You know when you’re scrolling Instagram, and you see your neighbourhood restaurant has a new menu, and everything looks delicious.

You start thinking about messaging your local best mate. But you stop yourself, because work next month is a bit low.

So instead, you write a quick Insta post, hoping it might bring a few people in. Or you wonder if it’s time to set up that email thing.

When what you want is simple. To do the work you started all of this for. And for the business to quietly do its job in the background.

And then, you want to take Wednesday afternoon off. Go for lunch, order the lobster*, split a bottle of wine and catch up with your mate.

That tension, between the work you love and the business that’s meant to support it, is exactly where I work. It’s why Gently Created exists.

Then, both you and I get to order the lobster.*

All so that one day, in our rocking chairs, looking back at all of it, we can say without hesitation, yes. I’d choose this business all over again.

A few things I believe, fairly strongly

You’re not a machine, and neither is your business

Whatever the internet keeps insisting. So let’s make sure your business lets you stay the person who loves doing the work — not slowly turn you into a machine for producing it.

Diagnosis first, always

The whole world of quick fixes and trendy frameworks is exhausting — and mostly it sells you the wrong thing, beautifully. So let’s not start there. Let’s work out what’s actually going on first, and then figure out which solution is right for you, specifically.

Room to play

Every business is better with a bit more space in it — to be playful, to let things percolate, to stare out of the window for a while. That’s where the good stuff comes from. Honestly, it’s the only reason I’m a fan of structure at all: not to box you in, but to make room.

Thinking & doing

A coach hands you things to think about, and you leave with a longer to-do list. A freelancer hands you a pair of hands that don’t know your business, and you risk an expensive wrong turn.

So I’m neither — I went and made up my own title: thinking partner and co-creator. Which just means we work out what to build and build it together, so it’s properly yours by the end, and you actually understand the thing you’re left holding.

And because you’re deciding whether I’m your kind of person, here’s who you’d be talking to.

By 25 I’d worked myself into being Executive Director of a theatre.

First-class degree, an invitation to Who’s Who, the lot. I also burnt out completely, which is why everything in my life now is deliberately gentle. There’s still fun, still fast, still the occasional fury (have you seen the world). But the whole thing is built to encourage gentleness, on purpose, because I know precisely what the other way costs.

At 40 I realised I was living the life I thought I ‘should’ be living

So I quit, rented out my flat, and went travelling on my own for a few years. Ten years later I had the identical realisation about my business — that I’d built it around someone else’s idea of success, which turned out to be both unfulfilling and boring. So I rebuilt it around mine. That’s the short version of how Gently Created got here.

I live in Falmouth now.

I moved on a whim after a day-trip on a ferry — and what a crackin’ decision. I love how this place looks after its own. I watched a new bar’s Insta account this morning fill up with every other local bar wishing them luck — that’s the business world I want to be part of, and the one I want to help build.

I love the sea, and tea. I think best either paddling in the shallows or gazing at the horizon with a cuppa — which is why you’ll find a lot of #brewwithaview here and on my socials. And music: I make a playlist for every big project. It’s not a quirk, it’s what keeps me going.

Finally — because if you made it this far, you deserve a wee reward. I’m shy. I find life online genuinely tricky (yes, I appreciate the irony, given the business I’ve built). If we ever chat one-on-one, I’ll have given myself a pep talk first. And counted my fingers, which is my way of grounding myself, a trick I picked up in my theatre days.

So. If any of that landed, you’re probably a lovely founder or creative, doing lovely things, just a bit tired of being told to do more of them.

I’m not here to hand you a silver bullet — there isn’t one. But I am here to help you see what’s already there.

So that both you and I get to order the lobster.*

*Other delicious and decadent dishes are available on your menu.

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