If you’re a small business owner reading this, I want you to imagine I’m sitting across from you at my kitchen table — hair in a loose bun, ribbon stuck to my jumper, half-drunk cup of tea somewhere nearby, and my phone pinging with something I definitely won’t deal with until tomorrow.
Because this one’s personal.
And a little messy.
And very, very honest.
Let’s talk about this season we’re somehow all surviving
Christmas is… well, Christmas.
That magical time of year where every florist is running on caffeine, adrenaline, and the slight fear that they’ve ordered too many roses but also somehow not enough?
It’s been:
- weddings
- workshops
- walk-ins
- late-night conditioning
- early-morning market runs
- and the occasional moment where I sit on the floor and wonder if I should just give up.
You know, normal festive things.
But this week in particular has been a rollercoaster for my nervous system.
Pricing: my Roman Empire
I’m going to be honest:
I think about pricing a lot.
More than I think about what’s in my fridge, or my calendar, or whether I remembered to switch the hose off in the garden (I didn’t).
And it’s not because I want to overcharge.
It’s because charging at all still feels like an emotional hurdle.
Someone made a tiny comment about the price of a posy I made — THREE large garden roses, butterfly hydrangea, ranunculus, yarrow, butterfly delphinium, wrapped beautifully — and even though I knew, logically, it was priced perfectly…
…it still hit that spot.
You know the one.
That spot just under the ribs where your inner critic lives, clutching a clipboard and whispering:
- “Are you sure you should’ve charged that?”
- “What if they go home and complain about you?”
- “Maybe everyone else thinks your flowers aren’t worth it?”
Meanwhile the rational part of me is standing off to the side like:
“…Girl. You know what premium flowers cost. Chill.”
But anxiety does not chill.
Anxiety does not check wholesale prices.
Anxiety simply throws confetti in the air and shouts, “SHE’S PANICKING AGAIN!”
Worthiness is weird, isn’t it?
As a sensitive human, a recovering people-pleaser, and someone whose craft is deeply personal, I struggle to separate:
“This bouquet is $40”
from
“I am worth $40.”
Even though those two things are not the same — at all.
I could create the most beautiful, airy, romantic bouquet of my life…
and still sit there afterwards wondering if I should knock $5 off “just in case”.
It’s almost funny.
Almost.
But here’s what I keep reminding myself:
Supermarket flowers are not studio floristry.
Premium stems are not cheap stems.
Handcrafted bouquets are not mass-produced bundles.
And my time is not free.
No one sees the two hours of prep, the conditioning, the sourcing, the wrapping, the worrying, the self-doubt, the passion, the artistry.
They see the bouquet.
But we live the whole process.
And then there’s the pure comedy of running a small business
Let me paint you a picture:
It’s 8:30pm.
I’ve just had a shower.
Hair wet.
Dressing gown on.
I’m moisturising my face.
Knock knock knock.
A couple appears at my door asking if they can buy flowers.
And honestly?
That’s small business life in a single scene.
Or what about the day I did admin at a play café and Ollie spilled juice on my notes but I still managed to send out a quote?
Or when I found myself eating dinner standing up at the kitchen counter at 10:15pm because I forgot to sit down?
We’re all just doing our best while the universe throws glitter, invoices, and mild chaos at us.
So this is my real love letter to small business owners:
To the ones who cry in the shower and then get up and finish the bouquet.
To the ones who feel physically ill quoting a price.
To the ones who worry they’re too expensive, too cheap, too much, too little, too slow, too sensitive, too everything.
To the ones who’re doing school pickups between deliveries.
To the ones who go to bed exhausted but still excited for tomorrow.
To the ones who love what they do even when it scares them.
You are not alone.
You are not silly.
You are not “overly emotional.”
You are a human building something with your heart — and that’s rare.
And even on the weeks where anxiety is loud and sales are quiet…
You’re still blooming.
You’re still showing up.
You’re still brave.
Here’s what I wish someone had told me sooner
Charge your worth.
Even when your voice shakes.
Even when someone raises an eyebrow.
Even when anxiety taps you on the shoulder.
Your craft matters.
Your time matters.
Your creativity matters.
You matter.
And if you ever need a reminder, come back to this post.
With love,
Kels x