The Eeyore moment: When You Realize You’re Actually Building Something

(it's kind of what i imagine)

An unexpected little breakthrough about numbness, teamwork, and getting one paw closer to home and happiness. Sometimes a moment catches you off guard, and you don’t immediately know what to do with it. You don’t necessarily cry. You don’t jump out of your chair. You don’t have some huge, cinematic reaction where the music swells, the camera zooms in, and suddenly everything makes sense.

Sometimes you just sit there, look at your screen, and think: Wait a damn minute. Is this actually happening? That has been me lately.

I’ve been working on so many different things that sometimes I have to stop and remind myself what I’ve actually accomplished. I’ve been building my online presence, working on my links and my website, blogging, developing my media kit, setting up creator platforms, and figuring out how to turn the things I already do into opportunities that can actually support me. My podcast is live. I’ve been working on Rawberto: So Long Story Short. Smiles Fur Miles continues to be part of the bigger picture. I’ve been building my presence as a creator, exploring brand partnerships, and finding new ways to bring my work to people who might connect with it.

I was approved for Fansly. I got accepted onto Cameo. I’ve been creating and publishing content, getting things organized, and making decisions about how I want to present myself professionally. And somewhere in the middle of all that, I had a moment. Not the kind of moment I would necessarily recognize from the outside. More like a quiet realization that something I have been working toward is beginning to take shape.

Apparently, I’m a Dog Daddy and Content Creator

One of the things that made me laugh was figuring out how to describe myself professionally. I’ve spent so much time thinking about individual parts of what I do. Founder. Creator. Advocate. Podcast host. Dog dad. Business owner. Storyteller. All of these things are true, but how do you bring them together without making your professional identity sound like somebody dumped an entire résumé into a blender?

Enter: Dog Daddy & Content Creator. And honestly? I loved it. It connected so many things at once. My relationship with Riley Grace. My work with Smiles Fur Miles. My interest in animal advocacy. My content, storytelling, and the opportunities I want to pursue with brands. It wasn’t about finding a cute title. It was about finding language that could communicate what I do while leaving room for everything I’m building toward.

Then came Cameo. I was setting up my profile, looking through categories, trying to figure out where I belonged in a menu that apparently contained every profession known to humanity. Creators, animals, influencers, podcasts, bloggers, motivational speakers, musicians, comedians, real estate… At one point, I genuinely wondered if I should select real estate just because I have plans involving a real estate license. You know, why not throw another plotline into the mix? But underneath the joking around was a real question: Which part of me should people see first? I eventually settled on a direction that connected my identity as a creator with my work around animals. My bio brought the rest together: founder of Smiles Fur Miles, podcast host, animal advocate, and someone who wants to tell real stories with purpose.

And then Cameo suggested a starting price of $25 for fan videos. Twenty-five dollars. I remember looking at the screen and thinking, Oh. Wow. It wasn’t that I thought $25 was some enormous amount of money. It was that I hadn’t known what to expect, and seeing a platform recommend that starting price made me stop and reconsider how I had been thinking about the value of my work. It reminded me of another conversation about my media kit and creator pricing. I had been looking at certain numbers and wondering whether they were reasonable, while the feedback I was getting was that I might have been undervaluing what I bring to the table. I’ve had thousands of followers across platforms. I’ve seen millions of views across my content. I’ve built an audience, created things people watch and engage with, and continued showing up even when the bigger picture wasn’t always clear.

Sometimes the numbers are right there, and you still don’t fully register what they represent. You can spend so much time doing the work that you forget to look at the work. I’m not going to pretend that a suggested price guarantees bookings or that an approval automatically means everything will take off. That’s not the point. The point is that I am finally giving myself the opportunity to find out what is possible instead of deciding in advance that I should expect less. And that feels different.

Then Eeyore Showed Up    

This is the part that probably makes the least sense until you understand how my brain works. I was looking for an emoji to express how I felt. You would think this would be easy. There are thousands of emojis. We have faces for practically every emotion known to humanity. Somewhere in that little keyboard, there has to be something that says exactly what you’re feeling. Except I kept looking at them and thinking, No. Not that one. 

(credit disney/google images)

 Some were too happy. Some were too sad. Some didn’t quite capture it. I knew what I was trying to express, but I couldn’t find the right little face for it. Then, almost immediately, I thought of Eeyore. Of course. Eeyore. The blue donkey with the perpetually melancholy expression, the quiet observations, and the occasional little smile that somehow makes the whole thing even more endearing. I found pictures of Eeyore smiling, and something about that felt right. Not because I was necessarily sad. Not because I wanted to turn the moment into a joke about being miserable. It was something more specific than that. I’ve been feeling emotionally numb lately. I’m aware of it, and I’m aware that my reactions don’t always match what I might expect them to be. I can recognize that something is exciting or meaningful without necessarily experiencing a huge emotional response to it.

And that can be a strange thing to explain. You can be happy about something and not feel fireworks. You can recognize that you’ve accomplished something important without immediately feeling overwhelmed by pride. You can know that you’re making progress while still feeling relatively quiet on the inside. The absence of a big reaction doesn’t automatically mean the moment means nothing to you. I can see the work I’ve been putting in. I can recognize the opportunities opening up. I can look at what is happening and understand that it’s worth acknowledging, even if my emotions aren’t showing up in the way I might expect.

So there I was, looking at Eeyore, thinking, Yes. That’s the one. A little sad-looking smile that somehow captures something a regular emoji couldn’t. And then I realized how fitting the whole thing was. Because sometimes life doesn’t feel like a triumphant movie montage. Sometimes it feels like doing the next thing on your list, taking care of your responsibilities, figuring out a problem, updating a profile, and then realizing that somewhere along the way, you’ve made progress. Sometimes you don’t feel like the hero standing on top of the mountain. Sometimes you’re just Eeyore, looking around and quietly realizing that you’re still here, and things are happening. And maybe that’s enough for that particular moment.

The Part Where I Break the Fourth Wall

Have you ever watched Modern Family and noticed how a character will suddenly look directly into the camera? Everyone else is still in the middle of the scene, living their lives, saying their lines, making their mistakes. But for a second, the character looks at the audience as if to say, Are you seeing this? Is this really what we’re doing right now? That’s what this moment feels like to me. I’m in the middle of my own life, trying to get things done, and then suddenly I’m aware of myself doing it. I stop and look around.

I’m building a podcast. I’m working on my blog. I’m developing my creator presence. I’m setting up new platforms, organizing my business, working on brand opportunities, and figuring out how all these different pieces can support the bigger picture. I’m thinking about pricing, positioning, storytelling, and how to make the most of the opportunities in front of me. And then there’s Riley Grace, who has finished eating and is looking over at me while I’m sitting at my desk talking through everything. She’s probably wondering when Daddy is finally going to take her for a walk.

Meanwhile, Daddy is over here trying to make money. Priorities, apparently. LOL. And in the middle of all of it, I get this strange little moment of awareness. Look at you. Look at what you’re doing. Look at how many things you’ve been trying to bring together. Look at how much thought you’re putting into building something that can eventually become more stable, more sustainable, and more than just a collection of projects scattered across the internet. It’s not that everything is suddenly figured out. It’s not that all the pieces are finished or that the future is guaranteed. It’s that I can finally see more of the pieces taking shape at the same time.

And I think sometimes we move so quickly from one task to the next that we don’t give ourselves a chance to notice that. We finish one thing, move immediately to another, solve the next problem, open another tab, answer another question, and keep going. Then we wonder why we don’t feel like we’ve accomplished anything. Meanwhile, the evidence is sitting right in front of us.

Turns Out, I’m Not Doing This Alone

Here’s another thing I’ve been thinking about. People sometimes ask how I manage to do so many things. And I understand the question. From the outside, it might look like I’m somehow managing all these different projects by myself. But I’m not doing everything alone. I have tools. I have resources. I have conversations that help me think through decisions. I use different AI tools for different kinds of brainstorming, feedback, and problem-solving. I compare ideas, challenge suggestions, decide what fits, and keep refining things until they feel right for what I’m trying to build.

Sometimes one tool helps me see a possibility that I hadn’t considered. Another helps me organize an idea. Another gives me language that clicks into place. And sometimes I bring those ideas together and realize that the answer was hiding in the combination. That’s what happened with my professional identity. That’s what happened with the blog and media-kit work. And that’s part of what made this moment feel so significant to me.

It wasn’t just that a tool suggested a good title or that someone gave me a useful answer. It was that I could see my own ideas becoming clearer through the process. I was still making the decisions. I was still choosing what represented me. I was still the one saying, Yes, that’s it, or No, that’s not what I’m trying to say. The tools didn’t create my life, my story, or my goals. They helped me work with what I brought to the table. And there is something genuinely exciting about realizing that I can use the resources available to me to make progress on things that once felt much harder to organize. Teamwork makes the dream work, right? Except the team doesn’t have to look the way people expect. Sometimes it’s people. Sometimes it’s technology. Sometimes it’s a combination of different tools, ideas, and perspectives that help you move forward. What matters is that I’m learning how to use what I have available to build what I’m working toward. And I’m allowed to be proud of that.

The Picture Has Always Been Home + Happiness

I keep coming back to the same thing. Home and happiness. That’s the goal. Not collecting platforms just to say I have them. Not creating a hundred different profiles without a reason. Not trying to look busy for the sake of looking busy. I want to build something that supports my life. I want to create opportunities from my content, my storytelling, my work with dogs, my business, and the experiences that have shaped me. I want to explore partnerships that make sense, develop projects that matter to me, and find ways to make the work sustainable. I want Smiles Fur Miles to mean something beyond a business name. I want my podcast to have room for the real stories, the difficult parts, the funny parts, and the things people don’t always know how to talk about.

"I want to continue creating without having to pretend that every day is a breakthrough."

Because some days are productive. Some days are difficult. Some days are a combination of both, with a dog waiting for a walk and a ridiculous number of tabs open on the computer. And some days, something small happens that makes you look at the whole picture differently. For me, that little moment involved a Cameo profile, a suggested price, a professional title that finally clicked, and a picture of Eeyore smiling. It sounds almost silly when I list it that way. But the meaning wasn’t in any one of those things by itself. It was in what they brought together. The recognition that I am building a professional identity. The realization that I may have been undervaluing some of the things I can offer. The awareness that I can be emotionally numb and still recognize progress. The understanding that I have resources, tools, and a growing system to help me keep moving. And the reminder that I don’t have to wait until everything is perfect before I acknowledge that something is changing. I’m still working toward the bigger goal. There are still things to finish, opportunities to pursue, and decisions to make. But I can see the direction more clearly now. And that’s worth something.

   So Long Story Short… listen to first ep here 😉

I was trying to find an emoji. I found Eeyore. I got accepted onto Cameo, saw a suggested starting price of $25, and had one of those moments where I stopped and reconsidered how I was looking at my own work. I thought about the podcast, the blog, the business, the content, the platforms, the people and tools helping me think things through, and the bigger picture I’ve been trying to build. I thought about how strange it can feel to recognize progress when your emotions aren’t necessarily keeping pace with it. And I thought about how, sometimes, you have to step outside your own story for a second and look back at yourself.

Not to judge yourself. Not to demand that you feel more, do more, or become some polished version of who you think you’re supposed to be.

insert my inner ADHD-monologue here  "Just to notice. To see the work. To acknowledge the direction. To remember why you started. And then, when you’re ready, to get back to it. Because Riley Grace still needs her walk. The next project isn’t going to finish itself. There’s content to create, work to do, and a future I’m still building. So no, this isn’t the part where everything magically falls into place. This is the part where I notice that I’m still putting the pieces together. And maybe that’s the part worth remembering. Maybe, if i can remember and even sometimes recall, thanks for noticing me, i mean it i wouldn’t be here i mean maybe but not here on this platform lol i am not so craving q bag of hot cheetos,  I don't have them all the time, but one because, you know, I just don't really have a little time. And then two. because they're actually still hot for me, like the regular cheaters. Like, I've been eating them since birth and nothing. But, oh my god, I said, like, at their hand form, like, gasping for air. But that's happened in the body, the human body, the trauma and everything like that. It's wild. but it does. And flight or flight mode. just wow.

Home and happiness, We are so getting there- One paw at a time.