It’s Sunday evening and I’m writing this in a reflective mood.
This week marks the first anniversary of Cricket Mind Online — and with that milestone has come a natural pause. A chance to look back on the decision to leave England Cricket in September 2024, and to take stock of what the last year has really involved.
I’m also writing this for anyone quietly considering the same leap.
Not to persuade. Not to warn. But to offer a more honest account of what working for yourself looks like in today’s world — because the reality is very different from the stories we tend to hear.
Starting Again
Since leaving, I’ve launched three cricket-related businesses:
- Cricket Mind Online – an online coaching and mentoring business focused on the mental side of performance, now a year old.
- Cheshire Cricket Coaching – a local coaching business offering one-to-one sessions, group coaching and holiday camps, launched just weeks ago.
- Find Your Coach – a tech platform connecting players worldwide with highly qualified coaches for technical analysis and mentoring. Coming soon.
That reads cleanly. The lived experience behind it has been far messier.
I launched my first business 25 years ago. It was hard then — but it was quiet. There was less noise, fewer platforms, and fewer people entering markets they previously couldn’t access.
Today, technology has lowered barriers in extraordinary ways. Opportunity has expanded — but so has saturation. Starting something now means operating in a constant hum of comparison, content, and competition.
It’s heavier. Louder. More mentally demanding.
And more emotionally exposing.
Employment vs Self-Employment (The Bit People Don’t Talk About)
Working for yourself is significantly harder than working for an established organisation.
You do everything.
You carry all the uncertainty.
Revenue isn’t guaranteed. Expenditure never stops.
You live and die by your decisions — daily.
You only get paid for the work that gets paid.
And sometimes, despite working all the hours God sends, you still lose money.
There’s nowhere to hide. No coasting. No salary smoothing the rough weeks.
And yet — despite all of that — the upside outweighs the downside.
The autonomy.
The freedom to build things properly.
The creative energy that comes from ownership.
The wide-ranging skills you develop because you have to.
The satisfaction of seeing something take shape because you made the calls.
No office politics.
No pretending alignment with values that don’t match lived behaviour.
No toeing the line for the sake of optics.
For me, that trade-off is worth it.
On Values and Corporate Life
I’ve realised I’m not built to be a cog in a corporate wheel.
People have values. Corporations don’t — at least not in the way we talk about them. What organisations really manage are optics: the behaviours they’d like the world to think they embody.
Expecting large groups of people to align neatly around a single values statement is unrealistic. And the gap between what’s said and what’s done is something I’ve always found difficult to sit with.
When you work for yourself, that tension disappears. Your decisions, your behaviour, your standards. If something feels off, you own it — and you fix it.
The Network Illusion
Leaving an organisation also exposes something uncomfortable about networks.
You assume yours is strong — and parts of it are. But when your role disappears, so does some of the interest. People you’ve supported drift away once they no longer see how you can help them.
That’s hard to process.
But it’s also clarifying.
Because alongside those who fade out are the people who quietly step up. They check in. They connect you. They back you without asking what’s in it for them.
Those people were always there. This experience simply confirms what your instincts already knew.
Trusting Instinct Over Analysis
We’re encouraged to over-index on cognition. To analyse, rationalise, and optimise.
But emotionally, we are ancient and highly tuned creatures. Our instincts have been shaped over hundreds of thousands of years. Often, they know long before our spreadsheets do.
This past year has reinforced that lesson: trust emotional judgement more than endless analysis. It’s usually right — even when it’s uncomfortable.
Standing Alone (and Why That Matters)
Realising you can’t rely on your network in the way you thought is painful.
It’s also liberating.
Once you accept that, you stop waiting for permission or validation. You become more creative, more resourceful, and more patient. You make decisions for the long term rather than chasing short-term reassurance.
If you’re thinking about taking the leap, this is worth understanding upfront.
Gratitude
No journey like this is truly solo.
- John Neal — thank you for the opportunity at England Cricket and for leading with clarity and conviction. You understand your values, but more importantly, you live by them too.
- Keith Jones — one of my first ever clients 25 years ago, now a close friend and mentor. Your wisdom has quietly shaped how I think about business more than you probably realise.
- Neeruj Luthra — an absolute rock this past year. Generous with time, expertise and judgement.
- Briony Brock — a brilliant mindset coach and the backbone of Cricket Mind Online. Starting a podcast together has been one of the highlights of the year.
- Gunjan Parikh and Praharsh Parikh — looking forward to getting going on a project that could be something special.
- My beautiful wife, Sarah — for being with me through thick and thin. Twenty-six years is a long time to be stuck with me, and I don’t take that lightly. I love you very much x
And to everyone who’s been part of the journey so far — those who had my back, and those who didn’t.
I’ve learned from all of you.
How to do it.
And how not to.
If this piece helps even one person approach that decision with clearer eyes — or trust their instincts a little more — then it’s served its purpose.
nathanwood.consulting 