I organised a dinner last night that I almost didn't have the guts to. It was a reunion of a little community that formed back in 2023, out of some group sprints I ran each month. Just the Melbourne crew this time. Dulare, Carlin, Jas, and her partner Jake. Most of us hadn't sat in the same room in two years.
Here's something I've never really said out loud.
2023 was a sink-or-swim year for me. I'd quietly decided that if I didn't start getting solid traction, the business or the connection I was craving, I'd call it that year and go back to a 9-5 similar to my previous roles. Two years of false starts sat behind me. No clear offer, no clue who I was actually for, half-convinced leaving my old career had been a mistake.
The thing that saved it wasn't a strategy.
It was realising the support I needed was never going to come from a job. It was going to come from a room of people doing the same hard thing. That was the unlock. You're never really alone. It's just a decision you have to make.
So I built the room. And for a while, it was everything. We hit this peak, an in-person mastermind at a beach house one of the crew hosted, and it felt like the top of something I'd spent a year building.
Then my partner and I went overseas for an extended trip of living out our digital nomad dream across North and Central America.
I let the community quietly wind down while I went off to live my life.
I carried a bit of guilt about that ever since...
...until last night's dinner.
We sat around a table and everyone gave their compressed summaries, reflections and updates.
One person talked about the culmination of a multi-year health journey that left them feeling misunderstood (by themselves and the medical system) until they finally had an answer for the root cause. They were visibly relieved, lighter and more optimistic than they had been since we last saw them.
Another spoke about how their priorities had evolved as their family and businesses grew over the same period.
And another shared about how their courage to push their comfort zone and try a new pursuit led them to a new passion and their romantic partner ❤️
That's when it hit me.
We all had to go on our own "side quests" in the last few years.
Some of those detours were the only way to find parts of ourselves we never had the bandwidth to look at.
Because when you're in a room of people doing the hard thing too, they become mirrors. You see yourself more honestly than you ever could on your own.
The stuff that felt like a struggle at the time was the exact thing each person needed to meet their next chapter.
The community didn't die when I stopped tending it.
It just scattered so everyone could grow. And the bond was still sitting right there at the table, like no time had passed.
So if you're sitting on guilt about a chapter you let close...
Maybe you didn't fail it. Maybe it served you in ways that you couldn't see at the time.
And if you're doing something hard on your own right now, go find (or create) your own room. You're never as alone as it feels.
Sometimes Quitting is the Right Call
Worth saying the other side of it — sometimes quitting is the right call.
There's a difference between quitting because something's hard and quitting because it's run its course. One is fear. The other is discernment.
The question that sorts it — will I feel regret, or relief?
If you're holding onto something past its expiry date, that's the clarity you need.
Big love,
Mamba