When the Canvas Shifts While the Paint is Still Wet...

I Walked Away.

I share this not from a place of blame or regret, but from the quiet ground of awareness. This is what it can look like when we honour our gut, stand in our values, and choose long-term alignment over short-term momentum. When the canvas beneath you starts to shift, it’s okay to pause, to feel, to choose a different direction.

Just last week, I was teasing a new project within an existing shop, something I was preparing to launch this summer. The photos were taken during a moment of true flow, brush in hand, heart full, the dream once again taking shape. Another “making of” moment.

Another almost.

The Gut Feeling.

This isn’t new for me. As a creator, I’ve learned to ride the wave of excitement when a new opportunity arises. But I’ve also now learned how crucial it is not to get too attached too soon. I’ve learned to honor my excitement, but not confuse it for certainty.  It was close enough to touch, but NOT at the cost of my worth. The discomfort came right when I knew I needed to step up for myself. This time, I felt the signal early on… a knot in my stomach, a lump in my throat, and a quiet “no” that began to rise in my body. What allowed me to walk away before things got messy was listening to that gut feeling. Instead of ignoring it for the sake of ego or impatience, I leaned into it. I reached out to my circle, trusted friends and entrepreneurs who know how to hold space without judgment. Their support was immediate and unwavering. They reminded me what I already knew. Your nervous system doesn’t lie.

Am I frustrated and disappointed? FUCK YES! I could write a book about the so many "What ifs" and "almosts" in this journey of trying to find a home for my business.

The Lesson.

Life, business, and creative partnerships are complex. People bring their own fears, conditioning, and blind spots to the table. This time, I learned to lean on my network, whether for contract questions or emotional support. I learned that discernment is not the same as fear. I learned that walking away doesn’t mean failure. It means you trusted yourself enough to choose your own worth, and peace over potential chaos.

What I learned.

– To lean into my community, not just for guidance, but for emotional anchoring.

– To stay present with discomfort instead of bypassing it away. When the anxiety came up, I asked what it was trying to teach me instead of numbing it.

– To release attachment before anything even begins, because non-attachment gives us the freedom to pivot when needed.

The vision.

My vision is clearer than ever. Every detour, every pause, every “almost” has refined it. What I carry forward is not bitterness, but a fire in my belly. I want to help others, especially women, who are trying to bring their dream to life in spaces that don’t always feel aligned or welcoming. In environments where empathy can be mistaken for weakness, and where not everyone plays fair, it’s crucial that we have tools, community, and self-trust.

I’m still painting the bigger picture, just with more wisdom and a steadier hand. Thank you for riding these coffee waves with me. I’m grateful for the paint I still have, the people who believe in me, and the deeper purpose I’m stepping into.

With love, paint and coffee.

Stephanie ♡