Notes from the Messy Middle

Erin Gregory

Notes from the Messy Middle is for the people building something on their own terms. Conversations with founders, fractional executives, consultants, and mission-driven leaders who stopped performing someone else's version of success and built work that actually fits their lives. The middle is messy. That is where the real work happens. You do not have to have it figured out to begin. eringregorycreative.substack.com

  1. He Spent 23 Years Chasing the Top Before Realizing He'd Been Running from Himself

    26. APR.

    He Spent 23 Years Chasing the Top Before Realizing He'd Been Running from Himself

    Ryan Maxwell was 11 months away from becoming president of his company when he quit. The goal was within reach, but somewhere along the line, something fractured. He caught a glimpse of himself he couldn’t unsee: he cared more about disappointing his boss than his wife. Ryan had spent 23 years in corporate leadership doing what high-achievers do, setting targets, hitting them, and setting bigger ones. He was good at it. The path to president was right there. And then one Tuesday morning, after a run-in with his boss that made it clear where Ryan ranked in his own hierarchy, he knew he no longer belonged there. So he left. He didn’t slow down. He took everything he’d built, all that drive and discipline and relentless forward motion, and poured it directly into his own businesses. They grew fast. Too fast. And in late 2019, before the world had any idea what was coming, the weight of it all came crashing down. Then COVID hit. Then his mother-in-law died in the early days of the pandemic. And then, as Ryan describes it, his entire worldview collapsed. What followed wasn’t a tidy reinvention. It was the slow, disorienting work of figuring out who you are when achievement is no longer the answer. Successful on the outside. Disconnected on the inside. That’s how he describes the version of himself he’d been performing for decades; numb, lost, checking every box that was supposed to lead to fulfillment. It didn’t. Crying Ryan Ryan grew up being called “Crying Ryan” — a nickname that rewired his relationship with himself for decades. He learned early that the path to acceptance was performance. Be what people need you to be. Stay ahead. Don’t let them see you struggle. “I became what I needed to be,” he says, “or so I thought.” That belief drove a lot of his success. It also cost him a lot of his life. One of the things Ryan speaks to most honestly is presence, or the lack of it. For most of his adult life, he was mentally three steps ahead, running calculations, managing outcomes, trying to stay ahead of whatever was coming. He was in the room, but he wasn’t there. “I was so identified with my thinking,” he says, “that I was mentally time-traveling. Missing the tiny, seemingly insignificant moments that make life special.” He watched his wife walk through postpartum depression and realized, with painful clarity, that achievement couldn’t fix what was actually happening. He sat in a church pew one day and felt the full weight of being completely out of alignment with his own life. These are the moments he calls “2x4 moments.” The hits you keep absorbing until you finally stop and pay attention. The Unglamorous Practice of Listen to Himself The work Ryan has done since then is the daily, unglamorous practice of learning to listen to himself. Journaling. Reflecting. Asking hard questions. Naming the gap between who he intends to be and how he’s actually showing up. “What am I protecting right now?” is one he comes back to often. The shift that changed everything, he says, was learning to accept himself. Not perform. Not achieve. Just accept. Once that started to settle, the comparison faded. The judgment of himself and everyone else began to drop away. He named his Substack Chasing Maximus, and the name says everything. It’s not about chasing more. It’s about finding what was buried underneath — what so many sacrifice in the pursuit of success rather than happiness. He still runs businesses. He still has a full life — 26 years of marriage, five kids, two grandkids. But he experiences it differently now. He’s in it. Present. What Ryan’s story makes clear is that the messy middle isn’t one moment. Sometimes it’s a decade of accumulated pressure finally giving way; the slow erosion of presence until one day you look up and realize you’ve been somewhere else this whole time. And sometimes the hardest part isn’t leaving, it’s sitting in the ambiguity of what comes next. “Breakdowns and breakthroughs are inextricably connected,” Ryan says. “What doesn’t kill us has the potential to make us stronger. It all depends on how we make meaning of it.” That distinction is what embracing the messy middle is all about. If this story resonated with you, there are more conversations like this one. Notes from the Messy Middle features mission-driven leaders, entrepreneurs, and caregivers navigating the self-led life and building something that actually fits. New episodes release monthly. Be sure to subscribe wherever you listen. Erin Gregory is the founder of Erin Gregory Creative, a strategic communications and brand consultancy serving mission-driven organizations. She writes the Self-Led Life on Substack and hosts Notes from the Messy Middle, a podcast exploring meaningful work, pivots, and the messy reality of building something that lasts. She lives in Columbus, Ohio with her three daughters. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit eringregorycreative.substack.com/subscribe

    32 Min.
  2. She Left Her Job on a Friday. By Monday, Everything Had Changed.

    4. MÄRZ

    She Left Her Job on a Friday. By Monday, Everything Had Changed.

    Jenn Kersey didn’t quit her job to start a candle company. She quit to build something with her hands — a home restoration business alongside her husband Kyle, stripping walls, reclaiming old things, and making them worth something again. She’d been planning it for a while. She had a date. She had a vision. She had a plan. Then she walked out the door on March 13, 2020, and the world closed. The same day Jenn left her job, Kyle got a text. School was going virtual. Their elementary-aged boys needed help navigating this new, disorienting thing that nobody really understood yet. And Kyle, a high school principal, was suddenly responsible for shepherding an entire staff and student body through it too. The restoration business went on hold. Not because the dream died, but because Jenn did the math — the financial math, the family math, the what-does-this-moment-actually-require math. Material costs were about to skyrocket. Her boys needed her home. And forcing something that wasn't ready wasn't the answer. So she got quiet. And she got creative. She started making candles. Thanks for reading Erin Gregory Creative! Subscribe for free to receive new posts and support my work. Specifically, wooden wick candles — the kind that burn clean, that don’t fill your house with toxins, that crackle just enough to make a room feel like somewhere you want to be. She tested them on honest people, family and friends who would tell her if they were bad. They weren’t bad. They were really good. By November 2020, Rusted Root Co. was open for business online. Here’s what I love about Jenn’s story: she didn’t pivot because she gave up. She pivoted because she paid attention. She noticed what her family needed. She noticed what the market was doing. She noticed what lit her up creatively and what she could actually build into something sustainable. And she moved — carefully, methodically, authentically — toward that thing. Within a year of launching online and doing markets in the cold with cut-up gloves so she could work the sales platform, she had a brick-and-mortar shop in Rockville, Indiana. The kind of shop that feels like it was always supposed to be there. She told me she reached a sustainable point around year four. That’s the word she used — sustainable. Not massive. Not viral. Sustainable. And she said it like it was exactly enough, because it is. Jenn Kersey, Founder, Rusted Root Co. Now she and Kyle are circling back to that original dream. They’re restoring the 1893 building that houses Rusted Root Co. — an old Irish pub — through a new venture called Rusted Root Co. Properties. The plan didn’t disappear. It just waited. This is the first episode in the Working Mom Series, running through Women’s History Month. These aren’t stories about having it all. They’re stories about making choices — sometimes hard ones — and building something that lasts. Jenn’s is a good place to start, because her story isn’t about a dramatic reinvention. It’s about a woman who left one door open, found another one, and walked through it with her eyes open. Find more clips from our conversation on YouTube. Listen to my full conversation with Jenn Kersy of Rusted Root Co. on Notes from the Messy Middle. Find her candles at rustedrootco.com (shipping to Indiana and surrounding states) and on Instagram and Facebook @RustedrootCo. This article is part of a larger series. I’m featuring real women in the thick of it — founders, freelancers, corporate climbers, and everyone in between. Reply here or send me a note. Your story belongs in this series. Find other stories from this series below. Two books nearly ready. Living on Purpose is for the woman who is tired of fitting her life into the margins of her work. Own Every Minute follows two people who said enough, walked away from debt and expectation, and built something nobody saw coming. More soon. Erin Gregory is the founder of Erin Gregory Creative, a strategic communications and brand consultancy serving mission-driven organizations. She writes Communicating with Purpose on Substack and hosts Notes from the Messy Middle, a podcast exploring meaningful work, pivots, and the messy reality of building something that lasts. She lives in Columbus, Ohio with her three daughters. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit eringregorycreative.substack.com/subscribe

    27 Min.
  3. Why This Gift Planning Director Chose the Messy Middle

    19. FEB.

    Why This Gift Planning Director Chose the Messy Middle

    Nonprofit leaders are stretched thinner than usual right now. Funding is unpredictable, major donors are harder to land, and the middle of your donor base (the people who could actually sustain you) keeps getting ignored because the ROI feels impossible to justify. Here’s what most organizations miss: middle donors, those giving between $1,000 and $10,000 annually, represent only 1% of donors but provide 30 to 40% of revenue. Yet research shows that only 8% of organizations even call these donors to thank them. They fall into what fundraising experts call a gray area, too generous for broad campaigns but not quite at the level for major donor treatment. David Golaner, Director of Gift Planning at the American Jewish Joint Distribution Committee (JDC), spent 25 years learning that the middle is exactly where you should be investing. “Middle donors are where the real opportunity lives,” David told me on a recent episode of Notes from the Messy Middle. “The problem is, they require real relationship-building without the immediate ROI that makes it easy to justify. That’s why so many organizations ignore them. But invest in a handful strategically over five years, and you’re building your next generation of major donors.” Thanks for reading Erin Gregory Creative! Subscribe for free to receive new posts and support my work. What the Messy Middle Taught Him About Donor Strategy Now at JDC, David describes his role as being on an “all-star team” where top professionals from various organizations come together. Working globally has taught him that cultural intelligence matters as much as fundraising expertise, and that the world isn’t as broken as media coverage suggests. His most valuable insight comes from understanding the power of the middle in donor portfolios. “The middle has the worst ROI compared to mass fundraising or major donor gifts,” David admits. “But it’s also where most organizations underinvest, and it’s messy to manage.” As a middle donor himself, he understands the tension of giving to a large organization where your contribution barely registers versus a small one where the same amount prompts a parade. His solution? Relevance and impact reporting. Show donors why they matter and what their investment accomplished. Make the case for your organization’s relevance in their lives, whether they’re deeply engaged or only interact occasionally. This matters right now because so many nonprofits are chasing major gifts while neglecting the donor segment that could sustain them through volatile funding cycles. The middle is messy, but it’s also where stability is built. When Stepping Back Means Moving Forward Understanding the power of the middle didn’t come from theory. It came from David living it. After years in executive leadership, he made a move that puzzles most people in our field: he deliberately stepped back into middle management. Not because he had to, but because he wanted to make a bigger impact. His transition started when the senior center he led in Baltimore merged with a larger organization. Rather than viewing this as a loss, he saw it as an opportunity to scale up his learning. He joined the Associated Jewish Federation of Baltimore in middle management, working on a centennial campaign at an organization with a $50 million annual budget and a $200 million campaign. The nonprofit sector operates differently at scale, and David knew that to expand his impact, he needed to understand how larger systems work, even if it meant a smaller title. The shift required an identity reset. David had spent four years working for a Jewish funeral home, and he knew that role had started to define how people saw him professionally. So he made a deliberate choice to rebrand himself, right down to changing his wardrobe to wear bow ties as a visual marker of his evolution. “I needed to separate that chapter from what came next,” he explained. “Sometimes you have to actively signal that you’ve moved on.” He’s in what he calls “the middle of his professional story”, hoping for another 25 years of meaningful work. That perspective, that willingness to embrace the messy middle of his own career, taught him everything he knows about why that same territory matters in fundraising. While he rebranded his style, his core values remained consistent. When I asked David about those values, he didn’t hesitate: humility, amenability, and curiosity. “Curiosity is a great value for growth,” he said. “Amenability is just being nice. And humility and amenability together make you someone people want to work with, regardless of their role or level.” These principles allowed him to step back without ego, to learn from colleagues after decades of leadership, and to adapt when the pandemic forced everyone to pivot from relationship-based, in-person philanthropy to remote donor engagement practically overnight. For nonprofit professionals navigating funding uncertainty, staff turnover, and donor fatigue, these values are survival skills. What Nonprofit Leaders Can Learn David’s insights apply whether you’re rethinking your donor strategy or navigating your own career transition. Here’s what matters most: 1. Diversify your revenue streams beyond traditional fundraising. David’s experience as the first director of auxiliary revenue at the Park School of Baltimore taught him that income from assets like summer camps and facility rentals creates organizational resilience. This makes for “a healthier organization in good days and a viable organization in the not-so-good days.” 2. Invest in your middle donors strategically. Don’t try to steward everyone equally. Pick a handful of middle donors with the right combination of involvement and capacity for growth. Philanthropy is a long game, and developing even a few of these relationships over five years can yield significant returns. 3. Use your donors as a focus group. Ask them directly what type of communication they respond to and what would move them from liking your organization to loving it. David notes the old fundraising adage: “Ask someone their opinion and you’ll get a gift. Ask for a gift and you’ll get an opinion.” 4. Learn to say no so you can say yes to what matters. David’s ability to balance a demanding role with family life and board commitments came down to one skill: prioritizing ruthlessly so he could live up to the expectations that truly mattered. 5. Embrace the fact that there’s no escaping the messy. Whether you’re navigating a career transition or managing a donor portfolio, the middle is inherently complicated. The leaders who succeed are the ones who stop trying to avoid the mess and start learning from it. David’s journey proves that growth doesn’t always look like climbing the ladder. Sometimes it looks like choosing the bigger pond, even when it means you’re no longer the biggest fish. The most strategic move can look like a step backward to everyone watching from the outside. You can find David on social media at @bowtiedg, and listen to our full conversation on Notes from the Messy Middle. I believe the life you design on purpose is the one worth living — and the same is true for your organization's story. I'm a brand strategist and storyteller helping mission-driven organizations and entrepreneurs clarify their message and communicate their impact. Learn more at eringregorycreative.com. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit eringregorycreative.substack.com/subscribe

    31 Min.
  4. Live Intentionally: Make Conscious Choices Daily

    29. JAN.

    Live Intentionally: Make Conscious Choices Daily

    I started writing my book, Living on Purpose, because I wanted to build something unique to myself — something that reflected my skills, served the clients who saw value in what I brought to the table, and gave me autonomy over my days. But more than that, I wanted to show my kids what it actually looks like to live out your passions. So when they grow up, they feel not just capable, but compelled to do the same. That’s been the driving force behind everything I’ve built over the past decade — my freelance practice, my independent consulting business, this newsletter, the podcast. It’s all been in service of one question: What does it mean to live intentionally? Living intentionally isn’t about having it all figured out. It’s about making conscious choices with your time, your energy, and the impact you make while you’re here. I think about this constantly in my work with nonprofits and mission-driven organizations. The best leaders I know aren’t the ones with perfect five-year plans or flawless execution. They’re the ones asking the right questions: Is this good for us? Does this align with what we believe in? Are we setting an example for our team and our community? If the answer isn’t clear, it’s time to reevaluate. For me, living intentionally is about promoting what I believe in and hopefully helping people along the way. That choice has been wonderful — and very humbling at times. There have been slow seasons where I questioned everything. There have been moments when I wondered if I should just get a “real job” with benefits and a steady paycheck. But then I remember why I started this in the first place. I wanted my girls to see that you don’t have to choose between stability and passion. That you can build a life that serves you while serving others. That work doesn’t have to drain you, it can energize you when it’s aligned with what you actually believe in. The same principle applies to your organization’s story. When you make conscious choices about how you communicate your mission, your message resonates more deeply with the people you’re here to serve. You stop trying to be everything to everyone and start speaking directly to the hearts of the people who share your values. You stop second-guessing every decision because you have a clear framework for evaluating what aligns with your purpose and what doesn’t. You build something that feels authentic — not because you’re following a template, but because you’re making choices that reflect who you actually are and what you actually care about. That’s what I help organizations do. I work primarily with nonprofits, health and wellness ventures, and mission-driven entrepreneurs who are scaling, pivoting, innovating, or seeking brand refreshes. Organizations that care about their communities as much as their bottom line. Because here’s what I’ve learned over 10+ years of freelancing and running my own consulting business: The organizations that make the biggest impact aren’t the ones with the biggest budgets or the flashiest campaigns. They’re the ones that know exactly what they stand for and communicate it clearly. They’re the ones asking the hard questions and making conscious choices about where to invest their time, energy, and resources. They’re the ones living — and working — intentionally. Three ways to start living more intentionally this week: 1. Audit one decision you’re facing right now. Ask yourself: Is this good for me? Does this align with what I believe in? Am I we setting an example? If you can’t answer clearly, that’s your signal to pause and dig deeper. 2. Identify one thing you’re doing out of habit, not intention. Maybe it’s a weekly meeting that no longer serves anyone. Maybe it’s a messaging angle that worked three years ago but doesn’t reflect who you are now. Name it, then decide if it stays or goes. 3. Write down what matters most to you right now — not five years ago, not in some idealized future, but right now in this phase of your life or your organization’s journey. Let that list guide your next three choices. See what shifts. So here’s my question for you: What questions do you ask when evaluating if something aligns with your mission? Hit reply — I’d love to hear from you. P.S. If you or your organization is in a transition — scaling, pivoting, or seeking a brand refresh — and you’re struggling to articulate what makes you different, let’s talk. I help nonprofits, health and wellness organizations, and mission-driven entrepreneurs clarify their message and communicate their impact. Learn more at eringregorycreative.com. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit eringregorycreative.substack.com/subscribe

    1 Min.
  5. 2. JAN.

    How Letting Go Made Room for Something New

    Sometimes the hardest part of change isn’t figuring out what’s next, it’s letting go of what no longer serves you. Thanks for reading Erin Gregory Creative! Subscribe for free to receive new posts and support my work. When Marissa Malson’s company was acquired and layoffs began, she could see the writing on the wall. “It was clear that their vision for my role and mine didn’t match up,” she said. “They continued to lay off members of my team… and eventually, in the fall of 2024, they let me go.” For many of us, that kind of ending brings fear, and the instinct to scramble for the next job and some sense of stability. But for Marissa, the layoff became something else entirely: a chance to stop, breathe, and reevaluate. “Leaving that job wasn’t something that upset me,” she told me. “The way they handled it was less than kind, but once I let that go, I was free to move on to finding my true passion.” After fifteen years in marketing, from sports and retail to manufacturing and software, Marissa realized that none of those roles quite aligned with the kind of work that lit her up. She wanted something more creative and meaningful. So instead of rushing into another corporate role, she did something she’d never done before: she took time for herself. “I’ve never not had a job lined up after leaving a company,” she said. “So this was new territory, but I wasn’t scared.” A Pivot Toward a New Purpose What she did next might sound familiar to anyone who’s ever felt the pull toward a more creative existence. Marissa had started writing a mystery novel months earlier, not quite sure where it was heading. After the layoff, she decided to finish it. “I began writing The Not So Average Life of Average Jane in early 2024,” she said. “I took this opportunity to finish and publish my book.” She also enrolled in the UCLA Extension Writers’ Program in Editing and Publishing, completing her certificate later that year. What could have been a year of stress and anxiety became a time of growth and opportunity. Today, Marissa is a published author with a sequel due out in 2026 and the founder of Just A Good Book Publishing, a company that helps independent authors publish, market, and share their work. “I’ve connected with readers all over the world who’ve shared how much they love my book,” she said. “I’m more involved in my own community through book clubs, markets, and other reader events. I’m happier being on my own schedule, and even though owning your own business has its challenges, I’m determined to stay on this path.” When we spoke, Marissa talked about the divine timing that guided her along the way. “I happened to be at my alma mater, the University of Dayton, for a basketball game when I saw an ad for the Erma Bombeck Writers’ Workshop,” she said. “I was just looking for coffee that morning and wandered into the library, where they had an Erma exhibit on display. That one decision kickstarted my publishing path.” Later, while still working full time, she discovered a love for fiction writing she hadn’t known was there. “The idea for my book came to me after one of my regular yoga classes,” she said. “The words were just in my head, and I had to get them out. I wrote the first three chapters in the Notes app on my phone.” The Power of the Pause When I asked Marissa what she would say to someone navigating their own “messy middle,” her answer was simple: “Take a deep breath and step back. It can be hard to see what the right path is, so get advice from friends and family and let them support you. Go for a walk or do an activity where you can let your mind wander, that’s when the inspiration comes and you can clearly see your path. Then keep going and don’t give up.” For Marissa, healthy practices like yoga, long walks, and disconnecting from electronics helped her find clarity. So did the encouragement of others. “Sometimes the people around you can see the progress you’ve made better than you can,” she said. Her story is a reminder that losing what we thought we wanted often makes room for what we truly need. Because the middle, the uncertain, messy, in-between, is where we stop performing and start figuring out who we are. Listen to my full conversation with Marissa Malson on Notes from the Messy Middle, wherever you get your podcasts, or at eringregorycreative.substack.com. Thanks for reading Erin Gregory Creative! This post is public so feel free to share it. Erin Gregory Creative is the studio of Erin Gregory, a writer, marketing strategist, and full-time communications and branding consultant for mission-driven leaders. As host of Notes from the Messy Middle, a podcast on Substack exploring creativity, communication, and intentional living, Erin connects personal growth with strategic storytelling, helping people and brands speak with more clarity and purpose. Read more at www.eringregorycreative.com or connect on LinkedIn. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit eringregorycreative.substack.com/subscribe

    29 Min.
  6. 03.12.2025

    Building, Letting Go, and Starting Again

    When Catherine Lang-Cline started her company, Portfolio Creative, she had no safety net, just an idea, a partner, and six months of runway to make it work. “It is no surprise that the biggest challenge is making money,” she recalls. “We went all in.” Over the next two decades, that leap grew into a multi-million-dollar success story. Portfolio Creative continues to help marketing and creative professionals find meaningful work and to connect companies with the right talent to tell their stories. Catherine led the business with equal parts creativity and grit until, one day, she realized it was time to move on. Thanks for reading Erin Gregory Creative! Subscribe for free to receive new posts and support my work. “Every creative person works on something continuously until they are done. They know they are done when they can no longer do anything else with it, or they become tired of working on it.” That growing awareness, that sense of completion, became the turning point. Catherine sold her company, not to retire but to evolve. Her next chapter would focus on reflection, mentorship, and the lessons she had learned from two decades of building something from the ground up. From Founder to Author After stepping away, Catherine didn’t rush into the next thing. She gave herself time to pause, but she also felt a responsibility to share what she had learned. “It would be selfish to walk away without sharing,” she says. The result is her first book, The Rules of the Game for Women in Business, now available wherever books are sold. Unlike many business books that rely on abstract motivation, Catherine’s approach is practical and personal. The book offers strategies and scripts drawn from real experience, a field guide for women navigating ambition, uncertainty, and self-doubt in the professional world. “Get it in your head that this will work. Manifest it and walk toward the dream. Be relentless.” That combination of optimism and realism defines Catherine’s voice. She is honest about the challenges that come with entrepreneurship but equally clear that persistence and confidence make the difference. The Power of Asking Looking back, one of Catherine’s biggest early lessons was realizing she was not alone. “Don’t be afraid to ask for help or new ideas,” she says. “Join groups with like-minded people so you start thinking like them.” That advice applies to any creative pursuit, from starting a business to writing a book. Catherine credits her progress to surrounding herself with people who challenged and encouraged her. When she decided to write, she invested in a strategist group that kept her accountable, another reminder that structure and support are forms of self-belief. Even with experience, doubt crept in. “I faced a wall of self-doubt. Is this good? Will this be helpful?” she admits. Her solution was discipline and distance: stepping away when needed, returning with fresh eyes, and trusting that clarity would come with time. For Catherine, writing was not just about creating a product; it was about reclaiming her creative rhythm after years of leading others. The process reminded her that growth often looks like slowing down, reassessing, and rebuilding with intention. Advice for Creatives and Entrepreneurs Catherine’s perspective on business and creativity is refreshingly grounded. She encourages entrepreneurs to investigate how others found success but to accept that failure, frustration, and rejection are part of the work. “Don’t take things personally. Writers and creatives are trying to sell a talent that is so profoundly a part of them. Rise above the frustration because you are not always in front of the people who see and appreciate you.” Catherine describes herself as an above-average student who came from modest beginnings, proof, she says, that ordinary people can do extraordinary things when they combine resilience with purpose. “Regular people can do great things because we have learned survival skills,” she says. “We know how to work hard, and we can also see the prize if we work toward it.” Her story is one of persistence, reinvention, and the confidence of knowing when its time to begin again. About Catherine Lang-Cline Catherine Lang-Cline is the author of The Rules of the Game for Women in Business and former CEO of Portfolio Creative, a creative staffing firm she co-founded and led for 20 years. Through her writing and mentoring, she continues to empower women to navigate the business world with clarity, confidence, and courage. Thanks, as always, for being here.For listening.For showing up in this messy middle with me. If this post hit home, give it a share, a like, a comment. I greatly appreciate your support in my mission. Erin Gregory Creative is the studio of Erin Gregory, a writer, marketing strategist, and full-time communications and branding consultant for mission-driven leaders. As host of Notes from the Messy Middle, a podcast on Substack exploring creativity, communication, and intentional living, Erin connects personal growth with strategic storytelling, helping people and brands speak with more clarity and purpose. Read more at www.eringregorycreative.com or connect on LinkedIn. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit eringregorycreative.substack.com/subscribe

    31 Min.

Info

Notes from the Messy Middle is for the people building something on their own terms. Conversations with founders, fractional executives, consultants, and mission-driven leaders who stopped performing someone else's version of success and built work that actually fits their lives. The middle is messy. That is where the real work happens. You do not have to have it figured out to begin. eringregorycreative.substack.com