of building something big and feeling all the fears and feeling...

I want you to know, you don't have to do it alone.

✨ DM me or tag me on Instagram @nursecoachshawne and tell me what part hit you hardest.

✨ Or if you’re craving support and strategy to help you walk through your visibility fears, let’s talk. You can apply for 1:1 coaching with me here.

You’ve got this. Even when it’s scary.

Especially when it’s scary.

Cheering you on.

XO,

Shawne