5 days ago
Is entrepreneurship really made for someone like me?
But for many women of colour in Scotland, that version of entrepreneurship feels like a distant fairytale. Behind the hashtags, award ceremonies and success stories is a very different reality.
One shaped by systemic barriers, quiet exclusions and the mental load of being both visible and invisible at the same time.
I know this because I've lived it.
I'm a mother of three, a singer, a broadcaster and a personal brand strategist, who helps women build visibility and confidence in rooms where we've often been overlooked.
I came to Scotland nearly two decades ago. At the time, I had no network, no roadmap and very little idea of how to navigate this new cultural and professional landscape.
I started from scratch hosting concerts, online broadcasts from my living room, mentoring women who felt stuck, and eventually launching Heartsong Live in 2017 – Scotland's first black female- led Christian radio station as a space for music, faith and real-life conversations.
But I soon realised faith was only part of the picture. Many of the women listening were struggling, not because they lacked talent or ambition but because they felt stuck, unseen and disconnected from opportunity. That led to Adelphe – a social enterprise that empowers ethnic minority women in Fife, Edinburgh and West Lothian through coaching, mentoring and visibility support.
We create safe, practical spaces for women navigating life transitions from entrepreneurship to menopause, caregiving to career change, helping them thrive personally, professionally and within their communities.
Earlier this year, we submitted a proposal to the Scottish Government's Ecosystem Fund for a programme called Thrive Circles – a three-month pilot for 20 black and ethnic minority women in Scotland who are running small businesses while raising children, caring for loved ones or rebuilding their careers after migration.
We designed it based on what women told us they needed. Safe spaces. Peer-led support. Storytelling that affirms identity. And real visibility ... not just more training slides. The programme included live workshops, a video and podcast series and a printed Adelphe Thrive Magazine showcasing 'Founders You Should Know'. It was creative, community-rooted and built on lived experience.
We didn't get the funding. No explanation. No feedback. Just silence. And while I've learned to take rejection in my stride, this one felt like more than a 'no'.
It echoed a pattern many of us have become familiar with that the stories, needs and brilliance of black and ethnic minority women in Scotland are too often seen as niche, rather than necessary.
When you're a woman of colour in business, rejection doesn't just threaten your plans. It threatens your sense of belonging.
You start to wonder if there's a quota. If being passionate, strategic and community-led is enough. If your lived experience is ever going to be seen as credible expertise.
You carry the hopes of your community. The silent expectations of your family. The pressure to succeed not just for yourself, but for the girls watching you.
And yet, we build anyway. We show up to networking events where we're the only ones. We create content, host circles, lead workshops and offer support even when the funding doesn't come. We raise children while pitching ideas. We adapt, translate and make do because we must.
Entrepreneurship, for us, isn't about vanity metrics. It's about visibility. It's about voice. It's about legacy. It's about creating spaces where we don't have to code-switch to be taken seriously.
I often say to the women I coach: You're not late. You're just not seen yet. And I say it to myself too – in the quiet moments, after the rejection emails, when I wonder if anything I'm building will ever be truly recognised.
So, is entrepreneurship really made for me? I believe it is.
Not in the way it's often presented – not just as scaling, pitching or chasing numbers. For me, entrepreneurship is about creating something that reflects who you are, not just what you sell.
It's choosing to lead, even when no-one hands you a title. It's building with what you have, where you are, and inviting others to rise with you.
Being an entrepreneur isn't just about solving problems, it's about holding space for possibilities. It's about showing up with vision and vulnerability. It's about using your voice when it's easier to stay quiet, and creating opportunities when none seem to exist.
For the women I serve and for myself, entrepreneurship is not just business. It's resistance. It's healing. It's legacy. So no, the system may not have been made with us in mind. But we're here. We're building. We're shifting the narrative. And that, too, is entrepreneurship.
This piece was published as part of the Pass the Mic programme
