Hey {{First Name | Friend}},

Last month, I announced I’m rebranding. The general sentiment has been positive, and some Burnouts have even said it’s encouraging them to examine their own businesses and figure out if it’s time for them to make some changes as well.

Some of these folks are looking to me to help them navigate their pivot—I love that for them and for me.

But who do I, the brand advisor among us, go to navigate my own pivot? And, “*Can’t I just do it myself?”*

Sure, I could do it myself. And you might be able to, too. But let’s be real. I need someone to call me on my bullshit. And I’m guessing you do, too.

That’s this week’s issue of Brand Burnout.

When I talk about my own rebrand, I’m really talking about more than a rebrand. Because it’s always more than a rebrand.

This is a pivot because it’s not just an identity shift. Yes, I’m changing my title (hello, Brand Advisor) and the way I show up (hello, elevated visual identity), but I’m also changing the work itself—what it is, how it’s delivered, and who it’s for.

And this is the same mislabeling I see my clients falling into. We may start talking to one another because they’re thinking about rebranding. So I scratch at the conversation a bit more to learn what’s influencing the idea that a rebrand is the answer to all their problems. And typically, it’s got less to do with identity and more about what they’ve outgrown and what they’re growing into.

This scratching creates a lot of discomfort. It’s like picking at wounds they thought had healed. They start realizing that whatever’s been going on in their business is way more than a flesh wound—and it’s going to take more than a good-looking bandaid to fix it.

And because I’m the person who creates that discomfort for other people, I knew I had to take my own medicine and go find some of this discomfort before I could really know if this was the right move right now.

This month alone, I’ve done an offer walkthrough with a business coach I admire, started coaching sessions, sent 100+ voice memos and texts to business friends, had IRL coffee with someone doing similar work and charging (literally) 15x more than I am, and started a visual identity project with Good + Ready Design Co.

One of those people called my services overkill. 😬

Another told me to double my rate. 😬

One challenged me to think about where I was defaulting to the easy choice. 😬

I was asked, “Do these clients actually exist?” 😬

I was told one of my core values may be my Achilles heel. 😬

And finally, I laughed out loud when I was told I was doing a lot of “big brain thinking.” When, in reality, I was making teeny tiny Italian flags for an Opening Ceremony party cheese board as a way to procrastinate deciding on the parameters of an offer. 😬

In all of this cringing, I’ve been reminded of a quote from The Island of Missing Trees by Elif Shafak. “…Good advice is always annoying and bad advice never is.”

And I’ll be honest—all of these people have annoyed me.

But it’s because they’ve created good discomfort. These people have challenged me to raise my standards, which has meant letting go of some external validation. And letting go of that external validation has meant tolerating a lot of discomfort without jumping to fix things right away.

Without actively seeking people to call me out on my bullshit, I’d be in a completely different place, guided by blind assumptions and my own emotional baggage.

This isn’t just a me problem. And if you’ve made it this far, you either really love watching me bleed, or you’re nodding along because you have experienced (or are experiencing) some of this too.

And if I know one thing, it’s that smart, capable people can come up with some really good excuses. This is how we like to sabotage our own growth.

This shows up as slashing prices “just a little” to keep you don’t have to hear no. It’s overcomplicating a process or justifying a list of deliverables, so you feel like your work is legitimate and valuable. It’s hiding in research and guru advice, so you don’t have to risk being wrong. It’s panicking when something doesn’t work right away and returning to a place where you feel comfortable.

And in pursuit of comfort, we end up staying stuck.

Underpricing our work traps us in a cycle of poor-fit clients.

Overcomplicating means the people we actually want to work with are confused about how to work with us.

Stalling on decisions (or continuously seeking uninformed opinions and one-size-fits-all advice) means we lose the ability to listen to our gut and understand what’s true based on the business we and we alone are building.

Calling things done when, deep down, we know it needs—no, deserves!—some extra attention means we’re constantly lowering our own standards and, in the process, the ceiling for our growth.

This is an endless cycle unless you choose to break it. And you really do have to choose it.

Who gets to hold you accountable? Who helps you hold yourself to a higher standard?

Either you give someone permission to call your bullshit, or you keep building a business around it.

Thanks for reading,