In 2021 we bought our dream property.
Our old mill with the mill stream, the millpond, the paddocks, the barns, and the cottage for Mum. We saw it and fell in love with it. In fact, as we drive down the drive for our first viewing I said “I want it” – it was visceral. I hadn’t even seen inside. It was wildly over our stretched-to-squeaking-point budget. It felt impossible but my husband and I felt the same – it’s ours, we will get this house – it’s meant to be.
We manifested it, yes, but we didn’t sit around waiting for magic. We saved hard.
I created a load of money, very fast, in my business. My husband did the same in his.
We took every bit of action we possibly could because we wanted this place down to our bones.
And that’s why the next part surprised me.
Last week we saw the Omaze Yorkshire house – see pic.
It stopped us in our tracks. Only ten miles away from us, but it looked like a totally different life: a huge barn with stables, a boating lake, a pool, a massive greenhouse, tennis court – the whole glossy dream-home package. We were instantly swept up in it. Manifesting again. Imagining ourselves living there. Mentally measuring up rooms before we’d even entered the draw.
And then something unexpected happened.
The more we pictured ourselves in that house, the more we drifted (just slightly) out of love with the home we’d worked so hard for and dreamed of.
Nothing dramatic.
Just that little wobble you get when something new and shiny appears and suddenly the familiar feels… well, familiar.
You notice the cracks and imperfections you usually ignore. You compare. You fantasise. You forget how much you once wanted what you have now.
And then, of course, we didn’t win.
Once the excitement cooled, we could see clearly what we couldn’t see in the fantasy: The Omaze house was incredible, but it wasn’t actually right for us.
The annexe wasn’t suitable for my 82-year-old mum. It was accessed via steep externals stairs across the yard. She’s currently in a one-level cottage 20 feet from our front door, with her little dog, Honey. It’s beautiful and warm and she has the whole front paddock to herself.
We don’t need stables or a boating lake. Yes, we could have hired the stables out for livery but I wouldn’t want that for the same reason we don’t offer glamping here, we value our privacy more than making money from people coming onto our property.
A pool would have been lovely, but if I truly wanted one, I could build one here. We’ve talked about it before and we’re not bothered.
And it would have made life more complicated for Chloe.
The truth is, the house was perfect – but not for our life.
And because we’ve lived here a while now, we know this place properly. We don’t see it with that first-day sparkle anymore. We see its quirks, its draughty bits, the things we still haven’t got round to fixing… and we love it anyway.
And yes, who knows, that house, or something like it, might come up for sale one day when it actually makes sense. But that’s not where the lesson is.
How this ties back to business
This whole experience reminded me how easy it is to drift out of love with your business – even when you’ve worked incredibly hard to build it, even when it’s exactly what you once dreamed of.
All it takes is something shiny appearing in front of you.
Someone launches a new offer.
You spot an ‘amazing opportunity’ on Instagram.
An advert catches your eye.
And suddenly your perfectly good business feels small or boring or not enough.
Nothing has changed. You’ve just been distracted by a bright shiny object.
It’s the business version of the Omaze house – beautiful from a distance, but not necessarily right for your life, your energy, or the way you want to work.
And meanwhile, the business you’ve put your time and heart into gets pushed to one side while you fantasise about someone else’s path.
You don’t need a new business. You don’t need to burn the whole thing down and start again. You just need to look at what you’ve already built with clearer eyes and remember why you started.
And once you do that, once you take a proper look at what you’ve created (not the fantasy of someone else’s) you usually realise you’re much further along than you thought.
You don’t need a different business. You just need to reconnect with the one that’s already there. The one you built on purpose, even if it’s lost a bit of its sparkle.
Sometimes the spark comes back when you stop chasing things that aren’t meant for you (or not now, at least).
Love, Claire xx