There’s something weirdly powerful about trading what you know for what you need. This wasn’t some massive agency project. There was a contract, sure, because boundaries are magic and experience teaches you not to skip them, even when it’s a barter. But there were no branding teams, no endless meetings, no inflated invoices. Just me, stretched out on my oversized, ridiculously comfortable pit couch, agreeing to build a complete digital foundation for my cleaning person in exchange for free cleanings.
(Keith thinks working from the couch is a problem. I think it’s why anything gets done around here.)
At the start, I didn’t think it would be quick. I knew myself too well for that. I knew that if I said yes…if I committed to building this, I wouldn’t be able to half-ass it. I don’t know how to just get by when I care about something. And the second I opened that blank WordPress dashboard, I cared. Not just about the website, but about what it meant. About giving another woman a real shot at building something bigger for herself.
What started as a simple barter turned into a complete, strategic launch: real SEO, real copywriting, real structure. Google Business Profile setup, review generation system, service area targeting, mobile optimization — the whole damn thing. I didn’t just slap up a template and call it a day. I wrote every page by hand. I built every section with a strategy behind it. I thought about the tired mom Googling “move-out cleaning near me” at midnight. I thought about the overwhelmed renter desperate to get their security deposit back. I thought about the small offices, looking for a cleaner they could actually trust.
Every word mattered. Every click mattered. Even the parts no one would see unless they went wrong. Somewhere between writing meta descriptions that no client would ever consciously notice, resizing photos at midnight, and reworking call-to-action buttons for the third time, I realized: I wasn’t just “helping out.” I was building something real. Something that would help another woman stand a little taller, own a little more of her life, and make money on her own terms. Something that would’ve cost her $3,000–$5,000 if she had gone through a “real” marketing agency — but we made it happen out of trust, stubbornness, and survival instincts.
The truth is, this project reminded me of something I forget all the time — especially when life feels messy or slow or like I’m stuck waiting for something bigger: You don’t have to be perfect to be valuable. You don’t have to wait until you have a bigger portfolio, a bigger title, a bigger paycheck. You can build something real with precisely what you have, exactly where you are, right now.
Helping Breana launch her business wasn’t just about websites or SEO or business cards. It was about showing up anyway: tired, imperfect, unsure, and trusting that what I know, what I can do, and the way I care is enough to make a difference. It wasn’t clean. It wasn’t corporate. It was better. It was real.
I didn’t set out to prove anything by building that website. I just wanted to help someone who deserved it — and barter my way into a cleaner house at the same time. But somewhere in the middle of explaining Google’s love/hate relationship with new businesses over text messages, adjusting mobile layouts at 11PM, and second-guessing whether anyone would even notice the work I was pouring in, I remembered:
This is what building a life actually looks like.
It’s not polished or glamorous. It’s not about waiting for permission or a perfect setup. It’s about showing up tired, giving a damn when no one’s clapping, and trusting that the small, invisible things you build still matter. Maybe especially then.
Some of you have contributed to my Venmo, and I just want you to know: I used that money for groceries. It mattered. You mattered.
If you feel like contributing again, or if something in this story hit you in the gut and you want to toss a little love my way, my Venmo is @exhotmess.
As always — absolutely no pressure.
Just gratitude, always.
And if you’re reading this and thinking, “I need someone to help me build my thing,” whether it’s a website, SEO, or just getting your ideas off the ground, I’m open to taking on a few more small website projects.
Reach out if you want to talk about it.