Let's Talk Real Life: When Living The Dream Becomes A Walking Nightmare

I never thought I’d be here…

I always thought living the dream would feel... well, dreamy.
But here I am, years into building a brand I love with everything in me—and I’m tired.
Like bone-deep, soul-shaking tired.

At this point in life, the very dream that once lit up my world and brought me out of my darkest place is starting to flicker. The same vision that fuelled my passion for years now feels like it’s slipping through my fingers.

I recently moved out of my studio space—the one that birthed this current version of MOLLY. 
That space was home to me. My second skin. For five whole years.
I grew in there. Created in there. Shed tears and celebrated wins in there.
It saw me through every phase of this wild journey—from hand-making special pairs to major fashion shows and evolving into clothing designs. 

It was huge, definitely a step up from where I started– in my bedroom, and honestly, a major blessing in my life. But recently... it started to feel more like a burden.
The weight of my investment started to outweigh the return, and one day, I sat down to run the numbers—and found myself staring at a figure just a few thousands shy of a quarter million dollars.

A quarter. Million. Dollars.
And the return? Incomparable. 
Let that sink in...

It’s not just frustrating. It’s heartbreaking. And it’s gutting.
It’s every synonym for “defeated” you can think of, but honestly, it’s also the reality that so many creatives quietly carry. To pour your money, your energy, your whole being into something. To share yourself with the world—and still feel like you're not doing enough.

I started to feel like my business was a dark hole, constantly swallowing my energy and my strength. Chipping away at my motivation and my drive. So when I packed up and left the studio, it made sense logically. But emotionally? It felt like I was abandoning my baby.
Like maybe the universe was confirming the thing I’d been afraid to say out loud:
What if this is the end?

And I won’t sugarcoat it: I wish I could say I’m powering through. I’m not.
I’m confused, I’m drained, and I’m grieving something I’m not even sure is gone yet.
I feel more lost now than I’ve ever felt before, and I don’t know what direction to take.

And the hardest part? I know I created something rare and amazing—
Interchangeable shoes that evolve and excite;
Designs that are bold, breathtaking, and unlike anything else out there;
Footwear that morphs according to your style;
Statement luxury pieces that challenge what footwear can be.
I made collectible pieces... wearable art.
But sometimes… it feels like I’m the only one in the gallery who sees the value.

Yes, people comment. People applaud. They wow over the editorial shoots, the runway shows, the glossy IG posts, the Vogue, Elle, Harper’s Bazaar features, the celebrity placements. But if it’s not converting into consistent sales—if the love doesn’t translate into livelihood—what’s the point?

As an entrepreneur in this era, you have to be the creative and the operations team and the marketing strategist and the influencer... but I'm yet to hack all of these without the occasional burnout. Nonetheless, it seems it's either get with the program or get left behind.

And sure, I’ve done my fair share of influencer marketing and sent out PR packages to celebrity stylists, but more often than not, it feels like a trap. Like I’m paying to be ignored.
One celebrity I adored created an amazing reel showcasing every little detail and the playful nature of my interchangeable shoes, wore them on different occasions, for different shoots—but not a single tag to this day. Millions of followers. No credit. No referral. Nothing.

Lately, I find myself turning down opportunities that younger me would’ve screamed for—dream gigs, big press, moments that once felt like the pinnacle—because everything comes with a price tag. And experience has taught me that press doesn’t always equal profit. Hype doesn’t pay bills.

I’ve thought about hitting pause– toyed with the idea of stepping away altogether. But each time I'm reminded about how far I’ve come, how much I’ve built, how MOLLY has become a name that’s respected, admired, even celebrated...

I’m stuck between a dream that's costing me everything… and a reality that demands even more.
It feels like I’m on this tightrope between burnout and breakthrough, and I don’t know which side I’ll fall on.

So yeah... from the outside it looks glamorous. It looks like I’m living the dream.
But behind the scenes? It’s lonely. It’s painful. It’s quiet torture— A constant tug-of-war between hope and heartbreak.

I’m beyond grateful for my support system because they’ve carried me through more than they know. But still…

The Question That Haunts Me

When living the dream becomes a walking nightmare, it’s hard not to wonder if letting go is the only way to finally come up for air and breathe again.

Until next time,
Molly