There’s an assumption, I think, that putting yourself out there is what confident people do. That you don’t take on a podcast, or a public-facing platform, or any of it, unless you’re already baked in with a kind of self-assurance. That you love the camera, the sound of your own voice, the act of being seen.

It’s really not as simple as that.

Building Fine Form, a podcast and platform built squarely on the work of women reclaiming their ambition and definition of success, has forced me to confront the parts of myself I assumed that I had worked past.

The first time round there was cringe, but I told myself it was a one-off - first-podcast wobble, the unfamiliar sensation of hearing your own voice played back to you. Round two, I thought I’d be in a steadier place. In reality, it brought a lot of things up from under the surface.

I had a really toxic diet diary as a teenager - covered in cuttings of Victoria’s Secret models, tracking my weight daily alongside my own rating system of how I felt about myself. I had a deep loathing of my own body, the kind that takes years to even begin to undo. I found the diary not all that long ago and was deeply disturbed by it; I had a profound empathy for that young girl who was so deeply critical of herself. And yet, after the first day of recording Series 2, I came home and started in on myself again. Not with the full intensity of teenage Rebecca - but it was still the same critic.

I pushed through. Dived into the next day, had a truly wonderful conversation with the brilliant Jessica Vander Leahy about exactly this. But the edit is where it caught up with me. Working back through hours of unfiltered, unposed footage of myself talking - no chosen angles, no selected takes - the dread in the pit of my stomach started to churn. “Oh so this is what I really sound and look like?” The voice niggled. The obsessive thoughts started to worm their way in.

What I’ve come to understand, sitting with this, is that putting yourself out there is rarely a function of confidence in the moment. It’s a willingness to keep going while the old material is trying to put on the breaks. To sit with the cringe. To keep going while another part of you would very much prefer to delete it all and pretend it never happened.

We talk about confidence as if it’s the prerequisite for doing things - the thing you build first and act from second. In practice, for most of the women I speak to on the podcast, it works the other way around. You do the thing. You do it again. And slowly, something accrues - perhaps not always 100% confidence, but a kind of pride. Pride that despite the mental gymnastics, you stayed in. Pride that the loudest voice in your head was not, in the end, the one that decided what you could or couldn’t do.

The acceptance that has come from this round of Fine Form is not an acceptance of myself in any tidy, before-and-after way. It’s the acceptance that this is what it looks like - that doing public work while privately wrestling with insecurities is what putting yourself out there actually is and that the wrestling is not a sign you shouldn’t be doing it or that you’re getting it wrong.

There’s also a small, useful piece of perspective which I try to keep coming back to: no one actually gives as much of a shit as they think they do. The hours you spend listening to the cadence of your own voice, the frame you’re in, the take you wish you could redo - most people will catch thirty seconds, take what they need and carry on with their day. The ferocity of the internal commentary is wildly disproportionate to anything external.

So Series 2 lands next week. I am proud of it. I have spent the last couple of months in conversation with truly brilliant women - women whose honesty about ambition, work and reinvention has been affirming, enlightening and energising. That part - the conversations themselves - has been pure. It is why I am doing any of this.

I am also, still, in moments, the version of myself who can’t quite watch the trailer without flinching and who wants to do another fifty takes of the same conversation because I don’t think I’ve nailed any of the questions. Both of these things are true at once. And increasingly, I think that’s the deal - the inner commentary doesn’t go quiet; it just stops getting the final say. The pride accrues. The work outlasts the noise. And the version of yourself you build by doing it anyway is, by some distance, worth more than the one who would have waited until she felt ready.

What I’m Loving

Love gals doing clever things in art. Fine Form Series 1 guest Jade Gillett is someone I truly adore and am inspired by - not just for what she’s built, but for how she builds it. There’s a real pulse to the way she is evolving Rainbow Studios. After closing the physical gallery space in Darlinghurst, she is taking experience into exciting new areas. Rainbow on the Road lands in Byron Bay this month - a one-month pop-up featuring two exclusive exhibitions, including I Heart by Gelbell, the Melbourne duo whose work has been one of the standouts of the Sydney program.

And Wondering People is a London-based art platform founded by two women - Isabella Rothman and Soph Alice Merrell. It represents interesting across painting, photography, sculpture and mixed media - with a curatorial eye that’s sharp without being precious. Part of a new generation rethinking how art is accessed and collected, and doing it with real integrity.

The Fine Print

This week’s Fine Print is with the luminous Lizzie Mulherin. I met Lizzie at a panel I hosted last year and she was one of those people who immediately made an impression. When she shared what she was building, I was in.

A lifelong lover of words, Lizzie has bylines in Marie Claire, Cosmopolitan and HuffPost, and spent six years running a brand strategy business with clients like Mecca, Viktoria & Woods and Afterpay. Now she’s channelling all of it into something she couldn’t find anywhere else. The Solo Co is a community and education hub for women in the messy, exciting, overwhelming early days of starting a business - those building largely alone, without a roadmap.

The platform recently launched, with an app and intimate in-person events on the way. She also writes about culture, identity and the future of work over on her Substack, How We Live.

This week’s Fine Print is with the luminous Lizzie Mulherin. I met Lizzie at a panel I hosted last year and she was one of those people who immediately made an impression. When she shared what she was building, I was in.

A lifelong lover of words, Lizzie has bylines in Marie Claire, Cosmopolitan and HuffPost, and spent six years running a brand strategy business with clients like Mecca, Viktoria & Woods and Afterpay. Now she’s channelling all of it into something she couldn’t find anywhere else. The Solo Co is a community and education hub for women in the messy, exciting, overwhelming early days of starting a business - those building largely alone, without a roadmap.

The platform recently launched, with an app and intimate in-person events on the way. She also writes about culture, identity and the future of work over on her Substack, How We Live.

How are you feeling as you sit down to answer this?

Cosy and content! It’s a bright morning, I’ve got a vibey low-fi playlist going and coffee right beside me. No complaints!

How would you describe your current season of work?

I love this question, because I’ve recently realised just how seasonal work/life can be, and how beneficial it is to flow with (rather than fight) that. I’d call my current season of work transitionary. For the past six years, I’ve run an entirely service-based business as a brand strategist and freelance writer. Now, I’m building a community and education platform for women starting & growing businesses across all industries - which is something entirely new for me. There are many identity shifts (as well as practical shifts, of course) that come with it, so my way of work is under construction - which is fun, scary and expansive all at once.

What were you personally craving when you started building The Solo Co?

A high vibe, high value, and no-judgement space to learn and connect with women building businesses that truly fulfil them (however that may look) without sacrificing their health and well-being. In particular, I wanted to create something that serves women navigating those overwhelming early days and the messy middle solo - when self-doubt and not knowing what to focus on next are your biggest enemies.

While fantastic communities exist for founders aiming to grow and scale, I noticed a gap for those still establishing their businesses. These founders and freelancers may not necessarily want to hit 7 or 8 figures at all costs, but rather want to build something that supports and truly serves their lifestyle (without burning them out). We offer expert-led workshops, tools and resources on the strategic stuff (like accounting, marketing, legal etc) but also the health stuff (mindset experts, guided meditations, working with your cycle, etc.) - which, in my experience, is absolutely fundamental.

What’s one decision you’ve made recently that’s made your life noticeably easier?

To truly make peace with the process, release urgency and expectations around timelines before deeming something a ‘success’ (more on that below). In our climate of instant gratification, we’re sold this sexy story of immediate wins, but I’ve learned there’s a lot to be said for building something slow, steady and sustainable. I’m actually loving the long game!

What’s a rule you now live by that would have felt impossible five years ago?

Success is entirely subjective. We really do get to decide where our own goalposts sit and shoot our shots accordingly.

What’s a strength you value in yourself that you’ve learned needs balance?

I’m an ideas girl, and a dreamer. This can be a superpower when harnessed properly, but harnessing it is key - because an idea is only as good as its execution, and making dreams a reality requires practicality and action, sis!

What’s the first sign you’re overextended - and what’s the very first thing you change when you notice it?

I have a tendency to get very excited, which can quickly become wired and unproductive. To shift the energy, I separate from my phone (literally - remove it from reach) and focus on my body - either a walk in the sun, swim at Bronte, yoga or gym sesh or coffee with the girls. If it feels harder to budge, I love a sauna/cold plunge at The Bathouse in Bondi or a remedial massage.

What does having the right people around you actually unlock - in ways you maybe didn’t expect?

I feel incredibly lucky to be surrounded by *lots* of thriving women, who really epitomise reaching your potential and being who you’re meant to be in this life - both personally and professionally. Being around this energy exemplifies what’s possible when you ‘do the thing’, and also helps me believe that it is possible for me (and all of us!) too.

A year from now, what would you love to be able to say, “I’m really glad I did that”?

We’re about to launch The Solo Co app, and our first series of intimate in-person events in Sydney, Melbourne and Bris. If all of that goes off without a hitch, and we continue to help our growing membership base achieve their goals, I’ll be a happy gal.

What’s something you’ve read, watched or listened to recently that’s genuinely stayed with you?

Two oldies(ish) but goodies that I always recommend are Outliers by Malcolm Gladwell and Stolen Focus by Johann Hari. Currently, I’m reading Emma Grede’s Start With Yourself (which has stirred *so* many thoughts) and - because I’m a words person - More Than Words: How to Think About Writing in the age of AI by John Warner.

Who is a woman you’re cheering on right now - and why should our readers know about her too?

So many women doing amazing things! Anna Mackenzie - who is a business advisor and creator of Anna Mack’s Stack (also one of our Solo Co experts), Amy Dickinson - founder of The Social Summit who brings incredible humans into one room (also one of our interviewees) and Bella and Soph who just ran the first-ever podcast fan festival Dome Fest and absolutely smashed it.

What does being ‘in fine form’ look like for you?

Being healthy, energised, focused, creative, present with my loved ones and productive when it matters.

I’ve had a few months of really not feeling great. Life has felt stretched - across the professional and personal. Together, they’ve created a weight of responsibility pulling me in many directions at once and I’ve felt like I have been running very low on reserves.

I had dinner with friends on Friday. One of them texted the next day to check in - she said I’d seemed flat. My instinct, immediately, was to feel bad about it. That I must have been terrible company, the old inner critic saying hello. But I know what it actually was: someone who knows me well enough to notice when my energy isn’t reflective of who I usually am and who cares enough to say so. I was very grateful for that.

Building something that advocates for a better way of working brings its own particular pressure. When you’re the one saying slow down, protect your energy, this isn’t sustainable - and then you’re operating close to empty - there’s a very loud voice that calls you a fraud.

The truth is, the work we do on ourselves doesn’t make us immune. It gives us better tools, but when you’re depleted enough, the old patterns rear their head again unless you’re being actively, consciously careful. Which is hard to do when you’re also just trying to get through the week. I suspect a lot of people who care deeply about how they work - who’ve read the books, done the thinking, built the habits - still have flat periods like this.

Over the past year, I’ve also had to acknowledge that roughly half of every month, I feel pretty shit. The physical reality of an intense cycle deeply affects my mood, focus and resilience in ways that are very real and limiting. When external pressures are high and internal resources are already low, the gap between coping and not coping gets a lot narrower than it might look from the outside.

During these periods of intensity, I’ve noticed that two old companions came back that I thought I’d largely made my peace with.

Guilt. When I’m stretched, guilt becomes background radiation - constant, low-level, impossible to switch off. Guilt that I’m not present enough. That I’m not as productive as I know I can be when in flow. That I’m not showing up the way I want to for the people around me. What this guilt really reveals is the impossible standard I’ve set for myself: that I should be able to manage everything, all at once, without anything slipping. And that manifests itself as a fear of stopping, so I over-index myself even further.

Self-doubt. Close behind it, always. I start to question a lot of things about myself - my credibility, my intelligence, my capability, my right to be doing what I’m doing. And so as I work through my to-do-list, I’m also trying to ignore a very loud, buzzing, deeply-critical voice relentlessly trying to edge its way in.

Together, these create a hum underneath everything - a kind of ambient anxiety that makes it harder to think straight or feel settled. You can know, intellectually, that you’re doing your best in genuinely difficult circumstances and still feel it.

Notably, though, I haven’t been stressed about the work itself. What we’re delivering at Example, who we’re doing it with, what I’m building with Fine Form - it’s all deeply aligned. I’m genuinely proud and excited by it. This isn’t a crisis of direction.

What failed during this period was simpler and, in some ways, more frustrating: my habits.

When your ambition and your values are in sync, it can be easy to assume that’s enough - that the clarity of purpose will carry you through. It doesn’t. The routines, the boundaries, the small daily choices - these create the infrastructure that makes the work sustainable. And under enough pressure, I let them fall away.

For two months I had basically no proper switch-off. Fine Form, the business, packing boxes at night for a big house move, a seemingly never-ending list of life admin. I wasn’t giving myself a single moment just to stop. And as the tiredness crept in, I started working later, which meant I was finding it harder to fall asleep with a buzzing mind and struggling to get up in the morning - a spiral I know is really bad for me and still managed to sleepwalk into.

What helped most this week was something small my husband introduced: tomorrow starts tonight. A reset to make us more intentional about how we close the day, so we’re not just falling off the edge of it and hoping for the best the next morning. We’ve been doing a quiet reset together in the evenings, and it’s been remarkable how much it shifted the mindset of the following day - a small thing that pulled me back towards myself.

What I know I need most right now though more than any strategy or mantra is rest. Not the performance of it or a one-off lie in. Actual rest. I’ve committed to a very quiet Easter. Writing it here makes it more real as my impulse to ‘do’ is still very much lingering. If you’re in a similar stretch, maybe it’s worth doing the same - naming what you actually need and sharing it with those around you, rather than managing around it or pretending otherwise.

I’m sharing all of this here because the conversation I want to have has to make room for this. For the times when things just feel hard. Not as failure, not as evidence that the work doesn't work - but as part of the real picture.

What I’m Loving

Justine Cullen’s Substack, Late Night Snacking. Justine is the former editor of ELLE Australia and one of the sharpest, most instinctive voices in fashion and culture - and her Substack is exactly that translated into a weekly read. Smart, warm, deeply considered without ever being heavy.

I have a couple of bouquets from Sadele in my shopping cart and I’m dying to check out Composition in Surry Hills after falling in love with everything on the website.

Hospitality trade Australian Hotelier asked me to write something for International Women’s Day. I instantly knew what I wanted to talk about - the thing I hear from women all the time and rarely see given the space it deserves. The invisible load. The emotional weight we carry at work alongside everything else and then wonder why we have nothing left in the tank.

I’ve lived this and burned out from it. And rebuilding my relationship with work meant finally seeing the load for what it was – and learning to put some of it down. I’m sharing the full piece here.

For a long time, I thought my problem was simply workload. Too many priorities, too many plates spinning, not enough hours. So I’d get up earlier. Stay later. Push harder. But nothing really shifted because the thing draining me was never truly operational, even though that’s where it showed up. It was emotional.

I carry responsibility as an energetic weight – not just for the work, but for the people around me, their experience, their feelings, whether they’re alright. And I suspect a lot of women reading this know exactly what that feels like.

It wasn’t a sudden realisation. It had been building for years – a low hum I kept pushing down until it became impossible to ignore. And once I finally said it out loud, I couldn’t unsee it. The more I talked about it, the more I heard it reflected back. Across industries, at every level, the same thing: women’s nervous systems are running on empty because we feel responsible for everyone else’s experience.

The root of it

From a young age, most women are taught to be the good girl. Be kind. Be helpful. Don’t make a fuss. We’re conditioned to attune to other people’s emotions before we even have the language to describe our own.

We enter the workplace and those traits – empathy, emotional intelligence, collaboration – are praised as ‘soft skills’ but rarely treated as real work. We’re rewarded for smoothing things over, for being the one who “just gets it” and then penalised when the weight of it all starts to show. The result is a double bind: the very qualities that make women effective leaders are the ones that quietly burn them out.

When I think back to my own burnout, the core driver was a fear of disappointing people. Everything I did was driven by a belief that I needed to keep everyone happy to be good enough. Even when I started to unpick that pattern, I worried that without it, I wouldn’t be very good at my job. People-pleasing was my superpower and my curse, and I couldn’t separate the two. That fear is one of the most insidious parts of this cycle. And it’s everywhere.

Stefanie Sword-Williams, founder of F*ck Being Humble and author of Career Comedown, recently coined a term that captures this perfectly: Careout. In her Angry and Exhausted workplace guide, a collaboration with therapist Jaspreet Randhawa, she describes women who used to go above and beyond starting to pull back - not because they’ve lost ambition, but because the demands and emotional load are simply too much to carry.

So what actually needs to happen?

The conversation about the invisible load too often skips straight to self-help and never arrives at systemic change. If we’re serious about this, businesses have to do their part.

Recognise emotional labour as labour. If your organisation benefits from people who hold teams together, manage conflict and notice when someone is struggling, acknowledge that as skilled work. As Rose Hackman puts it in Emotional Labour, we need to stop treating empathy as a personality trait and start recognising it for what it is: skilled, essential and chronically undervalued work.

Audit who carries the load. Who organises social events? Who checks in on the new hire? Who mediates tensions and drafts the sensitive email? If the answer is disproportionately women, that’s a pattern that needs addressing.

Stop rewarding self-sacrifice. Many workplace cultures celebrate the person who absorbs everything. Leaders need to challenge that. Boundaries aren’t simply clocking off at 5pm - they’re about clarity, honesty and continual communication. They sound like “I can take this on, but not til next week,” or “I need to flag that I’m stretched.” Acknowledge the people who have those conversations and actively guide those who don’t yet feel they can without judgement or criticism.

Model it from the top. Your team won’t put anything down if they’ve never seen you do it. I spent years believing that being a good leader meant being visibly stressed and always available. It wasn’t. Be vocal about your own capacity. Culture isn’t set by policy, it’s set by behaviour and when emotional labour is only ever modelled as something women absorb in silence, that silence becomes the expectation.

Acknowledge the physical load, not just the emotional one. Every month, women silently manage pain, fatigue, hormonal shifts, the sheer energy it takes to show up. We’ve been conditioned to see it as something to manage privately, never mention it professionally and absolutely never let it show. So we paint on a smile and carry that too. That silence has a cost. Businesses that genuinely care about retaining women need to stop treating biology as a personal inconvenience and start treating it as a workplace reality.

And in the meantime – what can we do for ourselves?

I don’t think the answer is to stop caring. The answer is in recognising the load for what it is and choosing more deliberately what we pick up.

Take stock of what you’re actually carrying. Not your to-do list but the emotional weight. Who are you worrying about? What are you holding that isn’t yours to hold? I started writing it down – the things sitting heavy on my chest at the end of a day – and it was genuinely confronting how much of it had nothing to do with my ‘actual job’.

Stop trying to fix everything. This was a big one for me. If someone on my team was struggling, their problem immediately became mine to solve. But listening to someone is not the same as taking it on. More often than not, they just need space to articulate what’s going on in their own head and have someone alongside them while they get there.

Separate your identity from the load. You are not your usefulness to other people. For years, I thought that if everyone around me was okay, I was doing my job. If they weren’t, I’d completely and utterly failed. That is an impossible position to put yourself in. The shift started with a brutally simple question: if I removed everyone else’s feelings from the equation, how would I actually rate my own performance? The answer was usually far kinder than the one I’d been telling myself. Start there.

Get honest about people-pleasing. Ask yourself: Am I saying yes because I want to, or because I’m afraid of what happens if I don’t? People-pleasing is a deep-seated fear. It’s saying yes to protect the relationship, to avoid conflict, to keep being seen as the person who never lets anyone down. But every unchecked yes is a betrayal of your own capacity. You can be warm and empathetic without being endlessly available. The difference is choice and until you get honest about what’s driving yours, the load will keep growing.

Build a community around it. One of the most healing things I’ve experienced is being in a room full of women who get it. Not to solve it or fix each other, but to name it together – to hear someone say “me too” and feel the weight shift, even slightly. If you don’t have that space, create it. The conversation itself is a form of relief.

The invisible load isn’t going away overnight. It’s woven into how many of us were raised, how workplaces are structured and how society still defines “good” women and “good” leaders. But the more we talk about it – honestly, vulnerably, without trying to wrap it up in a neat bow – the more we give other women permission to put some of it down.

You don’t have to carry it all. And choosing not to doesn’t make you less. It might just be the thing that lets you stay in this industry and in leadership for the long haul.

What I’m Loving

I’m gobbling up Fashion Neurosis with Bella Freud. Bella invites guests to lie on an actual couch while she asks them about fashion, identity, love and anxiety. The format strips away the usual interview polish and what comes out is disarmingly intimate. I adored the chats with Nick and Susie Cave.

I’m also obsessed with Rixo’s SS26 collection, We Are One. Marking ten years of the brand, it’s a celebration of bold prints and vibrant colour. Perfect for a good dose of dopamine dressing.

The Fine Print

This week’s Fine Print is with Kirsten Scott is the Co-founder of Boa - Australia’s fastest-growing online networking platform for business owners.

Kirsten is warm, generous and utterly clear-eyed about what she’s building. She’s on a mission to change how Australian entrepreneurs connect - through local chapters, in-person events and a platform that makes networking something you’ll actually want to do.

What I love about Kirsten is her commitment to community. She genuinely cares about supporting founders, and especially women who are just starting out. Boa is a direct reflection of who she is: purposeful, inclusive and built for people with big ambitions.

Kirsten Scott is the Co-founder of Boa - Australia’s fastest-growing online networking platform for business owners. Warm, generous and extremely passionate about what she’s building, Kirsten is on a mission to reshape how Australian entrepreneurs connect - through local chapters, in-person events and a platform that actually makes networking something you look forward to.

What I love most about Kirsten is her commitment to community. She cares deeply about supporting founders, and especially women who are just starting out on their entrepreneurial journey. Boa is very much a reflection of who she is: purposeful, inclusive and built for people with big ambitions.

How are you feeling as you sit down to answer this?

Grateful, a little stretched, but in a good way. It’s one of those seasons where there’s a lot happening, but it all feels aligned - like I’m building something that really matters.

How would you describe your current season of work?

Intentional growth. We’re not just chasing momentum, we’re building depth, stronger community, better experiences, and more meaningful support for founders through Boa. It feels less frantic than earlier years and more focused.

What’s one decision you’ve made recently that’s made your life noticeably easier?

Leaning in fully, even when I don’t feel 100% ready. I’ve realised confidence comes from doing, not waiting. Imposter syndrome is real, but showing up anyway - in meetings, in conversations, on socials - has created more ease than overthinking ever did. The right people back you when you back yourself.

What’s a rule you now live by that would have felt impossible five years ago?

Rest is productive. Five years ago I believed slowing down meant falling behind. Now I know my best ideas and leadership come when I’m not running on empty.

What’s a strength you value in yourself that you’ve learned needs balance?

My ability to say yes and show up. It’s helped me build incredible relationships, but without boundaries it turns into overcommitment. I’ve learned that protecting my time protects my impact.

What’s the first sign you’re overextended - and what’s the very first thing you change when you notice it.

I can feel it in my sleep and my thoughts. I start running on empty, waking up in the night and constantly thinking about the future instead of being present. When that happens, I do something that feels counterproductive but always helps, I clear one afternoon of meetings. I use that time to reset, catch up properly, and focus only on my top three priorities. It gives me back a sense of control and calm.

A year from now, what would you love to be able to say, “I’m really glad I did that”?

I’d love to say I jumped in with both feet, showing up to more local meetups, havingreal in-person conversations, and learning deeply from our community across every state. I truly believe the magic happens face-to-face, not behind a screen. That kind of connection builds authenticity in a brand, and I’m excited to see the ripple effect of that 12 months from now as we continue to grow alongside our founders.

What’s something you’ve read, watched or listened to recently that’s genuinely stayed with you?

I listened to Emma Grede on The Diary Of A CEO and loved how direct she was about building with intention. She talked about knowing exactly who you’re building for and not getting distracted by noise or hype. It reminded me that as founders, our job isn’t to chase every opportunity, it’s to stay clear on our mission and serve our community really well.

Who is a woman you’re cheering on right now - and why should our readers know about her too?

This is such a hard one for me because I speak to founders all day, every day - and I’m constantly blown away by what women are building, often while juggling so much behind the scenes. If I had to share a few:

• Bella Moro from MyCavoodle - Bella built her brand from the ground up into one of Australia’s most recognisable names in the dog space. She’s proof that starting with a niche, a strong community, and real customer love can grow into something nationally impactful.

• Candice Feng from Miss Morning - Candice is building a fast-growing wellness brand that blends lifestyle, intention and business in a way that feels thoughtful and modern. She represents a new wave of founders who care just as much about how people feel as what they’re selling.

• Cat Ardi from The KNOW Skin - Cat is leading with education in the skincare space, helping people actually understand their skin rather than just pushing products. Her clarity of mission and focus on long-term trust over quick wins

  really stands out.

• Jess Whatman from Agent Sync - Jess is modernising how agents connect and work, building smart systems in an industry that’s ready for change. She’s one of those founders who combines strong commercial thinking with genuine care for her community.

• Cassandra Diamantis from Dream Big Marketing - Cassandra has built a respected marketing agency by focusing on strategy, substance and long- term brand building. She’s the kind of founder who grows alongside her clients, not just for them. And honestly, there are so many more. I feel incredibly lucky that my world is filled with women building ambitious, meaningful businesses - often while balancing family, life and everything in between. They might not always be the loudest in the room, but they are absolutely shaping the future of business.

What does being ‘in fine form’ look like for you?

I don’t believe we can have perfect life balance, but I believe in energy balance. Being in fine form means I have the energy to show up well, clarity in my mind, and connection to the people around me. It’s feeling excited about my work, but also a ease with myself, not constantly trying to prove anything.

It’s been an energetically charged week. A solar eclipse in Aquarius. Saturn and Neptune meeting at zero degrees Aries for the first time in 6,000 years - where structure meets imagination at what astrologers call the creator point. This means that we begin now carries real weight and we should be very intentional about our choices and commitments.

And of course, Lunar New Year, marking the Year of the Horse - bold, independent, expansive. It feels important to acknowledge that this is not a symbolic reset available for convenient borrowing. Its increasing adoption in Western contexts can, at times, flatten its cultural depth and significance - a tension thoughtfully explored by the ABC here and Alex Sujong Laughlin here.

But given how widely this has been covered in Western culture, it does feel that there is a shared sense that January 1st does not always feel like a true beginning and a search for a moment that actually does.

The Myth of the January Reset

I have consistently found January the hardest month of the year, because it asks something of us we’re rarely able to give.

Part of that is personal. I build confidence through action - through conversations, decisions, watching ideas shift from thought into form. Early January offers very little of that. There are plans and intentions, but not yet the tangible outcomes that generate real trust in yourself. And without that proof, the mind can begin to wobble.

Commercially, the month sits in a strange limbo. Budgets are still being finalised. Briefs are forming. Teams are returning in stages. When you run a business, that natural lag can quickly translate into anxiety and old insecurities resurface with surprising speed.

And then there is December’s residue - the final sprint to the finish line. We enter January more depleted than we often acknowledge. An engine requires time to warm, but we expect ourselves to perform at full capacity the moment the year turns.

This is exactly what makes right now feel quite different. The astrology is in our favour, the collective energy is real, and now feels like a far more honest moment to reflect, plan and set intention than January 1st did. So I have been doing exactly that.

Set your goals and align your behaviour

When planning for your future, I think it’s very easy to become very focused on setting goals and very poor at designing the days that might actually get us there. There are vision boards and five-year plans and word-of-the-year posts everywhere you look - and very little conversation about what a good Tuesday actually needs to feel like for any of it to be sustainable.

I think about this a lot in the context of running a business. The destination matters, but it is the daily texture - the rhythm, the energy, the small decisions about where your attention goes - that determines whether you arrive intact. Oliver Burkeman writes about this beautifully in Four Thousand Weeks: that our fixation on future goals keeps us in a permanent state of deferral, always living toward something rather than within something.

What I have found very useful is getting specific about what a good day actually looks like for me. Not in a rigid, optimised way, but in a honest one. What conditions help me think clearly? What drains me faster than I realise? Where does my best energy go, and is that where it should? When those questions are answered well, the bigger ambitions tend to take care of themselves. And this is someone who truly believes in the power of manifestation.

I think the whole goal setting this can feel quite overwhelming at times, so a few things that have genuinely helped me with all this:

• Anchor your plans in energy and alignment, not optics - I always preach the work of Roxie Nafousi and her books Manifest and Manifest Deeper - because she is positions manifestation as a self-development practice where goals are built by continually aligning your behaviour and getting very clear on your ‘why’. Vision boards are only the starting point. Similarly, I love entrepreneur Victoria Prew’s Annual Plan which is less about surface-level goal setting and more about knowing your niche, protecting you energy, getting clear on how you want to show up and what standards matter most. I adapted it into a development plan for my team and it shifted the quality of our conversations significantly.

• Use tools to help with clarity - One of the more practical tools I have come across recently was a prompt shared by Kate Weid, using AI to turn vague intentions into specific, actionable steps. It removes friction from decision-making and makes progress feel more accessible. And as someone who loves story-telling, I found the letter to your future self is a really beautiful exercise.

• Refine your baseline before expanding your ambition - If goal setting feels overwhelming, focus on your operating system first. Small, practical improvements- like automating reminders for key life admin or simplifying routines - can create a surprising amount of mental space. Anna Newton has the most exhaustive list of organisation tricks I’ve ever seen.

• Your Perfect Day Visualisation - I love Martha Beck's Perfect Day visualisation, which she shared on the Huberman Lab podcast. You simply close your eyes, and let your ideal day unfold in your mind with a genuine, unhurried sense of how you would actually want to move through a day if nothing were in the way. What you hear, what you feel, who you are with, how you spend your time. The details that surface tend to be very revealing - less about the big goals and more about the texture of an ordinary day done well. If you’re having trouble switching your brain off at night, this can be a lovely thing to focus on.

To end though, I do want to say - you can reset, plan and grow at any point you choose. The calendar does not determine your readiness. Growth doesn’t belong to when everyone else wants to do it - it might begin on your birthday with a new lap around the sun, the first day of spring, or some ordinary Tuesday that turns out to matter. The most important thing is that when the moment arrives, you actually let it.

What I’m Loving

Very little space exists for women to talk honestly about money without shame or fear of judgement. Which is why Process x So Invested’s four-part series Backbone on the financial foundations of building a business, side hustle or freelance career is so helpful. Grounded, practical and exactly the kind of conversation that should be happening far more often.

I loved Grace Beverley’s Working Hard episode with Shae O Omonijo about learning how to understand AI (without fear mongering), how it’s fuelling anti intellectualism, and what we can all individually do about it to use it in a more thoughtful way.

I am also diving into Erin Deering's Hanging By A Thread and I cannot put it down. Erin is the co-founder of Triangl, and her account of the series of breakdowns that ultimately forced her to walk away from a multi-million dollar business is one of the most refreshingly honest things I have read in a long time.

The Fine Print

This week’s Fine Print is with my gal, Stacey Saunders.

Stacey and I connected on Instagram when we were both gearing up to launch our respective podcasts and very shortly after found ourselves meeting for coffee - equally riddled with nerves about putting ourselves out there, equally in need of talking each other off a cliff. I fell in love with her immediately.

Stacey is one of those people who makes you feel genuinely seen from the get go - warm, deeply encouraging, fucking hilarious and instinctively generous with her trust and enthusiasm. All qualities I admire enormously.

Since then, Stacey launched her podcast - Badass Bitches in Brand - a refreshingly unfiltered exploration featuring women across branding, advertising and the creative industries. It dives into the bold decisions that shaped them, the mistakes that sharpened them and the very real stories in between. It’s smart, funny, deeply honest, and exactly the kind of conversation this industry needs more of.

I was so honoured to be invited on alongside the wonderfully warm Adelle Chang (who also writes the smart Substack Culture Codes) to talk about our evolving relationship with work and the shifts we’ve each made to redefine success on our own terms.

This week’s Fine Print is with my gal, Stacey Saunders.

Stacey and I connected on Instagram when we were both gearing up to launch our respective podcasts and very shortly after found ourselves meeting for coffee - equally riddled with nerves about putting ourselves out there, equally in need of talking each other off a cliff. I fell in love with her immediately.

Stacey is one of those people who makes you feel genuinely seen from the get go - warm, deeply encouraging, fucking hilarious and instinctively generous with her trust and enthusiasm. All qualities I admire enormously.

Since then, Stacey launched her podcast - Badass Bitches in Brand - a refreshingly unfiltered exploration featuring women across branding, advertising and the creative industries. It dives into the bold decisions that shaped them, the mistakes that sharpened them,and the very real stories in between. It’s smart, funny, deeply honest, and exactly the kind of conversation this industry needs more of.

I was so honoured to be invited on alongside the wonderfully warm Adelle Chang (who also writes the smart Substack Culture Codes) to talk about our evolving relationship with work and the shifts we’ve each made to redefine success on our own terms. A conversation full of candour, laughter and emotion, led by a woman who creates space for others so beautifully.

How are you feeling as you sit down to answer this?

Honestly, I’m in a food coma. I’ve just reached for a second bowl of spaghetti bolognese that I absolutely did not need, and now I’m complaining about it. Will I ever learn? Why are we like this? Absolutely not. My eyes will forever be bigger than my stomach and I know I’m not alone in this.

How would you describe your current season of work?

My current season is very much in the vision and planning zone at work for the year ahead. January is always a bit of a write-off in my brain - it’s like I’m still looking back at the year that was thinking, “WTF just happened?” The comedown from the December madness makes it hard to recalibrate when January hits, especially with the added pressure of “What are we doing this year?” however by February, though, I’m more focused and ready to go. Everything feels clearer, more grounded, and far less overwhelming.

What’s one decision you’ve made recently that’s made your life noticeably easier?

I’ve been trying to protect my energy more by saying no and doing less, so I can maintain my focus and headspace. It’s challenging because I’m naturally energised by people… but the downside is that often my battery often ends up completely empty.

Saying no and narrowing my focus has been especially hard as a lifelong people pleaser has been so hard to do….its almost like I’m swimming against a current for me in my mind, definitely one of the biggest personal challenges I’ve faced so far to unwire - but it’s been worth it.

I’ve also been making a conscious effort to reduce my screen time by using app blockers. I do miss my deep Reddit dives at night (yes, including the Erin Patterson mushroom trial), but better sleep has proven far more rewarding.

I’m becoming much more aware of my own time and energy, and of my need to be offline. Ultimately, this is about protecting my energy so I can show up as my truest, most present self when it really matters.

What’s a rule you now live by that would have felt impossible five years ago?

Maybe it’s taking things less personally, and being less reactive…

I’m much more comfortable just being myself now. I used to be incredibly hard on myself, but the older I get, the less I try to please everyone. People are always going to dislike something about someone - that’s out of your control.

What I’ve learned is that you can’t manage everyone’s perception of you. All you can do is show up as yourself and surround yourself with people who genuinely care about you, and reacting quickly to things or situations isn’t always the best way….so taking time to think before I speak or respond is something I am doing more now that i didn’t do 5 years ago!

What’s a strength you value in yourself that you’ve learned needs balance?

I’m a deeply empathetic person, so I naturally lead with my heart and my energy. When people I care about are going through something, I tend to take it on…. I feel it physically as much as emotionally. That’s been true for me my whole life.

In a work context, that sensitivity is often where I have been told I add the most value. Being able to genuinely feel and understand what others are experiencing allows me to support people in a meaningful way. At the same time, I’ve learned that this strength needs boundaries.

I’m actively learning when to lean in and when to step back, recognising that protecting my own energy is just as important. Creating those boundaries is still a work in progress, but it’s something I’m consciously focusing on as part of my growth.

What’s the first sign you’re overextended - and what’s the very first thing you change when you notice it?

I usually know I’m overwhelmed or heading toward burnout when I go quiet and find it hard to struggle to focus on solutions - it’s completely out of character for me. If I’m not talking, that’s a big red flag. When the overwhelm kicks in, my mind goes into overdrive, I go mute (people who know me well get alarmed when i am not over-talking every 5 mins haha) , and everything feels heavier than it should.

The positive is that I’ve learned to recognise those signs early, and I know what helps bring me back into balance. Spending time in nature, hanging with my fam, going for a walk, having a phone call with one of my girls or my nan that involves real laughter (especially hearing my nan laugh), or simply clearing a weekend in my diary to create space for myself all make a huge difference.

Quiet time, thinking in silence, weird simple things like chaotically culling my wardrobe or kitchen, being outdoors by the water or go on a long walk really help me reset and return to myself a little more!

A year from now, what would you love to be able to say, “I’m really glad I did that”?

I recently started a passion side project, and it’s been a big transition learning how to balance a busy full-time role with producing that outside of work.

For me, success a year from now would look like finding the right balance between those commitments, continuing to do work I genuinely love, while also protecting my personal life and energy so the project can remain sustainable, inspiring, fun and enjoyable.

What’s something you’ve read, watched or listened to recently that’s genuinely stayed with you?

I wish I could sound smart and deeply insightful here, but honestly - we need to shine a light on the power of listening to the same R&B playlist I’ve been listening to for the past 20+ years. It’s basically perfected my ability to recite the lyrics to some of the greatest rap verses of all time, and it’s become a form of therapy for me.

It gives me that same feeling we all get from rewatching the movies we loved as kids - familiar, comforting, and grounding.

More recently, I went to see Hamlet. I went in for Paul Mescal, having been a huge fan of Normal People, but I walked out completely blown away by the performance of the Jessie Buckley - I’ve never seen someone embody emotion through the screen like that - it was devastating and incredibly beautiful at the same time. I can’t stop thinking about it.

Alongside that, I’ve been reading Black Witness by Amy McQuire, which has been an interesting read on the media’s failures in reporting on Indigenous. It’s been confronting, necessary, and deeply impactful. Amy McQuire is incredible.

Who is a woman you’re cheering on right now - and why should our readers know about her too?

I’m looking at her 🙂 Hi Bec! You’re doing amazing, sweetie. Go you. What a gift you have been to me.

In all seriousness, I feel incredibly lucky to be surrounded by so many women who genuinely cheer me on. The relationships I have with the women I work alongside at Houston continue to lift me up every day - there’s a real culture of supporting and championing one another.

Beyond work, some of my closest friends are single mums running everything on their own. The juggle they manage every day is wildly tough, and I honestly wish I could give them everything they deserve. Their strength shines such a powerful light on love, resilience, and determination. They just amaze me and i know there are so many women out there just like them doing it all!

And then there’s my nan, who I mentioned earlier. At 83, she’s only just retired 2 years ago finally. When I asked her why she kept going for so long, she said it was because she loved what she did - though I know deep down she’s also a diva who wanted to keep buying herself nice things. And honestly? We should celebrate that more. Life is short.

What does being ‘in fine form’ look like for you?

A regular gym routine, feeling level-headed and present, laughing on the daily, and being genuinely available to give the people I love my full self, without distractions. And finally, carving out a little more time just for me would be noice :)

Hello,

It feels really lovely to have carved out this time to write each week and to have made that accountability public. I promised myself Friday mornings. It’s now edging toward midday, which is a familiar reminder of how easily a week expands if it isn’t actively contained. Still, the intention is set and that matters.

January passed in a blur, and somewhere within it I realised that my agency, Example, is nine years old. It feels like a lifetime and no time at all. Nine years of ambition and effort, risks taken and lessons learned, recalibration, momentum, missteps, excitement and growth layered steadily over time.

With that in mind, I wanted to share nine lessons that have shaped how I operate and lead today. They certainly aren’t universal truths or quick-fire growth formulas, and they’re not exhaustive either (I have about a thousand more), but they are a handful of principles that have helped me find greater professional resonance, particularly in the later chapters.

1. Define how you want your business to feel, not look.

In the early years of a business, external markers of success feel both motivating and deserved. You grit and graft. You say yes often. Momentum is rewarded and a test-as-you-go mindset is what gets things moving.

At a certain point, those same markers begin to mislead and distort what truly matters. Expectations accumulate, and more clients, bigger teams and expanding structures start to register as default progress rather than conscious choice. Headcount, in particular, becomes shorthand for success, reinforcing the assumption that more people automatically mean a stronger business, even as complexity increases and decision-making slows.

Some of the strongest work we have done since has come from staying deliberate at the core: a senior-led team, people working squarely within their strengths, supported by an inspiring network of collaborators. We have grown, evolved and expanded into a new country, something we never imagined would be possible, but the anchor shifted.

The focus moved toward energy, enjoyment and longevity. What does a good working week actually look like? How can we maintain our standard of excellence across everything we do? What pace can the business sustain without erosion over time?

The growth worth pursuing is the kind that makes those questions easy to answer and maintain. Growth that distorts them is what we’ve learned to avoid.

2. Businesses move in seasons - learn to work with them

There are moments in a business defined by speed and acceleration, where progress feels really electric. Those phases are energising and affirming, but you can’t sustain a relentless pace driven by adrenaline forever.

There are also periods of consolidation, where decisions are heavy and you feel like you’re trudging through mud. These chapters can take their toll, but they’re often where the most important lessons are formed and where judgment is sharpened.

And then there are the middle chapters - the stretches where the work is steady, progress is quiet and nothing particularly dramatic appears to be happening. These phases are deceptively challenging, because there’s no surge of momentum to lean on, yet drift still carries real consequences if you’re not paying close attention.

I didn’t always feel at ease moving through these cycles. What steadied me over time was learning to tune into what the moment was actually asking of me - accepting the nature of the chapter rather than forcing it, staying anchored to my why, and remaining open to what’s emerging rather than clinging to what has already passed. Businesses move in seasons and it’s important to respond clearly and deliberately to what’s in front of you.

3. A founder cannot simply step away, so you have to evolve

In a service business, early growth is usually driven by what the founder can personally deliver. The work largely revolves around your skills and talent, and how much you can hold at any given time.

As the business grows, that relationship shifts in ways that aren’t always obvious or comfortable. You spend less time in the work that brought the business to life and more time managing decisions, people and responsibilities you never trained for or actively chose. Because you’re structurally tied to what you’ve built, changing jobs isn’t a simple option - and if that tension goes unacknowledged, it often turns into frustration or resentment.

What helped me wasn’t trying to return to an earlier version of the work, but allowing my role to evolve alongside the business. Letting go of parts of the work I once identified with, leaning into where my judgment now mattered most and creating space beyond client work through writing and building Fine Form. Having a creative outlet removed from commercial outcomes has been a genuine circuit breaker, giving me perspective and renewed joy.

4. You do not need to prove yourself

As a business owner, it’s easy to feel as though you’re expected to have the answers - to know the most and to be the reference point for everyone around you. In the early years, that pressure fed a deep insecurity, I felt like I had to prove my competence rather than trusting it.

It also collided with my instinct to people-please. Wanting to be seen as fair, kind and reasonable, I softened positions, over-explained decisions and defaulted to diplomacy to avoid friction.

Letting go of all of that need was really liberating. It allowed me to tune into what I’m good at, accept what I’m not, and build a team with that clarity in mind. Strong agencies aren’t designed to depend on a single mind nor are they built through endless consensus. They work because judgment is distributed, responsibility is shared and expectations are clear.

5. Your nervous system is a business asset

Running a business puts you inside a constant pressure cooker - financial exposure, changing plans, unpredictable outcomes. For a long time, I let all of that run straight through me, reacting to whatever landed that day and carrying the weight of it in my body.

I thought managing stress meant moving faster and holding more, but that only handed my nervous system over to things I couldn’t actually control. The shift came from accepting that pressure isn’t optional, but reaction is - learning to slow my responses, create space before deciding and focus only on what was genuinely mine to change.

The pressure didn’t necessarily ease, but fewer things felt like emergencies. My energy stopped leaking everywhere and decisions became clearer and more measured, even when the stakes were high. Calm, I’ve learned, is an active and disciplined choice - one that compounds over time.

6. Simplicity scales better than complexity

As a business grows, there’s constant pressure to add more - processes, meetings and contingency plans. Complexity often presents itself as sophistication, but it rarely delivers the progress it promises.

When systems become tangled, frustration tends to surface between people. Too many moving parts make it harder to do good work consistently and energy gets spent managing the machine rather than doing the work.

Some of the biggest unlocks at Example have come from stripping back to the clearest promise, the cleanest product and the fewest elements required to deliver it well. Simplicity creates speed, clarity creates momentum - and it makes the work far more enjoyable.

7. Financial discipline creates freedom

I’ve learned that revenue is a poor proxy for security. It can look impressive on the surface, but it has very little to do with how a business actually feels to run. Cash flow is what determines whether you’re calm or constantly bracing, whether decisions are made from choice or from fear.

In the early days, I remember telling myself that finance wasn’t really my thing. I felt overwhelmed by it, so I kept a certain distance. Over time, I learned that while you don’t need to manage every detail yourself, you do have a responsibility to understand how the system works and how money moves through the business.

People often ask me for advice here and it’s really simple. Map your cash flow properly. Separate your accounts so you know what’s allocated, what’s committed and what’s actually available. Be clear on what you can afford, when you can afford it, and which investments genuinely support the business versus those driven by ego or urgency.

For me, consistent financial discipline has been one of the biggest contributors to ease and enjoyment in the work. A kind of liberation that doesn’t come from scale, but simply knowing where you stand.

8. Choose your co-founder wisely

Starting a business with someone is a huge thing to do, yet it’s often entered into with far less scrutiny than it deserves. Early chemistry and shared excitement matter - and they’re often what get things moving - but they don’t sustain a partnership once time, pressure and responsibility begin to test it.

Money introduces tension. Growth reshapes roles and dynamics. Change is constant, and risk is always present. And like marriage, strong business partnerships aren’t defined by the absence of friction - that’s an impossible standard - but by how friction is handled: clarity in decision-making, respect for difference and the ability to have difficult conversations from a place of love and trust.

They also require allowing both the partnership and the individuals within it to evolve with time. You move through big things together - uncertainty and excitement, growth and loss, joy and grief - and staying connected at the core is what allows the partnership to endure through all of it. Love you, Andy.

9. Your business is not you

Looking back on the early years of Example, I can see how tightly my identity was bound to the business. It wasn’t just something I ran - it felt inseparable from who I was, and over time that became extremely destabilising for my sense of worth.

What I learned, slowly and sometimes painfully, is that a business is an expression of you, but it is not you. Creating that separation has been essential in reclaiming both perspective and joy in the work.

Today, I’m far more interested now in what sustains than what impresses, and in building something that can continue to evolve without requiring me to disappear inside it. After nine years, that feels like a good place to be - and a good place to keep going from.

What I’m Loving

I absolutely adored Ocean Vuong on The Mel Robbins Podcast, as recommended by the brilliant Grace Toombs. The conversation is tender but precise: a spectacular discussion about ambition, survival and softness.

Ocean reminds us that becoming yourself isn’t about constant optimisation, but about honesty, patience and care. Listening felt like being gently slowed down, which I didn’t realise how much I needed.

I also loved After Work Drinks and the quick chat on what success actually means when discussing Jonathan Anderson for Dior - reimagining it not as one big moment, but as longevity. (Side note: Grace O’Neill’s other podcast with Kate Lancaster, Goodbye Kyle, where they analyse the beautiful chaos that is RHOSLC and RHOBH, is legit my happy place).

And finally, Fine Form Series 1 guest and Substack queen Zara Wong dives into her relationship with ambition with an important reminder you can’t self-actualise through work. Her writing - and the articles and podcasts she references around it - feels like a necessary circuit-breaker to hustle culture and her perspective is thoughtful and clear, as always.

The Fine Print

This week’s Fine Print is with the spectacular Kriti Gupta - journalist, culture strategist and self-described terminally online expert working at the intersection of storytelling, advocacy and the internet.

Kriti and I met last year over a lunch I hosted for women working in brand with my friend Stacey Saunders at Otto. I’m in awe of the way she thinks - her ability to move effortlessly from big cultural questions to the everyday realities of constant connectivity, modern dating, and yes, even the Beckham discourse - always with clarity and insight.

She’s now building In My Head, a youth-led media and advocacy platform exploring mental health, power and culture. The work is designed to help people better understand the systems they’re moving through, and to connect them with practical, meaningful support.

Kriti is an absolute force, and her work feels like the beginning of something that will matter for a long time.

This week’s Fine Print is with the spectacular Kriti Gupta - journalist, culture strategist and self-described terminally online expert working at the intersection of storytelling, advocacy and the internet.

Kriti and I met last year over a lunch I hosted for women working in brand with my friend Stacey Saunders at Otto. I’m in awe of the way she thinks - her ability to move effortlessly from big cultural questions to the everyday realities of constant connectivity, modern dating, and yes, even the Beckham discourse - always with clarity, humour and insight.

She’s now building In My Head, a youth-led media and advocacy platform exploring mental health, power and culture. The work is designed to help people better understand the systems they’re moving through, and to connect them with practical, meaningful support.

Kriti is an absolute force, and her work feels like the beginning of something that will matter for a long time.

How are you feeling as you sit down to answer this?

Excited, cause I love the work that you do and the spaces that you foster.

How would you describe your current season of work?

January is always so interesting because, as a solopreneur/freelancer, it is always a bit of a lull as the year kicks off and no matter how many times you’ve been through it, and know that it gets better, it feels like what if this is the year that the rug gets pulled out from under you.

What’s one decision you’ve made recently that’s made your life noticeably easier?

Going for a thirty-minute walk each morning without my phone or headphones or anything, and simply just engaging with the world around me. Just my keys, physical card and a film camera if I so happen to want to take a photo of something. I find I’m a lot more positive about life when I interact with a stranger first thing in the morning and simply say hello.

What’s a rule you now live by that would have felt impossible five years ago?

Take the time off, work will come back, and everything else will follow. A week away from your emails is not going to ruin your career; in fact, it might save it.

What’s a strength you value in yourself that you’ve learned needs balance?

My biggest strength is my ability to be so online and engaged for my clients. I truly love the field and space I’ve created for myself, but at the same time, I need to balance that with love for myself and give the same level of care and attention to life outside of my career, which I feel I finally do so.

What’s the first sign you’re overextended - and what’s the very first thing you change when you notice it?

The first sign is always this pain in my chest and my head, and this fear that if I put away my screen, whether it be my laptop or phone, then the sky will come falling down. I notice I feel antsy and trapped in my own thoughts, and I lash out at the universe, even. What gets me out of that is going to the sauna or the bathhouse; it is a grounding, safe space for me.

A year from now, what would you love to be able to say, “I’m really glad I did that”?

A year from now, I hope I’m having a conversation with you around ‘In My Head’ being fully operational with both its media and charity arm, and it not being just a team of two. I do not see the idea of success as something for just myself; it’s only ever felt good when it has an impact on others, no matter how small.

What’s something you’ve read, watched or listened to recently that’s genuinely stayed with you?

“If you’re going through hell, you gotta just keep going because why on earth would you stop in hell?!”

Who is a woman you’re cheering on right now - and why should our readers know about her too?

Sita Sargeant, we’ve never met in person; we’re just mutuals who support one another in the digital world, but Sita has made it her mission to set the record straight around the role that women have made throughout time through ‘She Shapes History’, pointing out that the lack of recognition we face is what fuels the respect gap at the heart of gender inequality.

What does being ‘in fine form’ look like for you?

Contentment, the more I heal, the less ambitious I feel I become, and that’s not to say that I don’t have hunger or drive to build in this life, but I truly believe being ‘in fine form’ means that you’ve gotten rid of that ill-advised, petty, mean girl hunger that unfortunately does arise when you’re naive and starting out.

The very first Fine Print is with Mufaro Mutowembwa, a strategist, content creator and co-founder of Rolodex - a media startup translating business to culture, and culture back to business.

I came across Mufaro when an article she’d written for Rolodex Media began circulating on LinkedIn. Make Australia Ambitious Again offers a sharp, clear-eyed look at why ambitious Australians are leaving - and what it would take, culturally and economically, to make staying the smarter choice.

It compelled me to reach out and suggest a coffee. And gosh, did her face light up with excitement, energy and conviction in what she’s building with her co-founder Jade Conner. She’s smart, driven and loves a glam restaurant moment as much as I do.

How are you feeling as you sit down to answer this?

Optimistic and energised. It’s the start of a new year, and after spending the past month travelling with family and easing back into routine, I can’t stop thinking about the possibilities ahead for both myself and Rolodex.

How would you describe your current season of work?

This season is about doubling down. The past six months were spent laying foundations; now it’s time to build with more discipline and intention. I’m focused on depth over noise which to me means fewer projects, better execution and work that compounds rather than burns me out. It feels grown-up, deliberate and long-term.

What’s one decision you’ve made recently that’s made your life noticeably easier?

Saying no - often and early. I’ve become far more ruthless about what not to do, and I’ve stopped saying yes to things that look good on paper but don’t truly move the needle. The payoff has been immediate: more clarity, more energy, better work.

What’s a rule you now live by that would have felt impossible five years ago?

I trust my judgement more than external validation. I no longer need immediate feedback or reassurance to keep moving forward. Five years ago, that level of self-trust felt out of reach.

What’s a strength you value in yourself that you’ve learned needs balance?

Ambition. It’s a gift, but unchecked it can tip into restlessness. I’ve learned that ambition paired with patience is far more powerful than ambition fuelled by anxiety - a lesson I’m still actively learning.

What’s the first sign you’re overextended and what’s the very first thing you change when you notice it?

I lose my appetite for reading, that’s always the tell. When that happens, I audit my calendar, pull out a notebook and reset with a clear, prioritised to-do list.

A year from now, what would you love to be able to say, “I’m really glad I did that”?

That I built something with real substance, not just visibility. Something that created opportunity for others and proved I can play the long game well.

What’s something you’ve read, watched or listened to recently that’s genuinely stayed with you?

Poor Charlie’s Almanack. It’s an important reminder that clarity of thought, patience and good judgement matter far more than speed or hype - especially when you’re thinking in decades, not quarters.

Who is a woman you’re cheering on right now and why should our readers know about her too?

Jade Conner, my co-founder at Rolodex. She brings rigour, taste and what we like to call ‘maniac on a mission’ type thinking into spaces that often reward loudness over substance. Watching her build and getting to work alongside her is one of the great privileges of my career.

What does being “in fine form” look like for you?

Clear thinking, strong boundaries, and enough margin in my life to think creatively. Calm, well-read, well-rested and deeply aligned with what comes next.

I started Fine Form because I was doing a lot of reflective writing. Not for an audience or with an outcome in mind, but simply to make sense of my own thinking - about work, ambition, energy, the stories I’d been telling myself, the lessons I’d learned and what I actually believed in.

I found that writing to be both cathartic and empowering. It was a way of orienting myself, of noticing patterns and naming things before they slipped past me. It gave shape to ideas that might otherwise have remained vague or overwhelming.

Then Fine Form became a podcast and I was quickly swept up in the administration of it all - the scheduling, coordination, production, the steady accumulation of small but mentally taxing and quite frankly boring tasks that drain you over time. Don’t get me wrong, I loved creating it (definitely learned a lot about what I could make easier next time!), but in the process, the writing fell away under the weight of mental load.

I’d been thinking about starting a Substack last year, but it felt like one more thing on an already full plate. Ironically, the habit that helps me think most clearly was the first to go - as is so often the case.

I know myself well enough to know that I’m at my clearest when I’m accountable to a commitment I’ve made out loud. So I decided to mention it in the final episode of the series, knowing that once it was out there, I’d be pretty hard on myself if I didn’t actually follow through.

But once I did that, the excitement was quickly overtaken by fear. The Substack in my head became bigger than Ben Hur, and over the break I found myself catastrophising how I was going to pull it off. I felt overwhelmed by the prospect of doing it, and yet, paradoxically, I couldn’t stop generating ideas. One idea became five, then ten. I turned them over endlessly, enumerating them, refining them, shaping them in theory - all before I ever opened my laptop to write anything down.

The thinking grew loud and crowded. So, of course, I did what many of us do when we’re stuck: I looked sideways.

I started reading other Substacks for inspiration. I admired their clarity and confidence, and before I knew it, that familiar little doubt started creeping in. Because I wasn’t actually working on my own, it became very easy to convince myself that whatever I might write wouldn’t quite measure up. I felt plagued with worry that I didn’t have a strong enough point of view or anything particularly original to say. Who needs another Substack anyway?

Before I’d written a single article, I was already questioning why I was doing this at all. Proof that there can be such an erosion of confidence that happens when ideas stay trapped in your head for too long. Rumination can feel like you’re doing something, but more often than not, it’s just a holding pattern - and a real energetic blocker - that keeps you getting something off the ground.

So last week, I decided to just start the goddamn thing. I opened a Google Doc and began writing through a handful of angles without necessarily having a clear point of view on each yet. I just gave the ideas somewhere to go. I set myself a short, non-negotiable deadline for when the first issue would go out - a cue from the stars, which I’ll touch on in the next section - and in doing so, forced my own hand.

Almost immediately, the enjoyment returned. Writing started to feel achievable again. It was fun. I was reminded me how much I actually enjoy the act of it.

I also got clear on what had really been holding me back: a fear of contradiction. If Fine Form is about clearing the decks and working with more intention, wasn’t adding something else just going to feel like extra weight? Another thing to juggle. Hardly very Fine Form of me!

What I eventually realised was that I’d built it up to be something far bigger than it needed to be. The pressure lived in the story I was telling myself - that there were rules to follow, expectations to meet and a certain standard it had to reach to be worthwhile.

Minimal Viable Posting

A framework that really helped me untangle this came from the brilliant Tim Duggan’s idea of Minimal Viable Posting. At its core, it’s about:

1. Choosing a communication channel that suits you

2. Committing to the lightest possible cadence - one that feels extremely achievable so you have no option but to stick to it

3. Scheduling a reoccurring calendar event for your MVP. Add a reminder so you have a little bit time before your posting to think about and write it.

For the Fine Form Substack, that decision was fortnightly, three social posts per fortnight, and writing would happen on Friday mornings.

Traditionally, Friday mornings have been my buffer - the time where the week spills over and those lingering tasks you haven’t taken action on can be ticked off the list - but it was something that I had been actively trying to change. By choosing to write then, I’m deliberately removing that safety net. It means I need real discipline around the most important work during the week, rather than letting it be endlessly deferred. It introduces structure to my week, but it also makes the writing feel less like an indulgence and more like a consistent, protected practice. I’ll let you know how it goes as I settle into it.

This Substack isn’t meant to be decisive thought leadership with hardline opinions. I’m not necessarily wired that way. It’s just a place for ramblings, patterns, frameworks, habits, lessons and small things that are proving useful along the way.

Running a business has a way of holding a mirror up - there aren’t many places to hide and your defaults show up quickly. Ultimately, this is my way of staying honest with myself and creating a steady, familiar place to write and reflect as the year unfolds.

What I’m Loving

A couple of years ago, I booked a session with Debbie Frank. I’d always been curious about astrology, but what struck me most was how grounded and pragmatic her approach was. She talked me through who I was based purely on my birth chart (Aquarian Sun, Virgo Moon, Aries Rising for those playing along - spine-tingling accurate) and offered a lot of cosmic clarity around a period of personal upheaval I’d been moving through but hadn’t fully made sense of yet.

Since then, her work has given me a useful framework for thinking about timing - when to push, when to pause and when to trust and accept, as well as the importance of fully owning what is ours, and only ours, to shape. Her latest book, Manifesting with Astrology, builds on this beautifully, and reading it gave me the nudge I needed to finally launch this Substack rather than continue circling the idea.

After giving myself the space to rest and recuperate earlier in the month, I launched this week - beginning with a new moon (a chance to reset your intentions), at the start of Aquarius season, during a rare cluster of planetary activity that heralds internal ignition: ideas clicking into place, confidence returning.

Astrology is often waved off as woo-woo, which is, IMHO, pretty egotistical. The idea that we as mere humans can somehow resist the energies that shape the natural world is wild to me. I love pragmatism and action, and there’s no hippy-dippy waffle here - just smart, simple, practical guidance about working with planetary movements and lunar cycles to create a life that lights you up. Yes please.

You can hear more about Debbie’s approach as she chats to Manifest Queen and my ultimate girl crush Roxie Nafousi here

The Fine Print

Our first Fine Print - quick chats with women I admire - is with Mufaro Mutowembwa, a strategist, content creator and co-founder of Rolodex - a media startup translating business to culture, and culture back to business.

I came across Mufaro when an article she’d written for Rolodex began circulating on LinkedIn. Make Australia Ambitious Again offers a sharp, clear-eyed look at why ambitious Australians are leaving - and what it would take, culturally and economically, to make staying the smarter choice.

It compelled me to reach out and suggest a coffee. And gosh, did her face light up as she spoke about what she’s building with her co-founder, Jade Conner. Mufaro is smart, driven and loves a glam restaurant moment as much as I do.

With love,

Rebecca x

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