Why I'm Investing In Things That Don't Immediately Grow My Business

Some of the most important investments I'm making right now won't show up on any revenue report.

In the past 8 weeks since the inception of The House of HUI, I've been doing something that might look counterintuitive from the outside.

Saying yes to matcha chats with no clear collaboration on the table. Carving out every Monday morning just to think and read without pressure to produce anything. Signing up for Hainanese language classes starting this Wednesday, a ten-week commitment that has nothing to do with my business and everything to do with reconnecting with a part of my identity I've kept at arm's length for too long.

None of this will show immediate returns. None of it will convert into clients this quarter. But I'm learning that building a business means building a life that can hold it, and that takes investments that don't always make sense on paper.

The loneliness no one talks about

One of the hardest parts of going solo has been the loneliness. Not the kind that comes from being physically alone, but the kind that creeps in when you realise there's no team to bounce ideas off, no colleagues to process the day with, no one who understands the particular weight of carrying a business entirely on your own shoulders.

So I've been intentional about not letting that loneliness take root. I've been reaching out to people whose work I admire, asking if they'd be open to a conversation. I've also been protecting time with the friends who've been here long before I became a founder. The ones who let me show up messy, who make space for sleepovers and dinners that stretch late into the night, who remind me that I'm more than what I'm building.

Those moments don't grow my business, but they grow me. And I'm starting to realise that might be the more important investment.

Investing in relationships without immediate business outcomes is how you build a life that can sustain the work.

Rest as a radical act

I used to think rest was something you earned after you'd worked hard enough. But lately I've been reframing rest as an investment rather than a luxury. Monday mornings have become sacred. I don't schedule work calls or client work. Instead, I use that time to think about the business without the pressure of executing. I read. I journal. I plan. I notice my breath. I let myself be slow.

Those Monday mornings don't produce immediate output, but they sure do produce mental and emotional clarity. They produce the kind of strategic thinking that only comes when you give your brain permission to wander. And they remind me why I'm doing this in the first place.

Rest is the foundation that makes the work sustainable.

Learning for the sake of learning

This week I start Hainanese language classes. Ten weeks, every Wednesday evening, learning a language I've heard my entire life but never truly understood. It has nothing to do with brand or business strategy. It won't help me sign more clients or grow my revenue. But it feels important in a way I can't quite articulate yet.

I think there's something powerful about investing in learning that doesn't have a clear business application. It reminds you that you're allowed to be curious just for the sake of curiosity. That not everything you do needs to serve your business goals, and that you're still a whole person with interests and identities beyond what you're building.

Sometimes the most important thing you can do is learn something just because it makes you feel more like yourself.

The things that don’t scale

I've been saying yes to dinners with friends even when I have deadlines. I've been showing up at events not because I'm selling anything but because I want to support the people I care about. I've been spending hours on coffee chats with people I've just met on LinkedIn, not because I'm networking strategically but because those conversations make me feel less alone and I leave with a smile in my heart.

None of this scales. None of it fits neatly into a growth strategy. But all of it feeds something deeper than business metrics. It feeds the part of me that needs to remember I'm building this for connection, not just conversion. For meaning, not just money. For a life I actually want to live, not just a business that looks impressive from the outside.

The things that don’t scale are often the things that matter most.

What I’m learning two months in

I'm learning that building a business isn't just about the obvious metrics. Revenue matters, yes. Client work matters. Strategy and systems matter too. But so does how you feel at the end of the day. So does whether you're building something that gives you energy or drains it.

I'm learning that the investments that don't show immediate returns are often the ones that determine whether you'll still be here a year from now. Because what's the point of building something successful if you've lost yourself in the process?

And I'm learning that two months in, I'm exactly where I need to be. Not ahead, not behind, just here. Building slowly, investing wisely, and trusting that the things I'm planting now will matter more than I can see yet.

The things I’m investing in now won’t show up on a revenue report, but they’re what will keep me here for the long run.
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What I’ve Learnt From Watching People Building Slowly