Taking Six Weeks Off: A Reflection On Corporate Habits, Motherhood And Building Success On My Own Terms
For coaches and entrepreneurs who came from corporate — and are still learning to give themselves permission.
My last client session was last week.
My next one is in September.
And for the second year running, I am taking six weeks off this summer — properly off — to be present with my children, make memories, fetch an unreasonable number of snacks, and just... breathe.
I want to share some thoughts on this, because last year when I announced I was doing it, I received more messages than I expected from coaches saying things like: “This is so inspiring.” “I needed to hear this.” “How do you give yourself permission?”
And I think that question — how do you give yourself permission — is worth sitting with.
The honest answer is: it wasn’t easy at first.
I spent a decade in corporate.
And I won’t pretend that decade didn’t leave some marks.
The always-on culture. The sense that your worth was tied to your output. The invisible rule that your value is measured by how busy you look — and that if you’re not visibly working, you’re not working hard enough.
That mentality is sneaky. It doesn’t disappear when you hand in your notice. It follows you into your business. It shows up in the guilt of a slow Tuesday. In the anxious checking of emails on a Monday morning when you’d said you were taking the day off. And in the creeping feeling that enjoying your work too much — or working too little — somehow means you’re not serious enough.
That’s corporate trauma dressed up as ambition.
And the work of becoming a genuinely good boss to yourself is partly the work of recognising when you’re bringing the old mentality to a new reality.
I left corporate because I wanted something different. Something mine. Something that fit around the life I actually wanted to build — not the other way around.
So at some point, I had to ask myself: if I wanted a summer where I couldn’t pause, where I was juggling client calls and school holidays and pretending it was fine — I could have just stayed in corporate.
But I didn’t stay. I chose this.
Which means I have to keep choosing it — including the slower parts.
The season you’re in matters.
I have an eight-year-old and a three-year-old.
And if you’ve spent a summer with young children — you already know this — it is not exactly a relaxing spa retreat.
It’s beautiful and chaotic and full and exhausting in the best possible way. Kids at different ages with different needs. My eight-year-old wanting to go on mini adventures. My three-year-old wanting... everything, all at once, at full volume.
This is a specific season of my life. One I’m not going to get back. And I’ve had enough conversations with other entrepreneurial mamas to know that what works for your business in one season might need to look completely different in the next.
Some of the women I spoke to this year work term-time only. Completely. Not one client session in the school holidays.
And when I first heard that, part of me went: can you actually do that?
And then I realised — that reaction is exactly the corporate programming talking.
Yes. You can do that.
You built this business. You get to decide what it looks like. And one of the most radical, quietly revolutionary things about being self-employed is that nobody else is in charge of giving you permission.
Not your old boss. Not the industry. Not a comparison with what other coaches are doing.
Just you.
What this summer actually looks like for me.
Six weeks off from client sessions.
My clients know this. They’ve always known — I’m transparent that I take breaks in August and December. And genuinely, not one of them has ever made me feel bad about it. If anything, they respect it. Because coaches who model the boundaries they teach are coaches worth working with.
During these six weeks, I do have six days — just six, across the whole stretch — where both kids are in their respective places (holiday camp for my eldest, nursery for my youngest).
And on those days…
I’m giving myself permission to do something fun and creative behind the scenes.
Maybe write a few Substack articles. Film some YouTube videos. Put the finishing touches on my new website. Create a resource for coaches that I’ve been turning over in my mind for weeks.
Not because I have to. But because I genuinely want to.
And that distinction — want to vs have to — is everything.
This doesn’t feel like work anymore. It feels like building something I care about, in the pockets of time that belong to me.
That’s what success on my own terms looks like, in this season. It’s not a six-figure launch. It’s not a packed client roster in July. It’s six weeks of being present with my children, six quiet creative days for myself, and the deep satisfaction of knowing … I designed this — intentionally.
For anyone reading this who’s still working on the permission part.
I hear you.
Especially if you’re someone who loves your work. Especially if, like me, you’ve finally found something that energises you rather than drains you and the idea of stepping away from it — even briefly — feels strange.
The pause is not a betrayal of your ambition.
It’s the proof that you’ve built something sustainable.
The coaches who burn out aren’t the ones who rest. They’re the ones who run on adrenaline until they can’t anymore — and then rest is forced on them, not chosen.
Choosing rest is a different thing entirely.
It requires trust. In the work you’ve already done. In your clients, who will still be there in September. In yourself, who will come back in September with more to give — not less.
And if it helps to hear it:
The business will be fine. The clients will be fine. Your reputation will be fine.
And you might just discover that the version of yourself who comes back in September — rested, present, refilled — is the best version of you your clients have ever worked with.
Enjoy your summer, whatever it looks like.
With love and coffee (and a lot of snacks),
Kris x