Earlier this spring, my ceramics teacher and friend gave me three hydrangea shrubs that she removed from the garden bed in front of her studio. They never had a chance to bloom. The deer chomped them down every year. She didn’t even know what color the flowers were, never having seen them bloom.

I love hydrangeas and could envision exactly where they’ll be planted at our new house. The only problem was the garden bed wasn’t ready. We needed to finish the siding on that part of the house and backfill before we could build the beds.

So I bought large fabric planters and filled them with soil until we could transplant them at our new home. They grew healthy leaves and were topped with promising buds. I waited for the mounds of flowers to open.

But instead only a few random flowers opened on each branch. The small buds that were expected to be big beautiful flowers were instead small puffs. They first bloomed as white flowers, and now later in the season they’ve drooped into a soft pink color.

None of this was what I expected. But it was still beautiful.

What I Expected vs. What I Got

I thought blooming meant picture-perfect flowers. Full mounds. Abundant and lush. The reality was subtler. Quieter. Still blooming. Still beautiful. Just in its own way.

That got me thinking about how blooming looks in business. This month (and most of the summer) I’ve been reflecting on how showing up should look in business, and how often those expectations don’t fit my personality or style.

Redefining How I Show Up

For many years, I studied with experts and read what to do to become visible. How to get your name out there. Pretty much everyone is using either Facebook or Instagram. The recommendations are to post often: daily or at least three times a week. Make reels, create carousel images with content that converts, use threads, and so on.

I tried to participate in challenges. Tried to figure out what to say and find a method that felt natural enough for me to actually keep up the momentum.

It left me distracted and drained. Pulled in directions that didn’t feel productive or aligned. Maybe you can relate.

When I discovered that I enjoy writing — emails and blogs — I finally felt at home. This is called long-form content. I can share my thoughts in greater depth. You may have noticed I am wordy. Can’t help it!

In the world of fast-paced feeds, this is slower. Quieter. But still sharing and reaching my audience just the same. Still blooming. And it’s the most sustainable method of anything I’ve tried.

So I’ve decided to embrace this. Email marketing is my main way of connecting, and I’m leaning into it more intentionally. I’ll be emailing more than once a month. And I’m exploring other channels that feel better aligned, like LinkedIn and Pinterest.

Your Bloom Might Look Different

And that’s totally okay. I’m still figuring it out too. Learning as I go. Sharing my experiences to help you as I work my way through.

Maybe you’ve felt pressure to show up in ways that didn’t suit you. I get it. Not everyone blooms the same way.

Different doesn’t mean you’re not as good.
Quieter doesn’t mean your offer doesn’t matter.
Slower doesn’t mean late.

Like my hydrangeas, your bloom might not match the picture you had in mind. But it might be even more beautiful that way. Because it’s your method. What works for you.