Doubt - Part One

As well as not speaking for hours at a time, one of my symptoms of loneliness is doubt, understandably. Spending so much time on one's own is not good for anyone. I massively underestimated how lost in my head I would get, making uninformed decisions, unconvinced and unsure if they are the best ones. Sometimes I just want a distraction, as menial as a five minute coffee break with someone other than the barista who is the highlight of my day, to stop me from seeing things as bigger than they are. Sometimes I just want to be seen. Praise, in any shape or form (and preferably without asking for it); credit where credit is due. I can be resilient and still need a boost of reassurance, desperate for validation that I am doing the right thing (because I am, aren’t I?).

My doubt I believe derives in large part from the inadequacy I feel in an incredibly competitive industry. For nine years I have held onto the dream that NB is going to Blow Up (interpret how you will); I was 21 when I set it up. I had nothing to lose, and no prior experience to scare me. Failure, risk, putting myself out there - it was all fine! As I crept closer to turning 30, I was not necessarily influenced by where I ‘should’ be at this age, I did lose my head to professional expectations of where I ‘should’ be at this stage in business. Gut feel - I knew this was not it. With more to consider - and not just my financial investment but also my time and energy - often I woke up anxious, wondering what am I doing with my life; better yet, is this what I want to spend my life doing?

Running a business and trying to recover from an eating disorder is glorified, self-inflicted risk taking. When faced with so many decisions, in both jobs I take risks willingly; I have to apply myself to all possible outcomes to give NB and myself the best chance of success; for my own Feng Shui at least I know I covered all bases. Like jumping on an Instagram trend and hoping my post goes viral (it never does), or pestering Steven Bartlett to go on his podcast until I am told no for the very reason I want my story to be heard - because they already have “an incredible amount of some of the world’s top CEO’s wanting to come on” (and yet am I not just as much of a CEO as the CEO of Shopify)?

Business rejection bothers me a fraction of the amount of being rejected personally does. As soon as I get an idea in my head I am relentless; everything is to gain; having so much power in my hands - I am responsible for what happens next. If I never try, I will never know what ‘could’ happen as a result. And with no else accountable, the past wades on me. I question my decisions: the products, the strategy (what little there was of one), the flavours from not receiving a Great Taste Award, or from reading one negative review (“to almost throw up when I tried your pathetic God awful product is truly unforgivable”). Reflecting helps me decipher where it all went wrong, where I went wrong, and why - and could I have prevented or altered a course of action? Blaming NB's branding for not launching in Selfridges, for example. I threw money at the problem to try and fix it only to end up with packaging that did not stick - and still no listings. At the same time tinkering with the original recipes for the sake of trying to be more mainstream and popular. Although my logic to sub hazelnuts for cashews was sound at the time, everyone knows and likes Nutella. In an attempt to be more unique - more niche than NB already is for adding no type of sugar - did I merely separate NB from the demand of a pre-existing audience? I don’t know, you don’t know - nobody can know the sliding doors dilemma!

I do not doubt NB nearly as much as I doubt myself. On particularly low-self esteem days, comparing NB to other brands provides me with a more granular explanation of what I am doing wrong or, worse, what I am not doing at all. I kick myself for not having the same tenacity as them, I drive myself mad wondering why - and in 2016 when another nut butter founder approached me at a market and told me that “NB is nothing on {insert brand name}”. At the time - what a dick. Now - to an extent I believe them. All fingers point at me; I am failing my own product! Feeling threatened, surprisingly, is a good motivator. I quickly learned to use my guilt - of not doing enough - and worry - of being overtaken - as fear factors. Allowing myself to get sad, frustrated, sleepless for a while and then suddenly I get impatient. To chase the buyer, write the newsletter, submit the pitch - do the thing that feels pressing and front of mind to keep NB active and in the line of fire. As relentless, often intolerable the perseverance is at times, it is crucial for my own psyche. I feel better for doing; I like knowing that somehow I am still trying to make it happen, even if it takes years - at least I gave it a shot; if I fail I fail nobly. Insignificant as these actions may sound, it is these exact moments that give me hope. Not losing momentum, not taking my foot off the accelerator feels like a pat on the back for good performance. Only a small reward - precisely what I need to fill the void. Almost like I need a level of jeopardy, someone to both answer to and keep me on my toes; tell me, what behaviour is part of the winning plan?! Even if only to prove that NB is worth investing in would make me work smarter and achieve better. That way, when our jar manufacturer runs out of silver lids and I am forced to order gold, at least if they look terrible I am not the only one to blame (if you spot the difference on our December 2023 (and August 2024) batch, please let me know).

I can understand why I came to rely on the eating disorder for support. They say surround yourself with people who have your best interest at heart; my choices were limited. Whereas NB can never guarantee a positive outcome - or any outcome for that matter - an eating disorder never fails me, it is consistent, reliable; it is, perfect. It gave me confidence when NB gave me none; it calmed me down when no else could; I clung to it for a boost of serotonin. And when I felt like I was achieving nothing, like an equation - if all I did in a day was move my body and eat less to feel small, it may give me more grief for a part of my everyday but ultimately it took away the pain that regrettably NB provided.

Losing my period is the perfect depiction. I wanted the respect and the reputation that comes with having a job good enough to earn me a salary - I doubted my chances of being good enough without one so badly I stopped caring about how I got it. I knew it was wrong; depriving my body was never going to solve the problem, but a thing can be two things at the same time. I was so happy on one side - about NB existing - but so sad otherwise - about how it was going. I built an image of a brand outside of reality - I thought it was going to be the best thing ever - slowly it chipped away at my confidence. Without the career to look good, I need the ‘good’ body to make up for my lack. Without the body to impress someone - I may land a more successful career by spending an appropriate amount of time working on it - overall I am hopeless, totally undeserving of anyone’s admiration. A weird juxtaposition if ever there was one. (And I would do anything to avoid that worthless, I-am-unlovable feeling; I cannot fail in my career and ‘let myself go’!).