I almost didn’t go to this year’s Summercamp.

Business hasn’t been going the way I wanted and when you’re insecure about money, a weekend away can feel like a luxury you can’t justify. I even tried to get a refund. When that didn’t happen, I had to sit with my frustration and regulate my emotions so I could arrive without a chip on my shoulder.

And yet… this year turned out to be the most insightful one of all. It wasn’t a weekend of misty-eyed wonder like my first visit four years ago. It was a weekend of rain, mud, and note-taking. It mirrored perfectly where I am in business now — no longer a wide-eyed beginner, but someone learning to be pragmatic and brave at the same time.

Below are seven lessons from a very wet weekend that mirror the reality of running a business. Each one came from a real moment at camp — the kind of moment that sticks to your boots (literally) and your brain.

1. You Can Arrive Drenched and Still Show Up

The weekend began with one of those crisp, golden autumn mornings that make you think everything’s going to be idyllic (and yes, I checked the weather forecast and knew it wouldn’t be like that). Once I parked my car, I could see the dark clouds gathering and by the time I reached my tent it was pouring. A volunteer sent me in completely the wrong direction and I schlepped across a muddy field with all my bags, arriving soaked through. My first interaction at camp was a playful telling-off for his map-reading skills. We laughed.

It set the tone. Business rarely starts with a cinematic opening either. We all arrive late, wet, confused, underprepared. What matters is showing up anyway, laughing a little at the chaos and getting on with it. It’s a small, practical kind of resilience.

2. The Honeymoon Ends, but the Work Gets Deeper

Activities I’d loved in previous years just didn’t land this time. The menopause circle that had me in stitches last year felt way more serious this year. Even the famous quiz – my personal highlight before – didn’t spark the same excitement.

But my notebook filled up faster than ever. Every talk I attended was excellent. Every workshop I chose gave me something valuable. The magic had shifted from novelty to depth.

Entrepreneurship does that too. The adrenaline of “I’m starting something!” fades. What you’re left with is craft, learning, process. If you don’t recognise the shift, you can think you’ve “lost” something when really you’ve levelled up.

3. Position Yourself by What You Believe

One workshop asked us to stand up and introduce ourselves not by our job title but by what we believe in and how it shapes the work we do. Watching people share was electrifying — some spoke about justice, some about creativity, some about re-imagining business. It challenged me to articulate my own beliefs instead of hiding behind bullet points.

It also made me dig deeper and examine the WHYs of my own business and all the things that motivate me. I haven’t nailed it yet, but it showed me how powerful belief-driven positioning can be. When you’re rooted in what you stand for, comparison and envy lose some of their grip. You stop performing for approval and start communicating from conviction.

4. A Liminal Life Is a Choice

Another session was about living life differently. It reminded me that I chose this liminal life — entrepreneurship as a self-directed social experiment. There are so many liminal aspects in my life, it feels like the only constant is its shifting nature, but if I’m completely honest, this is all my own doing.

It’s frustrating at times. It can feel like you’re floating between worlds with no permanent home. But it’s also freeing. I could have a safe, predictable nine-to-five. Instead, I’m learning to embrace the in-between. This workshop gave me language for something I’d been feeling but hadn’t named.

5. Face the Trigger, Practise the Skill

I almost skipped the “show up on camera without cringe” workshop because it triggered all my insecurities.

Creating video content to promote my business makes me deeply uncomfortable (interestingly, I have no issue creating videos as part of a course content creation) and I almost convinced myself that I was exhausted and needed a nap, just so I didn’t have to attend. In previous years I would have let myself off the hook.

This year I went anyway. I practised. It helped me so much (plus it gave me permission to finally buy the tech I’d been eyeing up).

Growth doesn’t wait for you to feel ready. It starts the moment you do the uncomfortable thing and realise the world doesn’t end. That lesson alone was worth the weekend.

6. Find the People Doing What You Want to Do

For the first time ever, I attended a workshop run by someone teaching business owners how to create group programmes — exactly the terrain I’m in. I slipped into a chair near the back, still feeling like an outsider, and by the end was scribbling notes furiously. Afterwards, while queuing for coffee, I struck up a chat with another woman doing almost exactly what I do. We compared stories, swapped tips, and laughed about the parallels in our journeys. I left that conversation buzzing.

Even when you feel like an outsider, there are kindred spirits. Sometimes you just have to look harder, or choose sessions strategically, to find them. It’s not always about having a “tribe” waiting for you; sometimes it’s about building one tiny conversation at a time.

7. Hold the Rain and the Rainbow Together

This weekend was a wash-out, but there were rainbows — literal ones — after the storms. Standing there in my muddy boots, coffee in hand, looking at a double rainbow arcing over the fields, it hit me: this is entrepreneurship.

The downpours are real. So are the rainbows. The skill is holding both at once: being pragmatic about the mud while still dreaming bravely about the sky. Picking up valuable breadcrumbs from workshops and talks was such an important part of the weekend, but I needed a reminder that every now and again we need to look up from the ground and see the bigger picture.

Closing Thoughts

Four years ago I arrived at Summercamp misty-eyed and full of grand plans. This year I arrived wet, frustrated and carrying a heavier dose of reality. And yet, I left with the most insight of all — a reminder that the messy middle isn’t failure, it’s the work.

If you’re also somewhere in that liminal space — not a beginner anymore, not “arrived” yet — I hope these lessons encourage you to keep showing up, keep learning, and keep looking up at the rainbows when they appear.

I’d love to hear your own “messy middle” stories. What lessons have you learned lately about entrepreneurship that surprised you?