For a long time, everything felt a little bit lost.
Not dramatically lost. I was still working. Still helping people. Still doing things I was good at. From the outside, Digitastic was still Digitastic.
But somewhere along the way, I think I lost a bit of me.
I lost sight of who Alex was in the business and, because of that, I started to lose sight of who Digitastic was too.
I was doing work I could do. Work I knew how to do. Work I was perfectly capable of delivering.
But there is a massive difference between being good at something and it actually lighting you up.
And I wasn’t lit up.
I’d dulled myself without really noticing it.
This has probably been one of my biggest realisations recently.
There are so many scripts around us telling us what business is supposed to look like.
You should sell this way.
You should structure your services like this.
You need this type of offer.
You need to position yourself this way.
You need to scale.
You need to niche.
You need to do more of this and less of that.
Somewhere amongst all that noise, I stopped asking a much more important question:
What do I actually bloody enjoy doing?
I had hidden myself behind the things I knew I could do.
And if you know me, you’ll know hiding isn’t exactly where I belong.
Green hair isn’t exactly camouflage.
Recently, something shifted.
It wasn’t one massive dramatic moment where suddenly I had the entire future of Digitastic mapped out on a whiteboard.
It was more like lots of little moments finally joining together.
Conversations with business owners. Digital MOTs. Training sessions. Sitting with someone while they explain the thing that’s driving them mad and being able to say, “Right, here’s what we can do.”
And I realised…
I absolutely bloody love this.
I love giving support.
I love giving advice.
I love training people.
I love looking at someone’s business, spotting the thing they can’t see because they’re too close to it, and helping them understand what they could do differently.
I love taking something that feels complicated and making it feel possible.
I love the moment someone’s face changes because suddenly they get it.
That is where my spark is.
I think I’d been trying so hard to work out what Digitastic needed to become that I’d forgotten to look at what it had always been.
It was never really about the software.
It was never about being the person who could just build the thing behind the scenes.
It was about helping people feel more confident with the digital side of their business.
Helping them understand it.
Helping them spot opportunities.
Helping them make better decisions.
And yes, sometimes helping them actually build the bloody thing too.
That’s why the Digital MOTs have felt so right. It’s why I love training. It’s why I can happily sit and talk about someone’s client journey, data, email marketing or systems and suddenly realise hours have disappeared.
The spark wasn’t gone.
I’d just buried it under a pile of things I thought I should be doing.
I think the lightbulb has finally clicked back on.
I don’t have every answer about what this next version of Digitastic looks like yet, and actually, I think that’s part of the fun.
But I know I want more conversations.
More diagnostics.
More Digital MOTs.
More training.
More teaching people the digital skills that help them understand their own businesses.
More helping someone look at their tech and say, “Ohhhhh… THAT’S what it’s doing.”
And more of me.
Not the version of me following somebody else’s script for what a business owner is supposed to look like.
Actual Alex.
The slightly chaotic, green-haired, tech-loving woman who gets ridiculously excited when she spots a way to make something simpler.
Turns out she was still here all along.
The light was just a little dim.
Now it’s back on.