There’s a really common phrase that shows up often in books, podcasts, and pep talks about growth:
"What got you here won’t get you there."
It’s usually delivered like a motivational poster—a tidy little nudge to keep evolving, to think bigger, to become your "next-level" self.
But here’s the part most of those conversations skip:
When you’re actually living inside that sentence, it almost never feels like evolution.
Most of the time, it feels like something broke.
Maybe a system you used to be proud of suddenly feels heavy. Maybe a routine that used to feel grounding now makes you resentful. Maybe you’ve hit a new level in your business and the way you work hasn’t caught up yet.
From the outside, that’s framed as growth (and it is).
But from the inside, it can first feel like:
I’m losing my edge.
I used to be better at this.
If this system worked before and it doesn’t now, I must be the problem.
Not because you’re dramatic or ungrateful.
Because for a long time, your systems weren’t just logistics—they were identity, little self-concepts in disguise.
Maybe you recognize yourself in a few of these:
The email strategy that helped you build a 5k list now feels like shouting into a room that’s too full.
The DIY everything-yourself approach that got you to your first $100k now has you stalled at $300k, exhausted by decisions you used to make on instinct.
The scrappy hustle that launched your business is still running in the background, even though your body and your life can’t keep matching that pace.
Those systems worked. They were right for who you were, what you knew, and what you needed in that season.
So of course you attached meaning to them.
"This is how I work."
"This is what makes me reliable."
"This is what a serious business owner does."
When that system stops fitting, it doesn’t just feel like tweaking a calendar or swapping a tool. It can feel like:
If this doesn’t work anymore, who am I now?
Which is why "what got you here won’t get you there" can land like a secret accusation instead of an invitation. As if the version of you who built those systems was somehow wrong.
They weren’t. They got you exactly here (just like they were always meant to.)
And now you’re outgrowing them.
Plenty of growth advice is drawn like a staircase: neat little steps up and to the right.
A more honest growth model looks like a spiral though.
You come back to the same questions—how do I communicate, how do I deliver, how do I protect my energy—over and over again. Only each time, you’re a slightly different person with slightly different needs, resources, and constraints.
You:
Learn enough to build something that fits.
Live in it for a while.
Outgrow it.
Circle back to the same question at a deeper layer.
On paper, that can look like "backsliding" because you’re revisiting topics you thought you’d already solved.
In reality, that's what healthy, long-term growth looks like.
You are not bad at systems.
You’re moving between the system that was right for who you were and the one that will be right for who you’re becoming.
That in-between space—where the old way doesn’t fit but the new way isn’t built yet—is uncomfortable, yes.
It’s also the exact place where your next version of sustainability is going to come from.
That self-concepts in disguise piece?
That's why this process can feel so tender.
That's why changing a system can feel so personal.
Letting go of an old way of working often means letting go of an old way of seeing yourself:
"I’m the person who does everything myself" quietly becomes "I’m the person who builds support on purpose."
"I’m the person who replies within an hour" becomes "I’m the person whose boundaries protect my capacity and my quality of work."
"I’m the person who hustles" becomes "I’m the person who hustles intentionally."
Same you. Same values. Just with better systems wrapped around them.
So it’s no wonder why our brains throw a little confetti of panic when something that used to work starts squeaking.
It’s not just a workflow change. It becomes a you-shaped transition.
So if you’re in a season where your once-reliable systems suddenly feel itchy, heavy, or suspiciously fragile, nothing is wrong with you.
Welcome to the spiral! We're all here figuring it out together.
Try This
The Outgrown Systems Audit
If you want a gentle place to start, here’s a tiny experiment:
Set a 15-minute timer and open a note.
List 3–5 systems or processes you’re currently using in your business:
Think: how you do email, how you run client delivery, how you plan your week, how you manage your projects.
For each one, ask:
"Does this still fit how I actually work right now? Or am I forcing myself to fit the system?"
If it doesn’t fit, write two short sentences:
"This worked when…" and name the context it was perfect for.
"It doesn’t fit now because…" and name what changed (your capacity, your offers, your team, your health, your priorities).
That’s it.
You don’t have to fix anything today.
You don’t have to burn it all down.
What you are doing in those 15 minutes is separating:
"This system is bad and I failed" from
"This system was exactly right for a past version of me, and I’ve outgrown it."
One story keeps you stuck, trying to prove you can still make an old system work.
The other opens the door to building something that actually fits now.
Just naming what no longer fits is the first step toward building what does.
So yes, what got you here won’t get you there. Not because you need to become someone else, but because you’re allowed to have systems that honor who you are now, not just who you were when you started.
You’re allowed to be in the messy middle, running a business with yesterday’s systems while you slowly build tomorrow’s.
You’re allowed to outgrow what once worked without making it a verdict on your character.
You’re in transition, not in trouble.
Currently Obsessed
Porch Hangs(ish). Cade (my husky) turned 10 just before Christmas and I think it finalized his transition into a grandpa. He has never in his life before, but now daily, likes to laze in the backyard and just watch out the fence at the road and field across from us (and sometimes to the right where are the birds live). It’s becoming one of my favorite parts of the day because I get to talk my midday walks around the backyard and pet him on the way by, and then on my last lap herd him back inside. lol
Glass noodles. I started making Japache last year and then wasn’t able to get my hands on glass noodles again for minute. Well we’re back and now I’m also going to try them with white and red sauce-based meals to see if they work well across the spectrum. Worst case, noodle stir fry forever (and I’ll never complain about that!)
Sleep. Honestly, I haven’t done a whole lot more than sleep, work, eat, walk, occasional tv (still on traitors and started season 3 of The Night Agent this weekend while I vegged and crocheted for a few hours) and then repeat. It’s been interesting to be in a hustle period again and see how it’s changed the ways I show up for myself—some for the better, and some less so. I’m looking forward to March/April when I can do a review and see what all I’ve learned from this and how I can share those lessons with you too.
