I'm Gina Dunn, and I ran my own agency, iGina Marketing, from 2012 to 2021. It was doing well. Then one year everything stacked up at once: burnout I'd been calling "busy," a relationship that ended, and my father getting sick across the world at the start of the COVID lockdown, and then dying. Grief burns off the pretending. When it cleared, I could see I'd spent years feeding something that wasn't feeding me back, and that chasing bigger had almost cost me my own voice. So I closed it. The year after, I worked out what I actually believed, and in 2023 I opened OG Solutions around it. This is that story, and why it matters for how I build brands now.
The year everything stacked up
I'd run the agency for about a decade. It grew, and I kept feeding it, because growing is what you do.
Then came the year. Burnout I'd been calling "busy." Stress I'd been calling "growth." A relationship that ended. And my dad, the most important man in my life, got sick all the way across the world just as the COVID lockdown started. And then he died.
I'm not going to dress that up. It was a very bad year.
What grief burned off
Grief has a way of burning off the pretending. When the smoke cleared, I could see something I'd been walking around for a long time: I'd been building something big and blurry, for clients who didn't always fit, at a pace I couldn't hold. Chasing bigger had almost cost me my own voice.
So I closed it. And I spent the next year with two questions I'd been avoiding:
Who am I actually for?
What kind of work brings me joy?
The sentence I'd been avoiding
The answers turned into a sentence. Two, really.
The first was about my own life: I'd rather build something clear and right-sized than keep feeding something big and blurry.
The second became the belief my work runs on: a brand should sound more like the woman behind it than like everyone else.
That one reorganized everything. My clients, my days, the way I work, and eventually a book. In 2023 I opened OG Solutions around it. The O is Oscar, my partner. The G is me.
Grief is a hard teacher. It burns off the pretending.
Why I'm telling you this
I'm good now. Really good, actually. I'm telling you because I see the same pattern in almost every woman I work with, usually without the grief part. A business that's "doing well" and still feels heavy. Language that sounds impressive and empty. A sense that the brand out there belongs to an earlier version of her. The sentence she needs is usually one she's been walking around for a year.
Most founders don't need a crisis to find it. That's why I do this work: so you can choose clarity before a bad year chooses it for you.
You decide how much of your story goes on the page
One more thing, because it matters for your brand too.
You don't have to share your hard years to build from them. Your story is material, and you decide how much of it goes on the page. If it's still raw, keep it for yourself for now. It will still shape your work, and the brand can come from what it taught you without telling everyone how you learned it.
Clear beats big
The other thing that year taught me: bigger isn't the same as stronger. The wrong clients cost more than they pay. And a clear brand outlasts a big one.
I don't say that to knock anyone who wants to scale. Scale is great when it's the right shape for you. I say it because a lot of women think "smaller and clearer" is a step back. For me it was the first step forward in years.
If this sounds familiar
- Write down your two questions. Who am I actually for? What kind of work brings me joy? Answer them by hand, before you look at your website.
- Read A brand should sound like the woman behind it for how this turns into brand work.
- Read the prologue of The Clarity Signal. It starts right here.
- The earlier version of this story is my byline for She Rises Studios, "From pain to power: what I found when everything fell away." → She Rises Studios
And if you're at your own turning point and want someone to hold the mirror, I'm here. → Book a Clarity Call
