I didn’t mean for The Backroom to become what it is now.

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Honestly, it started because I got sick to death of walking into business spaces that felt like a competition for who could pretend the hardest.

Everyone posting wins they didn’t even enjoy, bragging screenshots, manufactured perfection, all of it dripping in “look at me” energy, and absolutely none of it feeling remotely human.

I remember thinking, where the hell are the real people. Where are the humans who still have laundry on the sofa and a typo in their caption and a dog barking in the background while they try to build a business.

Where are the people who don’t want to play entrepreneur bingo. Where are the ones who want to actually TALK.

So I created a space, almost accidentally, for the ones who were sick of performing, sick of eggshell-walking, sick of perfect curated wins, sick of sleazy DMs that feel like a damp handshake, sick of being in groups where the only sound is pfffttt tumbleweed rolling through the threads.

I didn’t want a place where people pretended they had their shit together. I wanted a place where people were allowed to admit they didn’t.

And somewhere along the way, The Backroom became this home — not a group, an actual home — for heart-led entrepreneurs who were tired of being the only messy human in the room.

The ones who want connection but don’t want to tap dance for it. The ones who want to show up but don’t want to do it alone. The ones who want to feel part of something without needing to slap a filter on their personality first.

I already knew what they wanted, even before they did, because they all told me the same thing in different words.

They wanted to feel SEEN. They wanted to feel part of something. They wanted their business to grow without losing their soul.

They wanted accountability that actually works and doesn’t feel like homework. They wanted HUMANS, not robots.

They wanted a space where they could be their whole messy, magic, sweary-in-their-kitchen self without being side-eyed.

They wanted conversations that weren’t dripping in ego. They wanted a gentle kick up the arse and a laugh while they were doing it.

And by some miracle, that’s exactly what started happening in The Backroom before I’d even fully articulated it.

People often ask me what makes The Backroom different, and I honestly have no fancy pants pitch for it.

Everything does. For starters, it’s one bloody dollar, and somehow that one dollar filters out every troll, every spammer, every link-dropping lurker, every person who joins groups the way they browse Netflix. The $1 keeps the energy clean.

Real people only. The good ones stay. The dodgy ones don’t even bother.

And it’s SAFE. Properly safe. Safe to swear, safe to cry, safe to celebrate, safe to wobble, safe to ask the question you’re convinced is stupid but actually isn’t.

Safe to just be a HUMAN who is doing their best to build a business in between kids screaming and dogs licking their toes and life doing what life always does.

There’s no ego here, no guru thrones, no hierarchy nonsense, no Olympics of who can sound the most enlightened.

Nobody is competing. Nobody is pretending. Nobody is rolling their eyes because you said something vulnerable. It is genuinely the first business space I’ve seen where people breathe again instead of brace.

And the conversations… OMD the conversations.

They’re raw and real and the exact opposite of those robotic “What’s everyone working on today” posts that get two pity likes and a gif.

People talk like actual humans. They share the stuff other groups hide. They celebrate wins, wobbliness, breakthroughs, breakdowns, the whole messy soup of entrepreneurship.

People collaborate naturally because trust builds connection, not algorithms.

Nobody is scared to post. Nobody feels stupid. Nobody pretends to be further ahead or emotionally bulletproof. And yes, obviously dogs are allowed, because it’s me.

When people ask how I show up in there, I always laugh because the answer is… as me.

Just me. Real, human, consistent, momentum-obsessed, community-obsessed, slightly sweary, slightly sarcastic, massively passionate about helping people MOVE instead of sitting in another learning loop while convincing themselves they’ve been productive.

Some days I’m coaching my pants off. Some days I’m the one asking for support. Some days I’m right in the messy middle with everyone else.

There is no guru on the hill here. It’s us, together, being human while building businesses that actually matter.

And the holy-shit moments people share after joining… I still get emotional about them.

“This feels like the missing piece.”

“I finally feel seen.”

“This is the first group I’m not scared to talk in.”

“I forgot what it felt like to be supported.”

“This is the only place I actually take action.”

These messages tell me the truth of what’s happening. The Back Room isn’t just a group. It’s returning people to themselves.

The question peeps always ask next is why it’s $1, and the answer is simple.

Because it keeps the energy clean and the people real. Because community should be accessible, not elitist.

Because the point is the humanity, not the price tag. And because you shouldn’t need to take out a loan just to find a room where someone says, “Hey lovely, you’re not alone.”

Inside you get human-first conversations, weekly challenges, momentum threads, a space to show up messy and take action anyway, a tribe of badass people who GET IT, a place to talk about business without the bullshit, encouragement that actually lands, collaboration that feels natural, and a level of support that makes you remember you’re not doing this alone.

For one Dollar. One.

If you read this story and thought, holy fck balls, that’s me, then yes.

This is your space.

Click the button → 🔴

Come inside. Say hi.

Be human. We’ll take it from there.

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