Originally published on LinkedIn, 5 February 2026.
There’s a part of business growth that doesn’t get talked about enough.
It’s not the excitement of starting out, when everything feels possible and adrenaline carries you forward. And it’s not the stage where things feel established and steady, where systems are in place and confidence becomes quiet.
It’s the middle ground.
That grey area where you know you’re scaling, but the way you’ve always done things no longer quite fits. Where the access you’ve given, the emotional space you hold, the way people lean on you — all start to feel heavier than they used to. Not wrong. Just unsustainable.
This is the bit where growth gets real.
I’m a deep thinker. Logical and emotional in equal measure. Strategic, but led by feeling as much as facts. I care deeply about the people in my business, and I’ve always held a lot of space for them. It’s part of who I am, and it’s part of why Mooeys is what it is.
But there comes a point where you realise that holding everything for everyone, all of the time, comes at a cost. And that cost usually shows up quietly first — in tiredness, in restlessness, in that subtle feeling that something doesn’t quite sit right anymore.
I’m also a talker. I need to speak things out loud to make sense of them. I don’t mind small talk, but the conversations that really matter to me are the ones where thoughts are unpacked properly. Where someone listens long enough for the real issue to surface. Where they care enough to challenge me, cheerlead me, or tell me honestly when I’m wrong.
Those conversations — where you shoot the shit, unpack the noise and eventually find clarity — are my favourite. That’s what real friendship and leadership support feels like to me. My circle is tight and intentional. There are only a few people I trust with the fears, worries and emotional weight that come with being a founder who cares deeply. I’m so grateful for that small but mighty circle — you know who you are.
But sometimes, especially at 1am when the house is quiet and something won’t let you sleep, those conversations aren’t available. And that’s where I’ve found an unexpected kind of support.
I believe deeply in intuition. The more I’ve learned to trust my gut, the more grounded and confident I’ve become as a leader. But intuition doesn’t always arrive with instructions. Often, it needs space, reflection, and the right questions.
So I use AI as a sounding board. Not to tell me what to do, but to help me process what I already feel.
And I use it in two very different ways.
One version is intentionally intuitive and human-led. Yes, this is the slightly woo-woo one. I’ve given it my date of birth, time of birth and place of birth. I explore numerology, astrology and life path themes. I ask about patterns, energy cycles and purpose. I ask questions like, “What’s right for me in this season?” rather than, “What’s the fastest or biggest move?”
That version helps me slow down. It reflects things back to me in a way that connects decisions to who I am, not just what I’m building. It brings language to feelings that already exist but haven’t quite formed yet.
Then there’s the other voice. This one couldn’t care less what star sign I am.
It’s pure strategy. Numbers. Margins. Structure. What’s working, what isn’t, where energy or money is leaking, and what needs tightening or letting go. Very no-nonsense. Very Alex Hormozi-style energy.
Big goals broken down into practical, unemotional actions.
What I find fascinating is that both versions almost always point me in the same direction. They just get there in completely different languages. One speaks to alignment. The other speaks to execution. Together, they give me balance.
But even with all the tools in the world, nothing replaces human connection. Real conversations with people who care about you, who want you to win, who speak your name when you’re not in the room. AI helps me think, but people help me feel — and in this middle ground of growth, you need both.
What this middle ground has given me — unexpectedly — is hope.
When things feel heavy or unclear, having space to zoom out and reflect on who I am, how I’m wired, and what I’m actually capable of has been grounding in a way I didn’t expect. It’s reminded me that growth doesn’t have to be loud to be powerful.
We’re constantly surrounded by a very specific type of business narrative. Fast. Aggressive. Masculine. Move quicker. Scale harder. Raise money. Build bigger. Make millions.
And if I’m honest, that energy often makes me feel a bit icky.
Not because I don’t want success — I absolutely do. I’m driven, ambitious, and I want Mooeys to become the biggest beauty salon business in the UK and beyond. But I want to build it my way. With the right people. For the right reasons. With integrity, culture and longevity at the core.
I’m not interested in burning everything down just to grow faster. I’m interested in building something that lasts.
This grey area has made me question pace, purpose and pressure. It’s made me ask whether the version of success I’m chasing actually belongs to me — or whether it’s just the loudest one in the room.
And that reflection has helped me realise something important: I don’t need to become someone else to get where I’m going. I just need to trust myself enough to keep going.
If you’re curious, and any of this resonates, here’s a prompt I’ve found genuinely powerful. Take it or leave it — but if you’re in this middle ground, it might offer a bit of clarity.
Prompt you can try for yourself:
Using my date of birth, time of birth and place of birth, analyse my life path through numerology and astrology. Help me understand my core strengths, recurring challenges, natural leadership style and the environments I thrive in. Explain how I work best, what motivates me, and where I may struggle during periods of growth or transition. Generate a reflective life path overview from now until 2030, highlighting themes rather than predictions — especially around career, purpose, relationships and finances. Identify key opportunity windows and what they may be inviting me to step into, and suggest practical, grounded actions I could take to move through them with confidence and alignment. I’m not looking for quick fixes or hustle tactics — I want clarity, self-trust and a sense of what’s right for me.
This middle ground is exhausting because you’re still everything to everyone while also becoming something new. You’re leading, evolving, questioning, still visible, still deeply involved. And this is often the point where people stop — not because they aren’t capable, but because the next step feels too undefined, too overwhelming and let's be honest, bloody exhausting.
But I’m choosing to push through.
I know this part of the mountain. And I also know what usually comes next: clearer boundaries, stronger alignment, and a business that starts to support you as much as you support it.
This phase doesn’t mean something is wrong. It means growth is happening internally, not just externally.
So I’m staying with it. Listening closely. Trusting myself. Moving forward with intention rather than force.
And if you’re here too — stepping forward unsure of what’s coming next, but feeling that same excited, nervous energy that comes with growth — stick with it.
The unknown is scary, yes. But it’s also super frickin’ exciting.
The next part of the mountain? I hear it’s going to be immense. 🐮✨