What Happens When You Actually Make It?
- BennyAni Photography

- May 11
- 3 min read
Hey—Marggie here. It’s been a minute since I’ve sat down to write something like this, but if you’ve been following along lately, you know I’ve had some things on my mind, and this one feels important. A couple years ago, I had my biggest year in business, just shy of $300k. Like… what?! It was everything you think it should be. Cue the confetti, the “you made it,” the validation that says you did the thing. But instead of feeling on top of the world, I felt pressure and a lot of it. Because suddenly it wasn’t about what I built, it became, “Can you do it again? Can you grow more? Can you keep this up?” And somewhere in all of that, I started to lose myself.
We talk so much about building a business, scaling it, and hitting goals, but no one really talks about what happens after you get there. No one tells you that you might not feel fulfilled, that you might feel exhausted, or that you might wake up one day and think, “Wait… do I even want this anymore?” And then came the burnout. Not just tired. Nope, I was done. Done with photography, done with my business, done with everything I had worked so hard to build. And the wild part is there was no logical reason for it. This business gave me flexibility, income, creativity, and purpose… and still, I hated it.
At the same time, I was dealing with perimenopause, something I didn’t fully understand then, but looking back now, it explains so much. This wasn’t just burnout. It was brain fog, emotional swings, disconnection, zero motivation, and not feeling like myself at all. So I did what I thought made sense. I started chasing something new. New ideas, new businesses, new ways to make money. I thought the answer was starting over. I was trying to escape the dream I built by chasing another one.
During this time, I went all in on mindset work, and I want to be clear, I believed everything I was teaching, and I still do. But I was operating from urgency, pressure, and the need to prove myself. Because I was “that girl who could build a seven figure business from nothing.” I was chasing. I was desperate. And that kind of energy overrides everything. It showed. While I was trying to build something new, I stopped showing up fully in what I had already created. Clients slowed down, momentum dropped, financial stress crept in, and the guilt hit hard.
Here’s the part that matters, I don’t have all the answers. I’m still navigating perimenopause, but something shifted. Not in a big, dramatic way, but in a quiet, steady, “Oh… there you are” kind of way. My passion came back, my motivation came back, and I actually wanted to show up again. I realized I didn’t need to burn everything down. I needed to realign. I still believe I can build other things, but not from urgency or pressure. That kind of energy will never create what you think it will. What I know now is this: the last year gave me awareness. I understand the difference between chasing and aligning. I know that energy matters more than strategy, and I see that burnout isn’t always about your business.
So if you’re in this space right now, feeling off, disconnected, questioning everything. I want you to know you’re not broken. You’re not failing, and you’re definitely not alone. I’m back, but not from pressure, from clarity, and I feel stronger now than I did before. And here’s something else I remembered through all of this, something I had lost along the way. I relearned to value myself, my time, and my work. Even in a time where everything feels expensive and people are feeling the pressure of the rising cost of living, I made the decision to raise my prices. My sessions, my products, everything. And you know what? People still booked. People still bought. Because when you truly value what you offer, it shows in your energy, in your confidence, and in how you show up. The right people feel that. I stopped shrinking. I stopped second-guessing. I stopped pricing from fear. Because the truth is, just because you made it… doesn’t mean the journey is over. Sometimes, that’s where the real work begins.




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