Nobody Warns You About Creative Postpartum

Scrolling through my feed the other day, I won’t say I was doomscrolling in that moment, but if that’s what you want to believe, then fine. Don’t judge! I was on a break from productivity, I promise.

Anyway, I came across this video, and it was of Tabitha Brown, everyone’s favorite auntie, at a conference comparing pregnancy to launching a business. This was an older video, and I already know that she received some heat from this video. I get why, but it got me thinking she might be onto something. Not because entrepreneurship and motherhood are the same thing, but because the creation of anything changes you. Mentally, emotionally, physically, spiritually. Bringing something into the world asks something from you.

I will never take away the power of a woman when pregnant. Women are powerful, and what our bodies can do is magical. I have many mommy friends who are real-life superheroes! But instead, I’m reflecting on what it means to carry an idea for so long that it eventually changes the person carrying it.

So go with me on this journey real quick.

What, oftentimes, friends and families don’t know is that building a business can feel like giving birth to something new. It’s so much work, at times it can be physically painful, exhausting, and doubt constantly rears its ugly head. Like with a child, you need your support system to help make it grow.

And every new launch becomes another thing needing your attention, care, energy, and protection.

For example, I co-founded a business, eres., a digital network that celebrates the power of being you. We create spaces that center BIPOC intersectional stories, culture, and creativity. So that’s already a child of its own, which I have to clothe, aka spend money, feed, aka produce more content, and lead/ teach, aka manage a team. Amidst managing that child, in May of last year (actually, we hit a year on May 3rd), my business partner and I decided we wanted to have another child, called Be You Fest, an immersive festival for creatives and entrepreneurs.

And let me tell you, this “pregnancy” was so hard.

We needed to build an entirely new support system (team) to bring this one to life. Initially self-funded until realizing we wouldn’t be able to afford it on our own, so we reached out for support (our village) and fundraised. The pre-production was filled with non-stop meetings, on-the-fly content, sleepless nights, and a whole lot of pivoting. My body knew I was overwhelmed before my mind was willing to admit it. Right before “giving birth,” my body was in physical pain. My eyes were worn out, my body was inflamed, my eating habits were terrible, and someone who prides themselves on their health and wellness journey, my routine was shit! At one point, I literally told myself out loud, “I don’t think I am going to make it,” because it’s how I genuinely felt. The scary part is, somewhere along the way, I thought sacrificing myself was part of the process. That it was proof of my commitment. As an entrepreneur, sacrifices must be made, they say. No matter the cost, they say? And I would be more successful cause of it, they say. Who are they? And can I talk to their manager?!

Anyway, I wasn’t in the headspace to contact anyone for support because I was so numb and wanted so badly to reach the finish line. I didn’t even know how to articulate what I needed anymore.

Then the event happened. And I can’t say that I felt much. Although I was proud of all we did, in that moment, I was on pure adrenaline. No actual emotion outside of “we finally made it here” existed. I was physically there, but I was mentally aloof to it all. I had spent so much time trying to survive the ‘birth’ that I never stopped long enough to experience the gift of its arrival.

Post-event, I slowly fell into a more isolated hole. There was so much post-work that needed to be done, but I was mentally and physically clocked out. I obviously can’t fully equate that experience to postpartum, but for the first time, I understood how creation can leave someone emotionally disconnected from the very thing they brought into the world. I was clocked out from this amazing thing we had just created and did. An event that brought happiness to so many creatives and entrepreneurs. With over 25 sponsors, over 200 participants and attendees, 9 workshops, panels, and labs, and 6 different installations, creative spaces, and live screenings. The first of its kind with such limited resources. Yet I felt nothing.

Literal words that came out of my mouth following this event: “I have nothing else to give, nothing left to teach, I don’t feel inspired anymore.” And I felt terrible about it. What scared me most wasn’t the exhaustion. It was how empty I felt after accomplishing something I worked so hard for.

A year later, I’m still working to find my way back to that feeling. But each day, I get a little closer through the practices I’ve nurtured, the conversations I’m willing to have, and the intentional community I’m building around myself. In many ways, it feels like I started over, only now with the knowledge and experience to build something healthier for myself and the people around me. Even while rebuilding, I noticed how much that season had altered me.

Post-event, I “Mommy-brained” hard. I forgot monumental birthdays, forgot to call anyone, my to-do list would be in front of me, and I would still forget what to do next. This is a real thing for entrepreneurs because we are constantly doing and thinking about a million things. But unfortunately, grace is not afforded to us because our peers rarely understand what it is we’re doing.

There are so many more details that I am missing about the process it took to get us to event day, but at the core, I depleted myself beyond reproach, and so much of the journey after was getting out of my head, back into my body, and listening to my needs to reset.

I realized I knew how to build things. I just didn’t know how to sustain myself while building them. That’s what eventually led me to my creative coaching practice. It was something I needed for myself and something I know so many other creatives and entrepreneurs need to. We spend our days figuring out what’s next and not enough on what it means to enjoy the process. I want to help change that perspective. Because creators don’t just need applause after the launch. They need care while they’re carrying the vision, too.