
Sign up to save your podcasts
Or


There’s a version of success that looks perfect on paper.
Revenue is coming in.
Clients are happy.
People compliment your work.
You’ve built something real.
And yet… it feels heavy in your body.
If you’re here right now—successful, capable, “doing it well”—but privately irritated, drained, or stuck in a low-grade state of dread, I want you to stay right here.
Because businesses don’t usually burn us out overnight.
They do it slowly—through a thousand small compromises we keep calling “just this season.”
Somewhere along the way, the thing you created for freedom can start to feel like a cage.
This post is about how to build a business that doesn’t resent you—and just as importantly, how to build one that the people working with you don’t end up resenting either.
Because success that costs your nervous system, relationships, and sense of self isn’t sustainable—and it’s not the point.
Resentment rarely shows up with fireworks. It leaks.
It disguises itself as:
“I’m just tired.”
“It’s been a rough week.”
“This is what growth feels like.”
“Other people would love to be where I am.”
But underneath that… something feels off.
Here are the most common signs resentment is already present.
Their name pops up and your shoulders tense.
That dread often isn’t because they’re “bad clients.”
You keep saying yes.
You keep adding value.
You keep throwing in “just one more thing.”
And then you quietly feel bitter that no one notices how much you’re giving.
Resentment thrives where generosity isn’t reciprocated or respected—and that’s just human nature. You’re not “bad” for feeling it. You’re human.
You procrastinate on work that normally excites you.
Avoidance isn’t laziness—it’s often self-protection.
“I can’t raise my prices now.”
“I can’t change this.”
“People depend on me.”
“I can’t slow down—everything would fall apart.”
That’s not leadership.
That’s fear dressed up as responsibility.
This is where I plant my flag:
Many people don’t resent their business because they’re failing.
They resent it because they grew—and never updated the structure.
Here are the biggest culprits.
What worked early on doesn’t work as you scale.
Access that once felt generous becomes draining.
Availability that once felt flexible becomes expected.
Boundaries aren’t walls. They’re instructions.
And instructions can be updated.
Underpricing doesn’t just hurt revenue. It erodes respect.
When you’re not paid fairly, you subconsciously expect gratitude to fill the gap—and it never does.
Pricing is tricky, especially in service businesses where “value” feels subjective. But here’s what I know:
Survival pricing might get you started.
When your business becomes your identity:
Critique feels personal
Setbacks feel like verdicts on your worth
You stop knowing where you end and the business begins
That’s a fast track to burnout.
You need an identity outside of what you produce—even if you love what you do.
Early-stage yeses are often survival-driven.
But survival strategies don’t always belong in growth seasons.
What once kept you afloat may now be the very thing pulling you under.
Needing to repair your relationship with your business doesn’t mean you need to set it on fire.
It means you need to renegotiate.
Ask yourself:
What am I expecting of myself that I never agreed to?
What am I allowing others to expect of me by default?
Clarity stops resentment.
Not everyone needs immediate access to you.
This one was a learning curve for me. I used to be an immediate responder—because I was trying to be reliable and helpful. But it created a pattern where I was constantly reacting, constantly “on,” and I could feel the slow drain.
Access is not entitlement.
Time management without energy awareness is useless.
Notice:
When are you most clear?
When do you need recovery?
What drains you faster than it should?
Your body matters. Build like it does.
Some seasons are expansion.
Some are maintenance.
Some are rest and repair.
Shifting gears isn’t failure. It’s maturity.
Your business should evolve as you do.
If your business feels heavy right now, it doesn’t mean you did it wrong.
It means you grew—and the structure hasn’t caught up yet.
That’s fixable.
Audit your resentment.
Where do you feel irritated, exhausted, or trapped? That’s information—not failure.
Choose one boundary to reset.
A response time. A price. A delivery expectation. A meeting you no longer need.
Small shifts restore trust between you and your business.
You are not meant to resent what you created.
And neither are the people working with you.
If you’re feeling overwhelmed, behind, or like your time is constantly slipping through your fingers, it’s not because you’re doing it wrong.
It’s because no one ever taught you how to manage time in a way that honors:
Energy
Priorities
Real life
That’s why I host my live-only Time & Productivity Session — focused on implementation, not theory.
And if you’re craving connection, accountability, and honest conversations about building something that lasts, you’ll find that inside The Patch, the Dandelion-Inc membership.
Because staying in the game?
That’s the work — and it’s enough.
By Lisa Resnick Founder of Dandelion-Inc5
1818 ratings
There’s a version of success that looks perfect on paper.
Revenue is coming in.
Clients are happy.
People compliment your work.
You’ve built something real.
And yet… it feels heavy in your body.
If you’re here right now—successful, capable, “doing it well”—but privately irritated, drained, or stuck in a low-grade state of dread, I want you to stay right here.
Because businesses don’t usually burn us out overnight.
They do it slowly—through a thousand small compromises we keep calling “just this season.”
Somewhere along the way, the thing you created for freedom can start to feel like a cage.
This post is about how to build a business that doesn’t resent you—and just as importantly, how to build one that the people working with you don’t end up resenting either.
Because success that costs your nervous system, relationships, and sense of self isn’t sustainable—and it’s not the point.
Resentment rarely shows up with fireworks. It leaks.
It disguises itself as:
“I’m just tired.”
“It’s been a rough week.”
“This is what growth feels like.”
“Other people would love to be where I am.”
But underneath that… something feels off.
Here are the most common signs resentment is already present.
Their name pops up and your shoulders tense.
That dread often isn’t because they’re “bad clients.”
You keep saying yes.
You keep adding value.
You keep throwing in “just one more thing.”
And then you quietly feel bitter that no one notices how much you’re giving.
Resentment thrives where generosity isn’t reciprocated or respected—and that’s just human nature. You’re not “bad” for feeling it. You’re human.
You procrastinate on work that normally excites you.
Avoidance isn’t laziness—it’s often self-protection.
“I can’t raise my prices now.”
“I can’t change this.”
“People depend on me.”
“I can’t slow down—everything would fall apart.”
That’s not leadership.
That’s fear dressed up as responsibility.
This is where I plant my flag:
Many people don’t resent their business because they’re failing.
They resent it because they grew—and never updated the structure.
Here are the biggest culprits.
What worked early on doesn’t work as you scale.
Access that once felt generous becomes draining.
Availability that once felt flexible becomes expected.
Boundaries aren’t walls. They’re instructions.
And instructions can be updated.
Underpricing doesn’t just hurt revenue. It erodes respect.
When you’re not paid fairly, you subconsciously expect gratitude to fill the gap—and it never does.
Pricing is tricky, especially in service businesses where “value” feels subjective. But here’s what I know:
Survival pricing might get you started.
When your business becomes your identity:
Critique feels personal
Setbacks feel like verdicts on your worth
You stop knowing where you end and the business begins
That’s a fast track to burnout.
You need an identity outside of what you produce—even if you love what you do.
Early-stage yeses are often survival-driven.
But survival strategies don’t always belong in growth seasons.
What once kept you afloat may now be the very thing pulling you under.
Needing to repair your relationship with your business doesn’t mean you need to set it on fire.
It means you need to renegotiate.
Ask yourself:
What am I expecting of myself that I never agreed to?
What am I allowing others to expect of me by default?
Clarity stops resentment.
Not everyone needs immediate access to you.
This one was a learning curve for me. I used to be an immediate responder—because I was trying to be reliable and helpful. But it created a pattern where I was constantly reacting, constantly “on,” and I could feel the slow drain.
Access is not entitlement.
Time management without energy awareness is useless.
Notice:
When are you most clear?
When do you need recovery?
What drains you faster than it should?
Your body matters. Build like it does.
Some seasons are expansion.
Some are maintenance.
Some are rest and repair.
Shifting gears isn’t failure. It’s maturity.
Your business should evolve as you do.
If your business feels heavy right now, it doesn’t mean you did it wrong.
It means you grew—and the structure hasn’t caught up yet.
That’s fixable.
Audit your resentment.
Where do you feel irritated, exhausted, or trapped? That’s information—not failure.
Choose one boundary to reset.
A response time. A price. A delivery expectation. A meeting you no longer need.
Small shifts restore trust between you and your business.
You are not meant to resent what you created.
And neither are the people working with you.
If you’re feeling overwhelmed, behind, or like your time is constantly slipping through your fingers, it’s not because you’re doing it wrong.
It’s because no one ever taught you how to manage time in a way that honors:
Energy
Priorities
Real life
That’s why I host my live-only Time & Productivity Session — focused on implementation, not theory.
And if you’re craving connection, accountability, and honest conversations about building something that lasts, you’ll find that inside The Patch, the Dandelion-Inc membership.
Because staying in the game?
That’s the work — and it’s enough.