For people who are newer to this blog and the operation move community, you might not even know that it used to be a partnership. For others, it only becomes obvious maybe if you are listening to the podcast from the beginning and you are obviously listening to two people instead of one.
The other day a friend of mine asked me how I was adapting to being solo. And the answer is, I’m adapting.
Sometimes I get reminded, like when people send me an email or a facebook message and address it to “Dear Ladies”. Well, there’s just one of me now.
Some weeks I feel like I have it all together, and other weeks it feels like there’s too much to do and I’m barely hanging on. The other day I was going back looking for a particular post I’d written on one of my different websites and I was struck by how many other things I used to do with writing and how they’ve all fallen by the wayside. It’s not that I don’t have time. Everyone has time, you know? But I choose to prioritise my time for Operation Move rather than other projects. But you have more leeway when you aren’t a solo act, and that became obvious looking back through my archives. I’m glad they are still there, though. It’s not a painful reminder so much as a revelation of ‘wow. I used to do that.’
Sometimes it feels like the elephant in the room, that I’m not talking about. But then I’m not sure if I’m the only one who feels that way. The truth is that separating out any partnership is a thousand different things, not just one decision. It’s email addresses and passwords and old blog posts and header photos and covers of e-bboks and administrative remnants and messages about old podcast episodes. It’s a million reminders that pop up in your Timehop. And it’s dates that are no longer recognised. I end up feeling like an adoptive mother because I didn’t create the sisterhood: but I nurtured it, defended it, protected it and advocated for it like no one else would.
I’ve been in a few business partnerships and I always tend to settle into the behind the scenes type role. I do a lot of the grunt work and the technical stuff. And someone else worries about the presentation. So although I was hidden to a certain extent, it also meant I was protected from some of the harder decision making parts and some of the harsher realities of running a business as well. Being on my own, I had to get really good at a whole heap of things that I didn’t know how to do, really fast. And I had to get REALLY good at managing my own stress levels so I didn’t implode.
But now the things I like about it is I get to pursue my own vision, if I make a mistake I’m the only one who suffers for it and it feels more mine now than it did before. In the past when I’d take over for periods, it always felt like limbo, like I was a placeholder. And it feels different now.
In a sense, I think going solo has allowed me to be more unapologetically myself.
My friend said to me she thought that with the logo redesign a website-redesign might be cathartic for me. And I think she is probably right.
