Why You Need to Call in ‘Sick’ From Your Own Company

When we start a business, we pour everything into it—our time, energy, identity, and often our self-worth. In the early years, that’s part of the game. You grind. You hustle. You carry the entire weight of the thing on your shoulders because, well, if you don’t, no one will.

But at some point, a new question will arise—quietly at first, then louder:

Is this business giving me the life I want?
Or…
Am I just working for it?

This isn’t a question you need to ask in year one. In the beginning, your job is to make the thing work—by any means necessary. But later on, if you don’t ask this question, you risk becoming trapped in something that was meant to give you freedom.

And here's the truth:

You are not your business’s employee. Your business is your employee.

It should work for you. Not the other way around.

A business is a tool. A vehicle. A means to an end. Its purpose is to enable you to live the life you actually want—not keep you enslaved to a system of your own making. You gave birth to it. You nurtured it. But like a child, you don’t want to parent it forever. You want it to grow up. To run without you.

And the best way to test whether your business can stand on its own is simple: Step away.

Take a week off. Or two. Call in “sick.” Then watch what happens.

Do the bills go unpaid because no one checks the letterbox? That means it’s time to hire an accountant or automate your finances. Do customer complaints appear on Google because team performance dropped? That means your processes, training, and standards aren’t systemized yet. Do orders fall apart or recipes vary from one order to the next? Then you need SOPs, consistency, documentation—and clarity.

Stepping away exposes fragility. It shows you which parts of the business rely on you—and which can run without your constant presence. That’s not a failure. That’s feedback.

We admire entrepreneurs who proudly “are” their brand. But that identity trap is dangerous. Because when your self-worth is fused with your output, every setback feels like a personal crisis. Every slow month becomes a question of who you are.

You are not your product. Your business is not your personality. It is your system. And systems are meant to serve people—not consume them.

So take the step back. Evaluate. Ask the harder, wiser question:

Does this business still serve the life I want to live?

Because in the end, what’s the point of all this building—if it doesn’t allow you to be?