I have been meaning to write this blog all year, and it feels right that it finally poured out of me now because this season always seems to hold a mirror up to who we are, how much we carry, and how deeply we need softness. This November challenged me in ways I did not expect. At Outback Linen, we have shipped more than five hundred orders, and the linen has flowed out of the warehouse and through my house to the point where I swear I was starting to feel like linen myself. We sold more than two hundred mystery boxes, and we are sending out the Red Shirt pre-orders this Friday. I am even flying to Brisbane to personally make sure they get out the door, because when you build a brand rooted in values and care and in women feeling seen, you do not cut corners.
But outside the business, life is still life. School is about to finish. Mums everywhere are preparing for seven weeks of full-time kids. Christmas is looming. The mental load is rising. There are lunch boxes to manage, sports break-ups to attend, concerts, travel plans, work deadlines, and suddenly it is 2:56 in the afternoon and I need to get the kids from school. Somehow we are meant to stay afloat in all of that.
Last Monday it hit me. I was packing orders alone and thinking that I should be doing Facebook ads, that I should have already written that email, that I could not remember the last time I went to the gym, and wondering why I could not keep up. The pressure and the guilt and the exhaustion finally broke open. I cried, and it was the kind of cry where your body says it has had enough. Underneath all of it was this quiet whisper reminding me that I was not living in my values and that I was giving from an empty cup.
Then something shifted. Help arrived. Out of nowhere, and technically from Facebook Marketplace, two German backpackers named Tom and Heilke became my fairy god-people. They helped us catch up. They helped with mowing and with all my outside jobs. They brought lightness into a week that had felt far too heavy to hold. After that I bought new linen sheets, and if you have been here long enough you know the story about the mum in Longreach with two kids under two who woke up one morning exhausted and realising she did not want sheets, she wanted to feel worthy of them.
I trained Bronte, a beautiful local mum, to become our Monday girl. My house was ready for the rental inspection. The warehouse was under control. The chaos softened. Last night I sat on my couch feeling so grateful and thinking that it might have been one of the best days of my life. Not because everything was perfect, but because I felt supported and held and back in alignment with myself and my values. It reminded me that when I feel good, my family feels it, my team feels it, and my community feels it. Feeling good is not selfish. It influences everything around you. It radiates.
Then my creativity came back. Something wild happened and my creative spark returned. An idea for a new design arrived the moment I felt safe enough to let inspiration in, and I honestly cannot remember the last time I felt that kind of spark. It reminded me that we create from overflow, not depletion, that we shine brightest when we feel worthy, that we give our best when we have given to ourselves first, and that wearing something that makes you feel good is not just clothing. It is a return to self. When I am in linen and moving with ease and breathing freely and feeling like me, everything shifts. The boys feel it. My work feels it. My ideas feel it. This is what happens when you live in your values of comfort and quality and softness and worthiness instead of living in survival mode.
This time of year is a lot for everyone, so let this be your reminder to put yourself first, to say yes to help and allow yourself to receive it, to wear the thing that makes you feel worthy, to do one small thing that fills your cup, and to remember that you are allowed to feel good. When you feel good, you shine differently, and that shine reaches your family, your home, your work, and your community. Everything shifts when you shift. Sometimes the smallest change, like new sheets or a fresh outfit or a slow moment, can completely change the trajectory of your week.
Love,
Sarah xx
A Founder’s Honest Reflection
I have been meaning to write this blog all year, and it feels right that it finally poured out of me now because this season always seems to hold a mirror up to who we are, how much we carry, and how deeply we need softness. This November challenged me in ways I did not expect. At Outback Linen, we have shipped more than five hundred orders, and the linen has flowed out of the warehouse and through my house to the point where I swear I was starting to feel like linen myself. We sold more than two hundred mystery boxes, and we are sending out the Red Shirt pre-orders this Friday. I am even flying to Brisbane to personally make sure they get out the door, because when you build a brand rooted in values and care and in women feeling seen, you do not cut corners.
But outside the business, life is still life. School is about to finish. Mums everywhere are preparing for seven weeks of full-time kids. Christmas is looming. The mental load is rising. There are lunch boxes to manage, sports break-ups to attend, concerts, travel plans, work deadlines, and suddenly it is 2:56 in the afternoon and I need to get the kids from school. Somehow we are meant to stay afloat in all of that.
Last Monday it hit me. I was packing orders alone and thinking that I should be doing Facebook ads, that I should have already written that email, that I could not remember the last time I went to the gym, and wondering why I could not keep up. The pressure and the guilt and the exhaustion finally broke open. I cried, and it was the kind of cry where your body says it has had enough. Underneath all of it was this quiet whisper reminding me that I was not living in my values and that I was giving from an empty cup.
Then something shifted. Help arrived. Out of nowhere, and technically from Facebook Marketplace, two German backpackers named Tom and Heilke became my fairy god-people. They helped us catch up. They helped with mowing and with all my outside jobs. They brought lightness into a week that had felt far too heavy to hold. After that I bought new linen sheets, and if you have been here long enough you know the story about the mum in Longreach with two kids under two who woke up one morning exhausted and realising she did not want sheets, she wanted to feel worthy of them.
I trained Bronte, a beautiful local mum, to become our Monday girl. My house was ready for the rental inspection. The warehouse was under control. The chaos softened. Last night I sat on my couch feeling so grateful and thinking that it might have been one of the best days of my life. Not because everything was perfect, but because I felt supported and held and back in alignment with myself and my values. It reminded me that when I feel good, my family feels it, my team feels it, and my community feels it. Feeling good is not selfish. It influences everything around you. It radiates.
Then my creativity came back. Something wild happened and my creative spark returned. An idea for a new design arrived the moment I felt safe enough to let inspiration in, and I honestly cannot remember the last time I felt that kind of spark. It reminded me that we create from overflow, not depletion, that we shine brightest when we feel worthy, that we give our best when we have given to ourselves first, and that wearing something that makes you feel good is not just clothing. It is a return to self. When I am in linen and moving with ease and breathing freely and feeling like me, everything shifts. The boys feel it. My work feels it. My ideas feel it. This is what happens when you live in your values of comfort and quality and softness and worthiness instead of living in survival mode.
This time of year is a lot for everyone, so let this be your reminder to put yourself first, to say yes to help and allow yourself to receive it, to wear the thing that makes you feel worthy, to do one small thing that fills your cup, and to remember that you are allowed to feel good. When you feel good, you shine differently, and that shine reaches your family, your home, your work, and your community. Everything shifts when you shift. Sometimes the smallest change, like new sheets or a fresh outfit or a slow moment, can completely change the trajectory of your week.
Love,
Sarah xx