Six months ago, all I had was a domain name, a rather plain-looking WordPress account and an idea.

What I didn't have was a huge amount of belief in myself. My confidence had been badly knocked. My job had ended just as I'd reached the critical assessment period of my apprenticeship, leaving me to complete it independently (not the easiest thing!).

Between worrying about passing, wondering what the future held, looking for work and dealing with all the other little bits of life, it was a challenging time. One that left me questioning whether marketing was even the right choice for me anymore.

But still, that little idea kept niggling at me.I knew I enjoyed writing, designing and developing ideas. What I didn't know was whether I was good enough to turn those skills into something more, or whether I could handle all the technical, strategic and practical parts that came with running a business.

I'd become convinced that I couldn't.

I didn't believe I could build a website, run a business or create things that people might want to read, buy or hire me to produce.

But I decided to give it a go anyway, convincing myself that it would just be a little portfolio.

Then I finished my apprenticeship independently. And passed.

With a Distinction.

Suddenly, all those things I'd been telling myself, and had been told about my abilities, weren't quite ringing true anymore. So slowly (very, very slowly at times), I started building something of my own.

Remembering Why I Love What I Do

For a while, I thought that leaving my job meant I simply wasn't suited to marketing.

Maybe my brain wasn't suited to the technical things. Maybe it really wasn't for me. Maybe, as was once suggested, I'd be better suited to "working in a flower shop or something". (Although if you know me you know working in a flower shop wouldn't be totally unbelievable for me)

Six months later, I've built my own website from the ground up, taught myself new programmes, created and launched products, opened a mailing list with actual real-life subscribers, and built a growing collection of client work, portfolio projects and blog posts.

It turns out marketing was for me. The environment I was trying to do it in wasn't.

The real turning point was completing my apprenticeship independently. I genuinely never believed I could do it, let alone finish with a Distinction. (I did also demand that my tutor take me off the course a few times. The man has the patience of a saint!)But passing made me start questioning some of the things I'd come to believe about myself.

If I could do that, maybe I could do this. If I didn't understand a complicated bit of technical stuff, maybe I could learn. If something went wrong, perhaps I could work out how to fix it.

Having the space to learn, experiment and make mistakes without feeling that every little error was a catastrophe changed how I approached things.

Spoiler: no great disaster happened when I got something slightly wrong. I started to realise that not knowing how to do something didn't mean I wasn't capable of doing it.

It just meant I didn't know how to do it yet.

And that little change in thinking has made an enormous difference.

Starting with a domain name

That was pretty much it.

A domain name and a very uninspiring-looking WordPress account. I spent hours staring at the screen, wondering how on earth I was supposed to turn it into something that felt like mine.

I'd been given a very basic working knowledge of WordPress, but beyond that, there was an awful lot to learn. And learn I did.

What started as a very basic homepage has gradually become a fully functioning website, complete with an online shop, customer accounts, service pages, payment systems, digital downloads, mailing list forms and all the important legal bits.

Visually, she's had quite a few facelifts over the last six months as I've worked out what I wanted the studio to look and feel like. But it's the less glamorous things that have probably taught me the most. SEO, analytics (turns out I absolutely love this part), accessibility, mobile layouts, website performance, DNS settings and even additional CSS.

Six months ago, most of those things would have terrified me.

Now they're things I can confidently work with, even if I occasionally have to do a bit of research first. There have been technical problems, broken layouts, mysterious errors and updates that made me question all of my life choices. There have also been plenty of occasions where one tiny change turned into five different side quests and somehow ended with me redesigning half the website.

Because apparently I don't do straightforward.

But I worked things out. Sometimes it took a while. Sometimes I had to try several different approaches. Sometimes I had to walk away and come back with a fresh pair of eyes.

But I got there in the end.

And perhaps the biggest surprise is that I've discovered I actually enjoy the technical side of things. I always knew I liked the creative work, but I never imagined I'd find so much satisfaction in problem-solving, improving website performance or figuring out why something wasn't behaving as it should.

The website has been one of my biggest achievements over the past six months. And it's something I'm really, really proud of.

Jumping in at the deep end

The website hasn't been the only learning curve. I've taught myself new programmes, explored new plugins, improved my existing skills and learned far more about ecommerce, subscriptions, marketing systems and digital products than I knew six months ago.

I opened a mailing list, and actual real-life humans subscribed to it. I created a welcome email, then completely redesigned it when I realised I'd outgrown the original. I've launched a monthly newsletter, which has quickly become one of my favourite pieces of marketing to create.

I've also discovered that analytics might be my new favourite hobby.I genuinely enjoy checking how the website is performing, where visitors are coming from, what they're reading and how they're navigating around the site. It's helped me understand customer journeys, improve the experience for visitors and make better decisions about what I'm creating.

I've experimented with different social media platforms, too. LinkedIn, in particular, has been a bit of a surprise. It was never somewhere I spent much time before, but now I really enjoy connecting with people, sharing projects and having conversations about marketing and business.

And the analytics are brilliant. You can see all sorts of interesting information about who's viewing your content, including industries and companies. Which is excellent news for someone as nosey as me.

I've also started investing in the physical side of the studio, with a new printer and Cricut allowing me to bring some of my illustrations and products into the real world.

That opened the door to an entirely new project: my little Mail Club. Of course, every new idea seems to involve learning another five things I didn't know I needed to learn.

But each time I figure something out, I trust myself a little more.

Finding the studio's identity

I didn't have a perfectly finished brand identity when I started. I had a general idea for a logo, a colour palette and a rough picture of what I wanted Polka Dot Teapot Studio to become.

One thing I did know was that I wanted to keep the Polka Dot Teapot name. It's an identity I've held on to since 2013, and even after all these years, it still feels the most like me.

But the studio itself has changed quite a lot over the last few months. I've refined the colours, typography, imagery and tone of voice as I've become clearer about what I want the business to represent. I've redesigned and rewritten pages more times than I can count.

Some things have stayed exactly as they were. Others have quietly disappeared when I realised they didn't really fit anymore.

At first, I thought I needed to choose between marketing, design, writing and illustration. I worried that offering too many different things might make the business difficult to understand. But eventually, I realised that bringing those things together was actually the point.

I don't need to choose between being creative and being a marketer.I can offer marketing and design services while still having my little creative outlets, illustrations and digital products.

The challenge has been finding a way to bring everything together so it feels like one cohesive studio rather than lots of unrelated ideas.And I think I'm finally getting there.

Building the studio up

Sometimes, when I'm caught up in the day-to-day work, it's easy to look back and think I haven't really achieved very much. But when I actually sit down and look at the past six months, the story is quite different from what my brain likes to tell me.

I've completed my most extensive freelance project so far: two substantial print brochures for Ultrimax, alongside technical product information sheets. I've also worked on smaller projects, including charity work (because I'm a big old softie for animals in need), and creative projects supporting local businesses and causes.

Each project has given me the opportunity to develop my skills, work with different people and build a portfolio that reflects what I can actually do.

Alongside client work, I've developed my own range of digital products, continued building and improving the website, invested in new equipment and kept working on the studio's own marketing. I've written blog posts, created content, worked on SEO, monitored analytics and experimented with different ways to reach people.

One of my favourite developments has been my email marketing. I've really enjoyed building the mailing list, improving the welcome experience and launching my monthly round-up newsletter. It's become a lovely way to share what's been happening behind the scenes, new products, projects and the occasional bit of studio chaos.

And, of course, there's the Mail Club. What started with me coming across somebody else's mail club during a TikTok doomscroll and thinking, "Ooo, that looks fun!" somehow turned into a real physical product with actual paying customers. TikTok is a dangerous place to be.

The Mail Club is also the first product I've designed, printed, cut and packed entirely here in the studio. From illustrations and collectible cards to stickers, prints and all the little extras, it's brought together so many of the things I enjoy doing. And I think that's why it's become one of my favourite projects. It's one of the clearest examples of what I can create when I allow all my interests and skills to work together instead of trying to keep them in separate boxes.

So, as it turns out, my brain has been lying to me. I actually have done quite a lot.

Actual real-life humans are here!

One of the things that still blows my mind a little is that actual real-life people are here, paying attention to something I've created.

People visit the website. They read my blog posts. They open my newsletters. They comment on my social media posts. I even recognise some of the same companies and people appearing in my LinkedIn analytics, which always makes me smile.

People have trusted me with important projects, customers have bought my products and others have taken the time to offer encouragement and support.

A special shout-out to my college friends from my apprenticeship, who regularly pop up to cheer me on. It's genuinely lovely to see familiar faces supporting what I'm doing.

None of this is happening on an enormous, viral scale. But it still feels huge to me.Real people are choosing to spend their time, money and attention on my little studio and the things I've created.

Six months ago, I wasn't convinced that would happen at all. And every person who's visited, bought something, worked with me, shared a post or offered a kind word has helped me rebuild a little bit of the confidence I'd lost.

So, genuinely, thank you.

What I've learned

The first six months haven't followed a particularly neat plan.

I mostly threw myself in at the deep end and worked things out as I went along. I've experimented, changed direction, revisited old ideas and occasionally given myself considerably more work than necessary because I decided one tiny detail needed improving. Which, naturally, turned into an entire afternoon of side quests.

But I've learned some important things along the way.

I'm more capable than I gave myself credit for.
I can handle the technical parts as well as the creative ones. I can learn complicated things, solve problems and find solutions without needing somebody else to do it for me.

I don't need to know everything before I begin.
I'm perfectly capable of researching something, testing different approaches and working things out as I go. And if I don't get it right the first time, it's not the end of the world.

I don't need to fit neatly into one professional box.
Marketing, design, storytelling and illustration don't have to compete with each other. There's space for all of them, and bringing them together is part of what makes the studio mine.

Consistency doesn't mean producing something every single day.
As a marketer, there's sometimes a pressure to feel like I should constantly be posting, creating and sharing. But I've learned that one thoughtful, useful piece of content can be worth far more than posting five days a week simply for the sake of it. Sometimes consistency is just continuing to return to the work, even when progress feels slow.

And perhaps the most important lesson of all:
Confidence doesn't always arrive before you do something difficult.
Sometimes you have to do the thing while you're still doubting yourself. Then look back afterwards and realise you actually managed it.

I built more than a business
It's easy to measure what I've built over the last six months in website pages, products, projects, subscribers and analytics. Those are the visible things. And I'm proud of them.

But I didn't just build a business. I rebuilt confidence that had been badly knocked. I rebuilt my belief that I could learn difficult things, solve problems and create work worth sharing.

Most importantly, I stopped using one difficult experience as evidence that I wasn't capable. The work was always for me. I just needed the space to discover what I could actually do.

I still don't have everything worked out, and I suspect Polka Dot Teapot Studio will continue changing and evolving as I do. The next six months will hopefully bring more client projects, new products, creative experiments and probably several more technical problems that send me down completely unnecessary rabbit holes.

But this time, I'll be moving forward with considerably more belief in my ability to make those ideas real.

Six months ago, I thought I'd lost my opportunity.
Actually, I was beginning to create my own.