Hi! I’m Deena — a 45-year-old ex-corporate gal now building a life (and business) on my own terms as a neurodivergent digital marketer.
I never imagined leaving the corporate world. For years, I worked in event management and staff resourcing, and I loved it. The thrill of pulling off huge events was unmatched — but I had no boundaries. I was constantly sick, exhausted, and always "on."
When the country I lived in went into full lockdown during Covid, everything changed. With the events sector on pause, I pivoted into a new role within the same company — helping manage security staffing for vaccination centers. The responsibility was intense. While the world slowed down, I worked harder and longer than ever, determined to climb the corporate ladder.
Until my body made the decision for me.
I had a massive stroke that required six hours of surgery and a month in the hospital. My self-worth was so tied to my job that I forced myself back to work less than six months later. At first, I could only manage six hours a week, working from home. I was weak, my cognitive skills had regressed, and I had no business pushing myself like that — but I did.
Eventually, I was back to full-time hours, but it was nothing like before. My doctor firmly told me: no more than 35 hours a week. My role was adjusted to a desk-based HR admin job, and even that was a massive struggle.
I probably would have kept pushing through — until life intervened again.
I was made redundant. It felt deeply personal, even though many others in similar roles were let go too. At the same time, something incredible happened: my neurosurgeon’s grant application for overseas treatment was approved. That redundancy and trip overseas were strangely aligned. Looking back, I think the universe was giving me a message.
I flew to the US to receive world-class treatment — and that’s when everything hit me. The burnout. The trauma. The grief. When I returned home, my energy collapsed. I was sleeping up to 16 hours a day. I couldn’t stand in the shower. Cooking felt impossible. Driving to the store? Forget it. I was living on cereal and food delivery.
Eventually, I found a basic work-from-home customer service job. Humbling doesn't even begin to cover it. Learning new systems took countless repetitions, and I had to rely on pages of notes just to get through a shift. Then, right before I left for a second round of treatment in the US, my employer terminated my contract. No redundancy. No safety net.
I was heartbroken — and terrified.
While overseas again, desperate for hope, I read a book about neurodivergence. It was a lightbulb moment. My brain wasn’t broken — it needed time. I needed time. I finally understood that my relentless drive to succeed had nearly cost me everything — including time with my daughter and the peaceful life I craved.
Yes, I needed income. But for the first time, I also knew I deserved a gentler way to live.
When I got back home, I gave myself permission to rest. If I was tired, I slept. If socializing drained me, I left. I stopped saying yes to things I didn’t want to do. Slowly, I began making my home a sanctuary. And slowly, I began healing.
But living on disability was a big adjustment. I missed the ease of swiping my card without anxiety. So I began researching work-from-home business ideas — but I was clear: I didn’t want to work for anyone else, and I wasn’t going to hustle myself into burnout again.
That’s when I discovered digital marketing.
At first, it felt a bit… dodgy. But I stumbled upon a $5 challenge through a website (not social media) and decided to give it a go. It turned out to be a goldmine — packed with education, clarity, and tools I could use right away. I didn’t buy the full course afterward (I couldn’t afford it), but I learned enough to get started on my own.
I knew exactly who I wanted to serve: women like me — neurodivergent, recovering from burnout, illness, or trauma — who want to start a business without hustle culture.
Determined and broke, I built my business with the free tools and training I’d received. I made social media accounts, created a logo on Canva, and started posting. My early content was rough, but I gained 500 followers quickly. The leap from consumer to creator was uncomfortable, but necessary.
Eventually, I realized: if I wanted to grow, I needed to invest. I asked around, and the course everyone recommended was DWA 2.0. I took the plunge.
At first, I was overwhelmed — but I learned so much. My content improved, my online store became optimized, and I found a better platform that suited my neurodivergent brain. I created my first digital products, launched this blog, and nearly doubled my followers.
But more importantly?
I work when I want to.
Most days, I want to, because I’m finally working in alignment with my energy and values. When I need rest, I take it — and my business is still there when I return.
What I’ve learned so far:
You don’t have to be perfect to start.
Learning SEO, content creation, and funnels takes time — but it’s doable.
There’s a lot of noise online — but there are real mentors who value integrity over hype.
You can create a business that aligns with your energy, focus, and life experience.
I’m still figuring it all out. I still battle self-doubt. But every day I work on this business is a day I reclaim more autonomy and peace.
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