The Evolution Game: Why Your First Business Idea Probably Won't Be Your Last
Last week, I received an email from Emily Cretella, a fellow education entrepreneur who's been running her business since 2012. As we exchanged thoughts about the transition from employee to business owner, she shared something that stopped me in my tracks.
It took her years to figure out exactly what services she wanted to provide and where to focus. She started by offering everything under the sun, then gradually became more laser-focused with each passing year.
Years. Not months. Years to find her focus.
If you're like me—someone who spent nearly three decades in schools where we're trained to have the right answer, plan everything meticulously, and execute flawlessly—this might feel unsettling. Shouldn't we know exactly what our business will be before we start?
Here's what I'm learning: The answer is no. And that's not a bug—it's a feature.
The Educator's Blessing and Curse
There's a reason education entrepreneurs start broad. In schools, we're professional generalists, comfortable wearing multiple hats because that's literally our job description.
When we leap into entrepreneurship, this versatility feels like our superpower. We see schools struggling with everything from marketing to strategic planning to technology integration. Our first instinct? "I can do all of that!"
So we build businesses that mirror our school experience: a little bit of everything for everyone. We cast wide nets because we genuinely can help with many things—and frankly, we need revenue streams to replace those steady paychecks.
The Beautiful Mess of Evolution
But here's what nobody tells you: starting broad isn't a failure of planning. It's market research in real time.
Every service you offer teaches you something. Every client interaction reveals preferences. Every project shows you what energizes you and what drains you. You discover which work you're naturally drawn to, which problems you solve most elegantly, and where you create the most value.
Emily shared something that hit me hardest: if you don't enjoy spending your time doing something, don't offer it. This seems obvious, but it's revolutionary for educators. In schools, we do what needs to be done, regardless of personal preference.
In entrepreneurship, we have the freedom to choose. More than that, we must choose. Because when you're building something sustainable, joy isn't optional. It's fuel.
Permission to Pivot
The pressure to "get it right" from the beginning is intense, especially for those of us who spent decades in structured environments. But businesses aren't curriculum guides. They're living entities that should evolve with your understanding of the market and yourself.
I'm seeing this in my own journey. Services I thought would be central have revealed themselves to be energy drains. Meanwhile, work I initially considered "side offerings" has emerged as my most fulfilling contribution.
The Long Game
Here's the reassurance I wish someone had given me: You don't have to figure it all out upfront. You don't need a perfect business model before you start.
You just have to begin, pay attention, and stay open to evolution.
Your first business idea probably won't be your last. And that's not a sign of failure—it's evidence of growth, learning, and the beautiful messiness of building something meaningful.
The game isn't about getting it right immediately. It's about getting started, staying curious, and trusting the process of becoming the entrepreneur you're meant to be.
What's your business look like in version 1.0 versus today? I'd love to hear about your own evolution game in the comments.