The Power of Aloneness: How Retreating Into Myself Turned My Voice Into Income

There was a time when my life looked like it was working. I had finished my degree, received funding, made a film, written a book, and begun building what people like to call a personal brand. From the outside, it all made sense. It looked coherent. Successful, even.

Inside, I was lost.

I didn’t yet know what to do with all of me. My qualifications, my storytelling, my film work, my ideas, my lived experience were all present, but they hadn’t found their centre. I didn’t know what my voice was for. I just knew I had one, and that it mattered.

So I did what many women do when clarity is missing. I stayed busy.

I filled my calendar with movement. Networking events. Coffee catch-ups. Conversations that sounded important but rarely went anywhere. I listened to everyone who had an opinion about what I should do next, and because I had no inner anchor, I followed every suggestion. I walked into rooms without leadership, and this is because I didn’t know why I was there. I was visible, active, engaged, and yet nothing was landing.

The hardest truth to admit was this. For all the effort, all the motion, all the showing up, I wasn’t making any money.

This is the part we don’t say out loud. You can be accomplished and exhausted. Qualified and confused. Visible and financially stuck. I was burning energy and calling it progress. Burning time and calling it purpose. Meanwhile, my life felt scattered and my bank account reflected the same disorder.

Eventually, the exhaustion caught up with me–the kind that comes from being disconnected from yourself. I was missing moments with my children while telling myself I was building something meaningful. I was chasing clarity in other people’s rooms instead of my own inner one.

And then I stopped. I stopped because I had nothing left to give.

Retreating was not a branding decision. It was survival. I pulled back from events, from noise, from filling my calendar just to feel relevant. I retreated into my home and into my actual life. I went to the beach on weekdays. I drank coffee in silence. I spent long hours doing nothing that looked productive. I played with my children. I made home important again.

From the outside, it might have looked like I was disappearing. Internally, something was finally settling.

As the noise faded, my voice became clearer. It became steadier in truth–with no one advising me, directing me, or projecting onto me, I could finally hear myself think. I began to understand what I actually had to offer, how my story connected to my work, and why my voice existed in the first place.

Aloneness refined me.

We live in a culture that worships visibility and constant movement, especially for women. We are taught that if we are not networking, collaborating, posting, or showing up somewhere, we are falling behind. But what we rarely acknowledge is that too much external input can drown out your inner authority. When you never withdraw, you never integrate. When you never sit alone with your story, it never becomes wisdom. 

And wisdom is what people trust. It is what people follow. It is what people pay for.

When I eventually re-entered the world, I did so differently. I moved with clarity instead of urgency. I chose discernment over exposure. Not every invitation deserved a yes. Not every opportunity was aligned. Because I had retreated, I could finally tell the difference.

And this is where everything changed.

My voice stopped leaking energy. It stopped performing and started leading. It became integrated, grounded, and clear. And in that clarity, my voice became sustainable. It became income. It became a livelihood rooted in truth rather than hustle. Today, I am paid thousands to speak and hundreds for an hour of coaching, not because I learned how to market louder, but because I learned how to listen deeper. This is the power of aloneness.

 Your voice does not become powerful in noise.

It becomes powerful in quiet. Aloneness is not withdrawal from life; it is a return to it. A return to self leadership. A return to the voice that knows where it belongs.

If your calendar is full but your direction feels empty, if you are listening to everyone else but no longer trusting yourself, this is not a call to do more. It is a call to retreat. To sit long enough to hear your own voice rise without competition.

Because when you return, you will not just speak louder. You will speak truer. And your voice will finally know how to carry you.