A few years ago, Dylan and I stood inside the studio we’d spent years building from scratch. It was everything we’d ever wanted—flooded with light, humming with energy, filled with the kinds of clients and projects we used to dream about on long drives home from early freelance jobs. We’d landed the international gigs, shot in iconic locations, hit the milestones you’re supposed to hit if you’re “doing well.”
And yet.
There was something brittle under the surface. A quiet kind of fatigue. The kind you don’t post about. Not because it’s some great creative taboo, but because it’s not something you can dress up with good lighting or a nice preset.
Burnout just isn’t sexy.
Ours didn’t come in some dramatic crash. It was slower than that. Creepier. Like a plant wilting in a room you keep forgetting to water. We were constantly producing. Always online. Always available. And we were entirely reliant on social media to drive traffic to our website and keep the business moving forward.
Eventually, we did the unthinkable. We sold the studio.
The one we’d built. The one we loved. The one people still message us about. We moved to the coast. A small piece of land. More sky. More space. More silence, which at first was unnerving and then became the best thing that ever happened to us.
In that silence, something shifted. I started looking at how we’d been working—not just the burnout, but the why of it. Why did it always feel like a rush? Why was content creation this constant source of stress?
So I built a system. Not a fancy one. Not something that needs ten apps and a full-time assistant. Just a simple way to plan, create, and stretch content without burning out in the process. A system that lets you work with your creativity instead of wringing it dry every week.
The result? Our website traffic increased by over 900%. But more importantly, I stopped waking up with that low-grade anxiety about what I was supposed to post today.
We’re teaching that system on Wednesday night at 8pm in our live class, Content Camp. If you’re a creative who wants to show up online without feeling like you're sacrificing your mental health (or your evenings), this class is for you.
It’s the class I wish we’d had five years ago.
Or even two.
—Tamlyn
