Somewhere along the line, social media turned business ownership into a perfectly curated aesthetic.
Soft morning light, matcha lattes, laptop on a marble table, “self-made” in the bio, and a never-ending highlight reel of success.
And honestly?
It’s annoying.
Because here’s the truth no one wants to talk about: being a business owner is hard.
It takes everything out of you — time, money, energy, emotions, your weekends, your sanity, all of it. Even with a great team beside you, the weight of responsibility always falls back on you. If something goes wrong, it's your problem. If something breaks, your problem. If someone calls off, your problem. If sales dip, your problem. The pressure doesn’t pause just because you want a day off.
But scroll through Instagram or TikTok and you’d think entrepreneurship is just cute outfits, travel, and brand deals.
And that’s where the disconnect starts.
I see it when I interview new people.
A lot of them tell me they want to be business owners one day. Big dreams, big confidence. And I love ambition — I really do. But then reality hits. I hire them… and suddenly:
They miss the smallest details.
They don’t have work ethic.
They're constantly calling off.
They’re filled with excuses.
They can’t take direction.
They want the title but not the responsibility.
And I’m left wondering: How do you want to run a business when you can’t even show up consistently for a job?
Make it make sense.
But truthfully, I already know the answer:
It’s because of what they’ve been fed on social media.
Everywhere you turn, entrepreneurship is packaged as freedom, luxury, and independence. You don’t see the tears, the late nights, the financial risks, the uncertainty, the discipline, the pressure, the self-doubt. You don’t see the sacrifices — the real sacrifices — that come with keeping a business alive.
People say they “don’t want to work for anyone,” but can’t take a simple direction without shutting down. They want independence but haven’t developed the discipline independence requires. They want success but avoid discomfort. They want ownership but skip the responsibility part.
Entrepreneurship is not an escape.
It’s not an aesthetic.
It’s not a shortcut to comfort.
It’s work.
Real work.
Every day.
With no guaranteed paycheck waiting at the end of the week.
And don’t get me wrong — I wouldn’t trade my life as a business owner for anything. I love what I do, deeply. But I also respect the weight of it. The seriousness of it. The truth of it.
Maybe one day social media will show the full story.
But until then, I’ll be here, running my business the real way — not the romanticized one.
xo,
A