From Solo Founder to Supporter: Lessons Learned Over 15 Years

15 Years On: What Starting My Own Business Taught Me About Grit, Growth, and Getting Help

Fifteen years ago, I took a leap that many dream about: I started my own business. No handbook. No team. No mentor on speed dial, just an idea, a lot of energy, and a stubborn belief that I could figure it out.

It was exciting. It was exhausting. And more than once, it felt like I was in way over my head.

Fast forward to now, and I find myself supporting entrepreneurs and innovators at Hethel Innovation, people right at the start of that same journey. While the landscape has changed (hello, social media and cloud accounting), many of the challenges haven’t.

Here are the lessons I learned the hard way, and the ones I wish someone had told me back then.

Clarity Beats Complexity

In the early days, I thought more offerings meant more opportunities. I tried to be everything to everyone. But I quickly learned that a good idea alone doesn’t make a business, it takes clarity about who you’re serving and how you create value for them. Without that, even the best ideas stay just that: ideas.

Eventually, I realised that clarity is powerful. Knowing exactly what you do, who it’s for, and why it matters makes every decision easier, from your website to your pricing to who you say no to.

If you can’t explain your business in one sentence, start there. (And if that sentence needs a comma, it’s probably too long.)

Ask yourself: Is my business clear enough that someone else could explain it for me?

You Can’t Do It Alone (Even If You Think You Can)

Like many founders, I wore all the hats, sales, delivery, finance, admin, marketing. I believed that doing it all myself was just part of the job.

I was always busy creating product, pushing myself to the limit. I took on every order I possibly could, even if it meant no sleep and 7-day weeks. The business was my whole world, and I was exhausted.

I was really bad at factoring in my time as a cost. Often, I was effectively working for less than minimum wage because I didn’t properly value the hours I put in. And I’m not alone, so many early-stage founders fall into this trap. If you don’t build your time into your pricing or production planning, you’re building a business that can’t scale, because you’re anchoring it to burnout.

And it wasn’t just about the hours, it was the pressure. The pressure to make enough to feed yourself, to pay the bills, to keep a roof over your head. That level of stress isn’t just tiring, it clouds your thinking. It makes you reactive instead of strategic, and it turns survival into your only goal.

I didn’t really understand what scaling meant at first. Growth felt like “more orders” and “more work,” but I didn’t yet grasp the difference between growing and scaling. Scaling means creating systems that work without you doing everything. It means stepping back to ask: How can this run better, faster, or smarter, with help?

Eventually, I made mistakes I wouldn’t normally make. I missed a large & important delivery deadline because a client had listed the correct date in the subject line, but a different one in the body of the email. Normally, I would’ve double-checked. But I didn’t have the headspace. I was running on empty.

Looking back, I wish I’d hired someone sooner, even part-time. Not just to lighten the load, but to bring in fresh thinking and help the business grow faster. Trying to do it all delayed my progress and drained my energy.

You don’t need to wait until everything’s perfect to get help. Even a few hours of support a week can make a real difference. Delegating doesn’t just save time, it gives you space to think, recover, and lead.

Ask yourself: Is saving money costing me something more important, like time, growth, or peace of mind?

Cash Flow Isn’t Boring. It’s Survival

It took exactly one late invoice to realise how quickly things can unravel. You can be winning work and still be in trouble if the money doesn’t come in when you need it.

That one invoice meant being able to buy supplies for the next week’s orders, or not. My finances were often on a knife edge. I’d be chasing payments not for profit, but so I could keep production going. That kind of pressure makes every delay feel personal and every small mistake feel enormous.

What made it worse was how hard it was to keep chasing. It’s draining. You’re constantly following up, being fobbed off, or hearing “It’ll be paid by Friday”… and then Friday comes and goes. You end up second-guessing yourself: Do I push harder? Do I wait? Will I lose this client if I chase again? It’s stressful, and frankly, it’s not what you started a business to do.

So what can you do?

Set clear payment terms up front and restate them clearly on every invoice.

Automate reminders where possible to take some of the emotion out of chasing.

Request deposits or part-payments for large or custom orders.

And if someone is consistently late? Think hard about whether they’re worth it. A good customer pays on time.

Understanding cash flow, what’s coming in, what’s going out, and when, isn’t just good practice. It’s how you stay alive. I’ve always loved Excel and am known for having a spreadsheet for everything, even personal stuff! So, cash flow tracking quickly became my secret weapon.

And it doesn’t have to be fancy or complicated, just a simple way to keep an eye on the numbers, check regularly, chase invoices early, and keep a buffer when possible.

Ask yourself: Do I know my numbers well enough to make confident decisions next month?

Marketing Matters More Than You Think

I used to think that if I just did good work, people would find me. Spoiler: they didn’t.

Marketing isn’t just about selling. It’s about visibility, trust, and connection. The best work in the world doesn’t matter if no one knows about it.

I was lucky that one of my closest friends was able to help me with logos and branding early on, without that, I honestly don’t know where I’d have started. But even with great visuals, I was always on the back foot with content. I was so busy creating product that marketing became a second thought. I was often too tired to even take photos of finished work.

Start simple: share your story, show what you’re working on, and be consistent. People don’t buy services, they buy into people they trust.

And no, posting once every six months and then vanishing into the void doesn’t count as a content strategy (I tried).

Ask yourself: If a potential customer searched for you today, what would they find?

There’s No Perfect Time, Start Anyway

Looking back, I can see how much time I wasted waiting to be “ready.” Truth is, you’ll never feel 100% ready and that’s okay.

The first version won’t be perfect. That’s not a failure; that’s progress. You learn by doing, not by endlessly preparing behind the scenes. Launch something, get feedback, improve.

Imperfect action beats perfect planning every time. And honestly, the only person who notices your “not quite right” logo or outdated font is you. Promise.

Ask yourself: What am I waiting for and is that delay helping or holding me back?

Finding My Feet (and Learning When to Let Go)

After a few hard won years of trial and error, something started to shift. I found my rhythm. I refined my offer, grew a loyal customer base, and began to get regular, repeat business. For the first time, it felt like things were working with me, not against me.

I had enough advance orders in the diary to see at least six months ahead, not just a couple of months. That visibility changed everything. I could plan better, buy smarter, and finally justify what had once felt impossible: hiring someone full time.

Planning to bring someone on board wasn’t just a business milestone, it was a lifeline. It would give me breathing space, help me serve customers better, and prove that the business could grow beyond me.

And then COVID hit.

Overnight, the steady pipeline I’d worked so hard to build vanished. Events were cancelled, supply chains stalled, and uncertainty replaced every plan we had.

My reality? I had to mothball the business and find work elsewhere to stay afloat. It wasn’t a decision I took lightly, but it was the right one at the time. I told myself it was temporary, that I’d pick things back up when the dust settled.

But life had other plans. A new opportunity came along one I couldn’t ignore. It took me to the other end of the country, and with that move came a hard but honest realisation: it was time to close the business for good.

Letting go wasn’t failure. It was the result of adapting, of recognising when a chapter has run its course, and having the courage to start a new one. That decision paved the way for what came next and opened doors I hadn’t even imagined yet.

Ask yourself: Am I holding on out of habit, or is it truly still serving me?

So, What Would I Tell My Younger Self?

Honestly? You’re going to mess up sometimes. That’s part of it. You’ll also get tired, doubt yourself, and feel like you’re in it alone. But you’ll learn, adapt, and grow faster than you think.

Stay curious. Ask for help sooner. Be kind to yourself when the hours get long, and don’t forget to lift your head now and then to see how far you’ve come.

When I joined Hethel Innovation three years ago, first as Centre Manager at Broadland Food Innovation Centre, it felt like coming full circle. My background meant I understood the grit, hustle, and passion that food and drink businesses bring every day. I’d been in their shoes. I knew the challenges, and I’d lived the pressure of trying to make a business work on your own.

Supporting those entrepreneurs felt like second nature, because I truly believed in their potential. My love for food, combined with my experience of building a business from the ground up, gave me a real drive to help others grow.

Now, as Innovation Manager, that mission has only deepened. I’m not just supporting food businesses, I’m working across sectors, helping ambitious founders turn ideas into action, and connecting them to the tools and networks I wish I’d had 15 years ago.

Back then, I didn’t know that support like this even existed. If I had, I would’ve signed up in a heartbeat. That’s why I care so much about what we do here, because if we can make even one founder’s journey easier than mine was, that’s a win.