10 Years in Business: What I’ve Learned About Burnout, Boundaries, and Building a Brand That Actually Feels Good

This year marks 10 years in business for me.

But it didn’t start here. When I was 23, I was a newly engaged, fresh-out-of-college teacher deep into planning my own wedding. I designed my own invitations—mostly to scratch the creative itch and, let’s be honest, to show off a little online. I posted them on Facebook hoping for some design oversharing praise… and it blew up.

People I hadn’t talked to since middle school and high school were suddenly in my DMs asking if I could design their wedding invitations, too.

Suddenly, I had a stationery business.

I went from designing my own DIY suite to shipping out custom letterpress and foil-stamped invitations to couples all over the world. I scaled my Pinterest to over 2 million monthly viewers (in 2016! Pre-influencer era, which is wild in hindsight), and my Showit website even crashed from too much traffic. It was thrilling. Chaotic. And exactly what 23-year-old me wanted.

But I had zero boundaries. I worked 12- to 16-hour days. I even worked four hours a day on my honeymoon. I’d stay up all night obsessing over my website, figuring out what a trademark was, the difference between an LLC and a sole prop, or perfecting a client’s invitation suite. I didn’t believe burnout was real. I just believed that if I worked hard enough, success would follow.

The business became my identity. My entire self-worth.

When burnout hit, it hit hard.

Right before the pandemic—and right around the time I got pregnant with my first child—I hit a wall. Weddings were being postponed indefinitely. Clients were asking for change-the-date cards, and I felt awful charging for them—but I also couldn’t afford to work for free. I didn’t want to keep doing this.

So I let it all go. I purposely let my domain expire (which ended up being a $50K mistake—read the story about the mistake and my business name change here). I threw in the towel.

From there, I freelanced. I picked up scrappy design jobs, built a top selling Etsy shop with digital downloads, development work, whatever I could find that didn’t require me to be the one in charge. I didn’t want to think. I didn’t want every decision to carry so much weight—“Will this move my business forward?” “Will it move it forward enough?”

Instead, I focused on becoming a mom. And in classic me fashion—obsessive, all-or-nothing (my therapist kindly rebranded it to “passionate”)—I dove into it fully. I researched sleep schedules, baby-led weaning, everything. (Spoiler alert: It worked, but now my kid lives off nuggets, fruit snacks, and the occasional fry.)

Professionally, I was building websites for agencies on every platform—Squarespace, Wix, WordPress, Webflow—for businesses like plumbers, contractors, and mortgage lenders. It was… fine. But it wasn’t me. It wasn’t creative. It wasn’t fulfilling.

And slowly, that same burnout started creeping in again.

So in September 2024, I relaunched Unica Forma as a branding and web design studio, named Unica Formo because of the domain mistake mentioned earlier—and made a promise to myself:

This business would be built around my life, not the other way around.

That one shift changed everything.

Now, I only work with people I truly believe in—clients I’d hire myself, follow online, or want to be friends with in real life. I design for humans doing meaningful work, and I help them build a digital presence that lets them actually live outside of work, too.

Here are the biggest lessons I’ve learned along the way—and how working with people like you continues to teach me more.

Strategy Matters More Than Aesthetics

I used to obsess over the details—the exact hex code, the perfect underline, the tightest kerning. But after 10 years in this industry, I’ve learned that no one sticks around long enough to admire your palette if they don’t know what you do or how you can help them.

Now, I won’t touch fonts or colors until I’m clear on messaging and hierarchy. I map out websites like a story—What’s the hook? What questions will your audience ask as they scroll? What do they need to believe before they click?

Design supports that strategy. It doesn’t lead it.

And honestly? My clients have helped me see this even more. I’ve had people come to me after working with designers who gave them something pretty but unusable. Now I ask deeper questions and get to the root of what they’re trying to communicate—and that creates a stronger final product.

Clients Don’t Want to Feel Like a Number

The first time a client cried on a design call, I thought I’d messed up. But she was crying because she felt seen. Someone finally got what she was trying to build.

Since then, I’ve realized: the deliverable is design, but the real value is the experience.

I’ve learned to build space into my process for connection. Whether it’s a journal-style intake form or simply voice note check-ins, I want my clients to feel heard, human, and not rushed. I ask questions about their lives outside of work, because that part matters too.

And in return? They teach me so much. One client who was building a grief support platform shared stories that reshaped how I think about visual tone and accessibility. Another gave me the courage to raise my rates just by showing up fully confident in her own worth.

Done Is Better Than Perfect

I’ve launched websites with placeholder images. I’ve sent draft links from my phone while juggling mom life chaos. And guess what? They still worked.

I used to think everything had to be flawless. Now I know that momentum matters more. You can evolve and improve as you go—but your audience can’t connect with something that doesn’t exist yet.

Even now, I have to remind myself not to redo my site every other week. Progress > perfection.

Clients have helped me embody this. One therapist said to me: “If I waited to feel 100% ready, I’d never have started.” Her words helped me push past my own hesitation with launching offers.

Boundaries Make Everything Better

In round one of Unica Forma, I worked nights, weekends, and holidays. I was answering emails at midnight and updating proofs on my honeymoon. I told myself it was hustle… but it was really fear.

Now? I have office hours. I take weekends off. I build in breaks. And I’ve learned that clients respect those boundaries more than I ever expected.

And you know what? They teach me, too. I’ve had clients who block off every Friday for rest, who auto-reply their vacation weeks, who only work during school hours—and it’s helped me feel more comfortable doing the same.

You Don’t Have to Do It All

After having 10 years in business, I finally internalized this. I’m scrappy and used to doing everything myself—but it was no longer sustainable. Three months after relaunching, I hired an SEO expert. I wanted to learn every single thing I could and have my work double checked. At six months, I was beyond max capacity, so I hired a brand designer. I even hired a monthly cleaning service at home.

Because even though I could do it all? It’s not where my energy is best spent.

And honestly, that’s what I want for my clients too. I want to build websites that work while you’re living your life—cooking, parenting, reading, resting. Strategy and SEO can help people find you without you constantly being online.

Final Thoughts

Whether you’re building your own website or hiring someone to help, your site should feel like a support system—not another thing weighing you down.

If it’s done with intention, it can reflect the full version of you. It can attract your people. And it can give you more time and space for everything else that matters.

And if you need help figuring that out, I’m here. No pressure, just support.

→ Curious what it’s like to work together? Take a peek at my process.
→ Or if you’re ready to chat, reach out here.