Your Small Business Still Exists (Even When You’re Not Producing)

Reflections on burnout, slow seasons, and trusting the quiet parts of creativity.

When Your Output Slows Down… Are You Still a Business?

I’ve been thinking a lot about this question lately. As someone who runs a small handmade business and a private therapy practice, it’s a question that tends to creep in anytime I take a break or pull back from production.

In early 2025, after a whirlwind of winter holiday markets, custom orders, and nonstop stitching, I hit a wall. A real one. Not the “oh I’m kinda tired” kind—the kind where your body says “no more,” and your brain doesn’t even argue. I had to stop. And what followed was… quiet.

I didn’t launch anything. I didn’t update the shop. I didn’t push myself to meet self-imposed deadlines.

And I’ll admit it—I felt kind of invisible.

In a culture (and economy) that values constant output, visibility, and “growth,” it’s hard to shake the feeling that if you’re not producing, you’re disappearing. But I want to say this, both to myself and anyone else who makes things:

Your small business still exists—even when you’re not actively making or selling.

Let’s talk about that.

Burnout Isn’t a Failure—It’s a Signal

Here’s what led to my forced slow-down: between November and December of last year, I participated in twelve (!!) holiday markets while also sewing for wholesale partners and maintaining my therapy caseload. It was joyful and affirming and honestly, kind of brutal.

I love meeting Paper Crane Theory customers in person. I love making beautiful, useful things and seeing them head off to their new homes. But love doesn’t prevent burnout. And this was burnout, full stop.

So I decided to take one month off from production.

That one month turned into many.

At first, I felt all the guilt:

  • What if people forget about my work?

  • What if they think I quit?

  • Will anyone care when I start back up again?

But then, over a lunch with my friend Bethany (shout out to Beenanza Designs), she said something I’ll never forget:

“Jess, Paper Crane Theory still exists even if you’re not constantly pumping out new stuff.”

YES. That was it. That reminder helped me begin to loosen the grip of urgency and reconnect with what I actually want this business to feel like.

You Are More Than What You Produce

We internalize so many messages about worth and productivity. And let’s be real: if you’re a maker, especially a woman or femme-identifying person, you’ve probably felt the pressure to “prove” your legitimacy by constantly releasing new collections, posting consistently, keeping up with the algorithm, showing you're busy.

But that’s not the only way to run a business. And it’s definitely not the only way to be a human.

I’ve come to realize that the quiet seasons—when I’m not releasing new goods—are still incredibly important to the life of Paper Crane Theory. In fact, they’re essential. Those seasons are when I:

  • Reconnect with the joy of making (like sewing clothes just for myself)

  • Explore new materials and techniques without pressure

  • Reflect on what I actually want to make next

  • Restore my nervous system so I don’t end up in another unsustainable sprint

None of those things are flashy. They don’t result in a “new drop.” But they’re deeply connected to the health of this business.

Let’s Be Honest: Burnout Is Rampant in Small Creative Businesses

It’s not just me. Burnout is everywhere—especially among makers and small product-based business owners. We love what we do, which makes it harder to say no. We want to support our communities, say yes to collaborations, help friends with their launches, vend at that last-minute event, restock that wholesale order even though we’re exhausted…

And then suddenly, we realize we haven’t eaten lunch in 3 days, or that we feel vaguely sick all the time, or that the idea of sewing one more tote bag makes us want to cry.

I know this story intimately. I’ve lived it. And I’ve supported therapy clients through it too.

We often wait until we’re fully depleted before allowing ourselves to stop. But I’m learning (slowly, awkwardly, with a lot of reminders from my partner and my business coach) that rest doesn’t have to be a reward. It can be part of the rhythm.

Behind the Scenes Still Counts as Business

One thing that helped me start to feel connected to my business again was giving myself credit for the invisible labor I was doing—even when no new products were hitting the shop.

In the past few months, I’ve:

  • Taken sewing and pattern-making classes to sharpen my skills

  • Played with secondhand fiber materials just for fun

  • Reorganized my home studio to make space for what’s next

  • Set up (finally) some back-end systems with the help of a business coach

  • Had honest convos with myself about what to say yes and no to

None of that work is visible on Instagram. But it matters.

So if you’re reading this and in a slow season—maybe you’re navigating burnout, or tending to your mental health, or parenting through a tough phase, or just not feeling it creatively—I want you to know: what you’re doing behind the scenes still counts. You’re still showing up. Your business still exists.

Creativity Is a Cycle, Not a Conveyor Belt

One of the weirdest parts of being a maker is that our creative process can get commodified real fast. We start out making because it feels good. But as soon as it becomes a business, the pressure kicks in:

  • What’s the next launch?

  • Will this sell?

  • How do I keep up with trends?

It’s easy to forget that creativity doesn’t thrive on pressure. It thrives on space, curiosity, and time.

During my recent pause, I returned to making clothes just for me. No product photos. No deadlines. Just the joy of stitching something and wearing it. That simple act reminded me why I started Paper Crane Theory in the first place.

And honestly? That reconnection did more for the future of this business than any Instagram post ever could.

You Don’t Have to Be “On” All the Time

Here’s something I’ve been saying to my therapy clients lately—and trying to remember for myself:
You are allowed to take your foot off the gas.
You don’t have to be “on” all the time for your work to matter.

Your shop can be quiet for a few weeks (or months). You can take a break from making. You can rest. You can try something new. You can protect your joy. And you can still be a serious, real, amazing business owner.

The people who love your work will still be here when you come back.

What’s Next for Paper Crane Theory?

After a long pause, I’m feeling ready to slowly dip back in. I’ll be releasing a fresh drop of goods mid-August (eep!), and moving toward a rhythm of shop updates every other month. There’ll be some fun seasonal sales along the way too.

If you’re local, you can find some of my clothing and accessories in person at:

  • Billie Jean Vintage – Meghan is a total gem and curates a beautiful collection of vintage finds

  • Thirty Odd – another amazing local spot filled with creative work and unique gifts

    And if you’re interested in learning with me, I’ll be teaching a few sewing classes at The Makery, Burlington’s secondhand art supply store. Come say hi—I’d love to meet you!

To My Fellow Makers: You’re Still Legit

If you’ve been wondering whether your business still “counts” when you’re not launching, not posting, not selling—please hear this:

It does. You do.

You’re still a business even when your shop is on pause.
You’re still a maker even when you haven’t made anything in a while.
You’re still allowed to be tired.
You’re still allowed to take care of yourself.

You are not a machine. You’re a creative human running a business in a chaotic world. And that’s enough.

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