I spent seven years building my last business.
Almost two decades in the industry.

I never really questioned my direction
until I had to leave.

Before that,
even when things were hard,
it always felt like forward motion.
One thing leading to the next.

Leaving broke something in me.
Not all at once —
just enough that I started questioning
my judgment,
my resilience,
who I actually was without the thing I built.

I wasn’t someone who backed down.
I didn’t know how to reconcile that
with walking away.

Afterward, I disappeared for a while.
Months on the couch.
Not rebuilding.
Not planning.
Just scrolling.
Just trying to feel normal again.
Trying to put my brain back together.

Eventually, I tried small things.
Most of them didn’t work.
But they brought me back to myself.
They reminded me maybe I had something left.

Not a plan.
Not a direction.

Just enough to stay curious.
Just enough to not shut the door completely.

Ramen 9000 never really got the chance
to be what it could be.

Trying it again feels like a test —
not to prove anything,
just to see if I still have it in me,
and what that even looks like now.

I’m sharing this
because there’s a lot we don’t say
while we’re trying to hold everything together.

Because forward motion
doesn’t always mean you’re okay.

And because sometimes
it’s important
to say it out loud.

I’m aware not everyone can do this.
Not everyone can afford to stop.

A lot of people have to keep going
because other people depend on them,
because the work doesn’t pause,
because stepping away feels impossible.

The time away I was able to take
came from support,
not strength.

For every bowl sold, I'll be donating one dollar to Mental Health Organizations.

I hope it will give someone the chance to take a break when they need it most.

- Mike