Soft Life, Hard Truths

For a long time, I believed that if I could just find the right side hustle, everything would feel easier.

The right thing would finally relieve the pressure. The right opportunity would unlock flexibility, stability, and breathing room. The right system would make all the effort feel worth it.

So I chased them.

One after another.

And for a while, it felt responsible. Even smart. I wasn’t sitting still. I was trying. I was looking for solutions.

But eventually, I realized something uncomfortable:
The chasing itself was becoming another source of burnout.

For a long time, I believed that if I could just find the right side hustle, everything would feel easier.

The right thing would finally relieve the pressure. The right opportunity would unlock flexibility, stability, and breathing room. The right system would make all the effort feel worth it.

So I chased them.

One after another.

And for a while, it felt responsible. Even smart. I wasn’t sitting still. I was trying. I was looking for solutions.

But eventually, I realized something uncomfortable:
The chasing itself was becoming another source of burnout.

The Promise That Keeps You Hooked

Side hustles are marketed as freedom.

They promise income on your own terms. Flexibility. Control. A way out of financial stress without sacrificing your entire life. And for mothers — especially mothers already stretched thin — that promise is incredibly appealing.

Most side hustle content isn’t built around sustainability. It’s built around urgency.

It assumes you have extra energy. Extra time. Extra mental bandwidth. It assumes you can “grind a little now” without considering what that grind costs when you’re already depleted.

What it doesn’t talk about is how destabilizing it can be to constantly pivot from one thing to another, hoping this will be the one that finally works.

The Emotional Cost of Constant Pivoting

Every new side hustle starts with hope.

Hope that this one will be different. That this one will stick. That this one will finally pay off.

And when it doesn’t — when the returns are slow, inconsistent, or nonexistent — the disappointment doesn’t just disappear. It stacks.

Over time, I noticed how much emotional energy I was spending just deciding what to try next. Researching. Comparing. Second-guessing. Wondering if I was missing something or doing something wrong.

That mental load added to everything else I was already carrying.

Instead of building stability, I was living in a constant state of “almost.” Almost there. Almost working. Almost profitable.

That limbo is exhausting.

Hustle Culture Doesn’t Account for Depletion

A lot of side hustle advice is built on the assumption that effort is the only variable.

If it’s not working, you’re told to:

• Try harder
• Be more consistent
• Show up more
• Optimize more
• Push through resistance

What that advice ignores is capacity.

When you’re already operating in survival mode — emotionally, financially, physically — pushing harder doesn’t create momentum. It creates collapse.

I wasn’t failing because I wasn’t motivated enough.
I was failing because I was depleted.

And depletion changes what’s possible.

The Difference Between Income and Stability

One of the biggest shifts for me was realizing that income alone wasn’t the goal.

Stability was.

Some side hustles technically generate money, but they don’t create stability. They’re inconsistent. Unpredictable. Dependent on constant output or emotional labor.

They keep you hustling, even if the hustle looks quieter or more socially acceptable.

I started asking different questions:

• Does this reduce or increase my stress?
• Does this rely on constant urgency?
• Does this require me to override my nervous system to succeed?
• Does this scale without burning me out?

If the answer was no, it didn’t matter how promising it looked.

Why I Stopped Looking for “Easy”

A lot of side hustle culture is built around shortcuts.

Quick wins. Fast cash. Minimal effort. Passive income (which is rarely passive).

But easy isn’t the same as sustainable.

Easy often requires intensity upfront — long hours, constant learning, emotional investment — and when you’re already exhausted, that intensity comes at a higher cost.

I stopped looking for what was easiest and started looking for what was steady.

What could grow slowly without requiring me to sacrifice my health, my presence, or my sanity?

That shift changed everything.

The Pressure to Monetize Everything

Another thing that quietly wore me down was the pressure to monetize every interest, skill, or moment.

Every hobby became a potential income stream. Every idea turned into a “business opportunity.” Nothing was allowed to exist without productivity attached to it.

That mindset doesn’t create freedom. It creates constant evaluation.

I noticed how often I asked myself, Should I be making money from this? instead of Does this support my life?

Once I started prioritizing the latter, a lot of side hustle noise fell away.

Choosing Boring Over Chaotic

What I’ve learned is that boring income is often the most stabilizing.

Predictable. Repeatable. Low drama.

It may not be exciting. It may not make for flashy social media content. But it supports real life.

Chasing side hustles kept me in a state of constant activation. Choosing steadier paths allowed me to start regulating again.

That regulation matters more than motivation ever did.

This Wasn’t About Quitting — It Was About Choosing Differently

Stopping the chase didn’t mean giving up on income or ambition.

It meant:

• Being honest about my limits
• Respecting my capacity
• Building slowly instead of scrambling
• Letting go of the fantasy that the “right” hustle would save me

I didn’t stop because I was lazy.
I stopped because I was paying attention.

And attention is how stability begins.

If You’re Feeling Stuck in the Cycle

If you’ve been jumping from idea to idea, platform to platform, course to course — you’re not broken.

You’re likely overwhelmed.

And overwhelm doesn’t respond to more options. It responds to clarity.

Sometimes the most supportive thing you can do is stop chasing and start building — quietly, steadily, with intention.

That’s the shift I’m making now.