I was speaking with a fellow business owner recently, someone right at the beginning of their journey, and they admitted something I hear more often than you’d expect. They told me they weren’t entirely sure what a consultant actually does. Not the polished, corporate version (that's not me), the real, human, day‑to‑day version. It did make me smile, because the picture most people have in their heads is usually miles away from what the work actually looks like.

There’s a point in the week where everything starts to feel like too much. You haven't been productive, and you haven't made inroads into all those things you needed to do. The personal bits, the business bits, the things you meant to do yesterday, the things you promised someone last month… it all sits in the same headspace.

You know that feeling when a new week rolls in and everything feels a little bit fresher? That’s where we are now. And with July almost here, it’s one of those natural pause points — the kind that makes you look at where you are and where you thought you’d be by now.

There’s a moment people don’t really talk about when it comes to going self‑employed. Not the moment you register the business or hand in your notice — those are the visible (scary) bits. I mean the moment long before that, when you’re sitting with this quiet feeling that something in your life doesn’t quite fit anymore. You can still do the job, you can still show up, you can still tick the boxes… but there’s this growing sense that you want something different. Something th

When someone tells me they’ve been thinking about starting a business, it rarely comes out confidently. It usually arrives in a quieter, almost cautious way — like they’re testing the idea out loud for the first time and aren’t sure how it’s going to land. There’s often a small laugh, or a quick “It’s nothing really…”, as if they’re already preparing to shrink it down before anyone else can.

I was chatting with someone recently about networking — proper, in‑person networking — and we ended up laughing about how often technology seems to pick the exact wrong moment to let us down. You know the situation. You’re having a great conversation, you both decide to swap details, you reach for your phones… and suddenly you’re waving your device around like you’re trying to find satellite signal in the middle of a field.

The truth about what actually matters when you’re just starting out When someone tells me they’re thinking about starting a business, it’s rarely said with confidence. It’s usually something softer, like: “I’ve had this idea for a while…” or “I keep coming back to something, but I don’t know if it’s anything.” or “I feel like I want to do my own thing, but I don’t know where to start.” — this one is incredibly common.

Some signs aren’t practical at all. They’re quieter than that — emotional, energetic, the kind of things you only notice when you stop rushing long enough to pay attention.They tend to show up for people who are sitting in that early idea stage, even if they haven’t said anything out loud yet.

April had that strange, in‑between feeling. Nothing dramatic. Nothing headline‑grabbing. Just a steady tightening that most solo founders could feel in the background of their work. Clients hesitated. Admin crept up. Costs nudged higher. And yet, beneath all of that, there were small signs of where things are heading next. This is the month as it actually felt for one‑person businesses — not the corporate version, not the political version, just the lived‑experience version.

Every now and then, someone reaches out. Sometimes it’s after a chat with a friend. Sometimes it’s because an idea has been hanging around for months, refusing to disappear. Sometimes it’s simply a moment of honesty — “I should probably talk to someone about this.”

Every so often, someone new wanders into my world — maybe through Instagram, maybe through a networking event, maybe because a friend said, “You should follow this guy, he makes business feel less… stressful.” However you arrived here, I’m genuinely glad you did.

Starting a business is one of those things everyone seems to have an opinion on. Friends, family, strangers on the internet — even people who’ve never actually run a business will happily tell you how it should be done.

Running a business can feel like one of the most liberating things in the world — and one of the loneliest. It doesn’t matter whether you’re a dog walker, an accountant, a designer, a tradesperson, or a consultant. Most of us start out the same way: with an idea, a bit of courage, and a willingness to figure things out as we go. And for many people, that journey is taken alone or with one other person by their side.

Some days, it feels like everything in business takes hours. Planning, posting, replying, creating… the list never ends. But every now and then, something reminds me that not everything has to be big or time‑consuming to make a difference. Sometimes it’s the small, almost throwaway moments that actually shift things the most. Like ten minutes.

Sometimes the best business breakthroughs don’t happen in boardrooms or strategy sessions — they happen over a warm drink, a relaxed chat, and the space to say things out loud. That’s exactly why I created Book a Brew with Stu: a friendly, free meeting for founders, early‑stage business owners, and idea‑holders who just need a bit of clarity, reassurance, or direction.

Putting my prices on my website might look like a simple update, but for me, it represents something much deeper about how I want to show up in business. I’ve always believed that working with someone should feel human, honest, and pressure‑free. When someone is thinking about getting support — whether they’re at idea stage or already navigating the early years — they deserve clarity from the very beginning.

Networking has always been one of my favourite parts of being self‑employed. Not because of the traditional “work the room” mindset — that’s never been my style — but because it’s where I meet the people I’m here to help.

Last week, I did something I don’t often do — I went to an evening networking event. Not just any event, but the launch party for the Growth Network Group, owned and run by entrepreneur Sam Pennycook. It’s an online networking community built to bring people together in a way that feels supportive, accessible, and genuinely useful.

Every now and then, life gives you a quiet nudge to step back from the noise — not because something’s wrong, not because you’re overwhelmed, but simply because you feel like it. That’s exactly what happened recently. I took a short break from social media. No big story. No dramatic burnout. Just a gentle instinct to pause.

If we’re going to work together, it feels only fair that you know who I am and where I’ve come from. My name’s Stuart Ashley, and at 53 I’ve lived a working life that’s been anything but linear. I’ve built two very different businesses from scratch, worked inside major UK organisations, and spent more than twenty years navigating the realities of self‑employment — the highs, the lows, and everything in between.