Building a self-care brand nearly cost me my own well-being. Here are the lessons I’ve learned.

For six years, Mala the Brand grew from a side hustle into a widely recognized Canadian candle company. This Small Business Month, founder Melody Lim reflects on what success really cost—and how burnout led her to let go.

Melody Lim is the founder of Mala the Brand, an eco-friendly candle company. 

Over the last six years, I’ve experienced and seen the realities—good and bad—of building a business from scratch. When I launched Mala the Brand in late 2019, I was fresh out of undergrad, full of optimism, and admittedly oblivious to what it truly meant to build a business. Since then, my life has changed drastically–most notably, becoming a mom has really put everything into perspective for me.

I was in my early 20s when I first started Mala. I had no investors, no safety net, and one full-time job under my belt. But what I lacked in experience, I made up for in passion. What I did have was an idea, a lot of hustle, and a willingness to figure it out as I went. Now, in my late 20s, Mala is all I’ve known, and truthfully, I’ve loved so many aspects of owning a small business. Yes, it’s been all-consuming, but I’ve loved the community we’ve built and all of the amazing connections I’ve made both on and offline through it.

Through pure blood, sweat, and tears, Mala grew from a tiny side project into a well-recognized self-care brand. It still blows my mind that people buy my candles for themselves and as gifts for their loved ones!  Together, with my tiny team, we’ve built a loyal community and collaborated with retailers and partners I could’ve only dreamed about. From retailers like Nordstrom, Indigo, Urban Outfitters, and Whole Foods stocking our candles on their shelves to iconic collaborations with other incredible brands like SmartSweets, Sesame Street, Glow Recipe, Benefit Cosmetics, and more, to features in Forbes, Cosmopolitan, and Refinery29, these last six years have truly exceeded my wildest expectations. Our candles have even been loved and shared by celebrities like Kim Kardashian, Addison Rae, and Hilary Duff (*pinch me!*).

But, for as much as it felt like a dream at times, behind the scenes, the reality of being a solo founder was far less glamorous.

As a sole entrepreneur bootstrapping the entire way, I wore every hat: product development, logistics, customer service, marketing, fulfillment. I didn’t pay myself for a long time. I recruited friends and family with free dinners and gratitude (thanks fam!). I packed boxes in my pajamas at 2 a.m. to meet deadlines, stored inventory in every corner of my house (and my parents’), and I can’t remember the last time I didn’t work on vacation (my honeymoon included) – not to mention through countless weeknights, weekends and holidays. There were no paid sick days and simply no option to ‘turn off’, because if I didn’t do it, who would? I answered emails from the delivery room while in labour and fielded wholesale orders just days postpartum.

Being ‘burnt out’ is what I thought success was supposed to feel and look like. I believed the myth that in order to be successful, I had to sacrifice everything. That if I just pushed harder, I’d eventually earn the right to rest. It doesn’t help that society glamourizes this type of hustle, and it’s something that as entrepreneurs, I don’t think we talk about enough. Entrepreneurs are a different breed, requiring you to be a little bit insane and a lot delusional to survive. Like a toxic relationship, one day you’re on top of the world, and the next day you’re not. What’s more, there’s no rulebook to follow, no finish line to achieve, and no guarantees. And, to be honest, for a long time, I loved the chaos. I loved the adrenaline. Until I didn’t.

Six months ago, I had a baby, and everything began to shift.

Mala had become my whole identity, but after becoming a mom, I did a lot of soul-searching and had to begin asking myself the tough questions: what am I doing this for? Who am I without Mala? The truth is, I ignored my inner voice for years because I didn’t want to miss out on exciting business opportunities and partnerships. But without realizing it, I had tied my whole identity, self-worth, and overall wellness to my business.

While I’m deeply proud of what I’ve built, the emotional and physical cost has become too high. The pressure of reinvesting every dollar back into the business, of carrying the weight of every decision, and of never truly turning off has all added up. And I know it’s not just from sleepless nights with a newborn. I’m fundamentally depleted, and my well-being is suffering because of my commitments to entrepreneurship. Much can be said about delegating tasks and hiring the ‘right’ people to prevent burnout, but at the end of the day, the truth is that no one will ever care about your business as much as you do.

Having my baby was the catalyst I needed to re-prioritize and reassess my life. It forced me to slow down and gave me a new sense of purpose outside of Mala. It feels like a relief to finally let go. Embracing a new identity that includes motherhood feels like permission to accept what I already knew deep down: that my journey with Mala was coming to an end.

It feels freeing to finally share this news: Mala has been acquired and will be in great hands with an incredible team running it right here in Canada. The candles you know and love will live on (and maybe even get some 2.0 upgrades!), and I will finally get the space to lean into being a mom and redefine what success looks like for me.

To other aspiring founders reading this: ambition and success shouldn’t have to come at the expense of your well-being. Building something meaningful shouldn’t require losing yourself in the process. Entrepreneurship can be incredibly fulfilling and allow you to create a life you love, but we need to stop glorifying burnout as a badge of honour and start asking harder questions about what sustainability and success in entrepreneurship truly looks like.

I still love Mala deeply. It was the most intense, rewarding, and transformational chapter of my life–until now. I don’t know what the future looks like, but I know it will be one built on more balance and more boundaries.