I never set out to become an entrepreneur.
I just kept finding ways to make life work — until I realized I was building something bigger than survival.
To me, entrepreneurs were people chasing millions with polished pitches. I’ve always been more comfortable with “just enough.”
I had ideas — lots of them — but it took me years to realize: an entrepreneur is just an idea person who takes action.
Looking back, I’ve been building businesses since my twenties — selling Avon door to door, cleaning houses, baking cupcakes, even training dogs. (Yep, my last name was Ruff at the time, so the business was called “Life’s Not Ruff.”)
I didn’t see any of that as entrepreneurship. I just saw it as a way to make things work. Or monetizing a hobby.
But when my second marriage ended, I needed more than “making it work.”
I was a newly single mom with three kids, no health insurance, and a job that paid less than $30,000 a year — with no room to grow. I knew something had to change.
At the time, I was managing social media “just for fun.” A friend-of-a-friend, a realtor, once offered to pay me to manage her social media and I had said no.
But when life shifted, I realized I needed to find a way to bring in more money. So I reached out to her and she still needed a social media manager! $250/month. My first paying client.
I posted on Facebook that I was starting a freelance business and taking on new clients, and almost immediately, two more came in.
I was still working full-time, freelancing late at night, raising three kids, and just trying to keep it together. I didn’t have it all figured out — but I started anyway. You don’t have to have it all figured out to start something great. You just have to start.
Around the same time, I began yoga teacher training at Awakened Yoga Studio. It had nothing to do with my career — or so I thought. But it gave me the space to ask myself the big questions:
What do I actually want my life to look like?
Who am I when I strip away everyone else’s expectations?
What are my core values?
That experience — and Grace’s guidance — gave me clarity. I didn’t just want to survive anymore. I wanted to build something that worked for me and my kids. That space helped me start to see myself as a business owner.
Soon I was turning away clients. There just weren’t enough hours in the day to take on more work and still do a good job with my freelancing gig.
I had a meeting with a good friend and amazing marketer, Danny Gavin to discuss what my next steps should be. I was considering leaving my job at the school to freelance full time. If I wanted to make it work I would need to increase my prices and I was hesitant to do so. What if I wasn’t good enough?
We met at a coffee shop, and I’ll never forget what he said:
“Bea, you’re really good at this. You’re worth it.”
That conversation was a turning point. It gave me permission to stop calling this a hobby.
So I created a plan and gave my job notice. After I left my job at the school, I treated every day like work — reaching out to companies, showing up in Facebook groups, attending networking events.
Within six weeks I doubled my client load. The business kept growing and I hired an intern and then a team. I rented an office in Southwest Houston and started hosting workshops. It felt amazing — the momentum, the growth, the recognition.
But then March 2020 hit. COVID arrived. And within weeks, I lost a third of my clients. I had to let everyone go and rebuild from scratch.
I was managing homeschool by day, working by night. I was exhausted — but determined. Ironically, COVID became a launchpad.
With everyone stuck at home, brands needed help connecting online. My business exploded. I had 30+ clients and hired five employees. I had built the business I thought I was supposed to want — but I was burnt out. I wasn’t doing the work I loved anymore. I was managing people.
I took a long, honest look at what I needed and realized I didn’t need massive growth. I need a business that fits my life.
Today, I work with a small group of large clients. I collaborate with freelancers when I need extra help — writers, videographers, paid ads specialists. I do the work I love, and I’m present for my kids.
I take breaks. I pause.
We’ve gone from a small apartment and a laptop to a home where every kid has their own room. We’ve taken real vacations. We’ve built a life.
And I still have long days. There are seasons where everything feels heavy. But I know I can handle it.
I didn’t follow a polished pitch. I followed my gut.
And that’s how I built a business worth showing up for.
