There is a phrase I hear constantly.

It shows up in discovery calls, in introductory emails, in the first ten minutes of almost every Orientation Session I run. It is said casually, almost as a throwaway. But when I hear it, I pay very close attention.

"At the moment, I just..."

At the moment, I just send clients a rough welcome email and hope it covers everything. At the moment, I just keep track of everything in my head. At the moment, I just handle decisions as they come up. At the moment, I just do everything myself because it's easier than explaining it to someone else.

Five words. And in those five words, I can hear the whole picture.

What "just" is really saying

On the surface, these sentences sound like practical descriptions of how someone is operating. And they are. But underneath, they are telling a different story entirely.

"Just" is a minimising word. We use it to make something sound smaller, more temporary and more manageable than it actually feels. When a founder says I just wing it, what they often mean is: I have been winging it for longer than I'm comfortable admitting, and I'm not entirely sure when that stops being acceptable.

And "at the moment" is doing its own quiet work too. It's a protective phrase which signals awareness — I know this isn't sustainable — while also creating a little distance from the discomfort of that reality. "At the moment" implies there's a plan to change it, even when there isn't one yet.

Together, those five words reveal something important: a founder who is capable, committed and carrying more than they should have to.

I've been that person too

Before NurtureWorks existed in the form it does today, I worked closely alongside brilliant, heart-led practitioners in the HR, DEI and culture spaces. These were people who were exceptional at their work, and who cared deeply about the impact they were having. And, almost without exception, they were running their businesses largely on instinct, goodwill and an extraordinary capacity to hold a lot of things in their head at once.

I watched what happened when that stopped being enough. As their businesses grew with new clients, so came new complexity and new responsibility. And the systems, structures and foundations that had never quite been put in place? Well, they became pressure points. And those pressure points became the thing that started to drain the joy out of work that had once felt entirely purposeful.

I built NurtureWorks because I knew there had to be a better way through that transition, which both honoured both the ambition to grow and the need to stay grounded in what matters.

The founder who gives so much to others and neglects themself

Here is the version of this that I find most poignant, and the one I encounter most often.

The DEI consultant who delivers transformational inclusion programmes for large organisations — and has no onboarding process for their own clients.

The HR founder who advises businesses on psychological safety and clear communication — and whose own team operates without defined roles or responsibilities.

The culture consultant who helps companies build workplaces where people feel genuinely supported — and who has no one supporting them.

There is no judgement in this observation. It is, in fact, one of the most human things about doing this kind of work. When your expertise is in people and culture and your work is built on relationships, it is easy to pour everything outward. You do brilliant things for your clients while the foundations of your own business remain unbuilt, because you have never quite found the moment to stop and build them.

"At the moment, I just" is the sound of that gap.

What happens if you leave it?

The honest answer is: probably nothing dramatic in the short term. You will keep going, you will keep delivering excellent work, and you will keep finding ways to manage.

But quietly, incrementally, a few things will begin to shift.

Decisions will take longer, because there is no clear framework to make them from. Opportunities will feel harder to evaluate, because your priorities have never quite been defined. Bringing in support, such as a team member, collaborator or contractor, will feel more complicated than it should. Why? Because the way you work has never been fully articulated outside of your own head.

And perhaps most significantly: the work that once felt energising will begin to feel stickier. The passion is still there, but the weight of an unsupported business on top of it changes everything.

This is what I mean when I say stability is the quiet condition that allows everything else to keep working.

"At the moment" doesn't have to last

The reason I find those five words so hopeful and revealing is the "at the moment" part.

It tells me that you already know, on some level, that this is a season rather than a permanent state. You know there is a different way to operate, even if you haven't had the time, headspace or support to find it yet.

That is exactly the point at which working together tends to make the most meaningful difference — when you can sense the pressure building and you would rather address it thoughtfully now, than wait until it demands your attention in a more disruptive way.

The Orientation Session exists for precisely this moment. A focused, strategic conversation designed to look carefully at what is actually happening in your business right now: where the pressure is, where the foundations are missing, and what will make the most meaningful difference at this stage. You leave with clarity and defined next steps.

If any version of "at the moment, I just..." has been living in your vocabulary lately, I'd love to talk.

Because it doesn't have to stay that way.

Find out more about the Orientation Session here