Six Months in the Mess

My Journey
Written By Britney Achin

Part 2 of the “After the Fire” series

After my best friend died, I didn’t know what to do with myself. But I knew I couldn’t keep doing what I had been doing.

I wasn’t lost exactly. I was very clear that I wanted to move forward. But forward, for the first time in a long time, didn’t look like scaling, performing, or pushing. Everything inside me had rearranged.

I had already built a business. I had already built systems. I had already survived things I don’t say out loud in professional spaces. What I hadn’t done—what I’d been too exhausted, too smart, and too strategic to risk—was show up publicly as myself.

But in the silence that followed her death, I made a quiet promise: I would stop hiding.I would stop performing other people’s power.I would stop waiting for a moment when it would feel safe to be seen.

And I started showing up. On Instagram. On LinkedIn. On camera. In captions. Not with a polished rollout or a product to sell—just with a commitment to find what connects to my community.

And what followed was six full months of testing. Of missteps. Of trying things I’ve definitely taught people not to do—but needed to do myself to remember why.

I posted business quote graphics in my brand colors, even though I hated the tone. I let someone talk me into a muted, sophisticated palette—deep plum and gold—that felt elegant but emotionally flat. I used caption styles I knew weren’t me, but thought might "perform." I watched clean, well-designed, technically solid content flop. And it needed to.

Because what I was learning—again—was something I tell clients all the time:If it isn’t true, it won’t land. And if you’re not willing to be seen, no system in the world will save you.

Then one day, I left a comment. Just a comment. Unfiltered. Strategic, but not performative. Definitely true. And it exploded.

Thousands of people found my page. Hundreds of people reached out. They didn’t want polished content. They wanted connection. They didn’t care about a niche. They wanted something real. They wanted someone who had lived through something and had something to offer them on the other side.

That’s when I realized: they’re ready. And I am too.

Because I’ve been sitting on a full body of knowledge. Not just content—infrastructure. About how to actually leave the U.S. without a trust fund. About how to work remotely without being in survival mode every day. About how to structure a life that can support neurodivergence, chronic illness, grief, and creative clarity all at once. Not with theory. With lived proof.

I’ve done the hardest parts already. Without a map. Without permission. That’s not just experience—it’s expertise.

And yet, for years, I had built quietly. I had created high-value, SEO-optimized resources for entrepreneurs: client onboarding flows, remote team systems, digital product structures, automation maps. My blog was full of free tools. I had a Trello-based dashboard for every offer. I had spreadsheets for launches and strategy timelines.

But it didn’t matter. Because no one clicked.

That kind of content barely made a ripple. Not compared to what happens when I talk about building a life people can actually survive in. When I talk about remote work not as a dream, but as an exit strategy. When I talk about systems not as productivity porn, but as survival tools.

And what’s wild is—it’s the same work. The same systems. The same strategy. Just told from the place I’m actually standing.

Once I stopped trying to fit my work into the boxes I’d outgrown—and started speaking from my own life—people finally heard me.

I’ve spent these six months re-grounding in what I already know:

→ That most of the people who burn out in online business don’t fail because they’re undisciplined, but because no one ever taught them how to build a structure that works for their life.

→ That our current “creator economy” is collapsing under its own weight—flattening value while raising costs, forcing us back into job markets we left for a reason.

→ That most of the tech systems we’re told to rely on are optimized for extraction, not liberation. And that I’d rather build slowly, with fewer tools, fewer subscriptions, and more clarity.

That’s what I’ve done. I’ve rebuilt my backend to run on the fewest paid platforms possible. I keep my infrastructure lean—not because it’s trendy (or easier), but because it’s replicable. And because I want to teach it to others without asking them to pay for a million damn apps or trying to trap them in an expensive coaching container.

I don’t want to sell you ease while quietly burning out behind the scenes. I don’t want to teach you scale when what you need is a string foundation. I don’t want to funnel you into a $997 course. I want to give you something that works and is simple to use at your own pace that you can customizeze to fit your learning style.

My rebuild reflects the same work I do with my clients:

→ Define your safety system.

→ Create an ecosystem that fits your capacity.

→ Know what you’re not willing to compromise on.

And I’m crystal clear on mine.

I’m not willing to compromise on truth. I’m not willing to exploit pain for profit. I’m not willing to build systems that make me sick. And I’m not willing to market bloated programs to people who are already drowning, just to prove a conversion rate.

I’m not interested in having a business empire. I’m building a community..

In the next post, I’ll walk through exactly what I’m building:

The digital product ecosystem.

The offers I’ve kept—and the ones I’ve let go.

The future of the community I’m launching.

But this part—the mess? It matters. Because I didn’t just post. I didn’t just pivot.

I stopped waiting. And I started learning out loud.

If this resonated—I have free tools for folks navigating the same questions:

More is coming: a full digital ecosystem, a community of remote workers and expats, and practical tools designed for people who are building real lives outside the usual script.

You can get updates on my site, or reach out if you’re building something of your own and want grounded support.

Britney Achin
Next

Losing Her Changed Everything