How I Got Here: One Communicator’s Journey to Solo Entrepreneurship

By Jacqueline Chandler

Let me tell you how this all started. Not the “once upon a time” kind of start—but the real one. The one where you wake up one day as the Director of Communications and Public Affairs for the USDA Forest Service in Alaska, with a rock-solid federal salary and a seven-year track record in Juneau... and the next day, you're handed an agreement that inevitably ends your job, but gives you time to find your way through a few months of administrative leave that offers you a full salary and benefits for the time being. Surprise!

That was my catalyst. And if you’ve ever been there—or somewhere like there—you know what comes next: the emotional rollercoaster of Do I stay? Do I go? Should I wait it out? Should I take the fork in the road, sit on the curb, and cry into my coffee?

Spoiler alert: I took the fork. Or maybe the whole silverware drawer.

I enrolled in the USDA’s Deferred Resignation Program, with an official retirement date of Sept. 30. It’s technically an early retirement. Just shy of the 20-year federal milestone that would’ve boosted my pension. (Cue the bittersweet music.) But I made peace with it. Mostly.

At first, I did what I think most people do: I polished my résumé, started applying for jobs, and imagined myself sliding smoothly into something comparable—the same salary, the same level, the same sense of purpose.

What I got was... crickets.

Or worse, ghosting. Automated rejections. Some interviews, sure, but always ending in that fun little email: “Thanks, but we went with someone else.” Ego: bruised. Confidence: wobbling. Outlook: cloudy with a chance of existential dread.

So, I stopped.

I stopped applying, waiting for someone else to tell me I was worth it, and handing over the wheel to systems and job boards that didn’t know me at all.

And I started something I’ve wanted to do for a long, long time: I launched Bear Necessities Communication.

It’s just me, a sole proprietorship. A one-woman band with 36+ years of experience in everything from public relations to media relations, crisis comms to telemarketing, strategic messaging to content strategy. I’ve done the glamorous and the gritty. I’ve worked with big teams, tiny teams, and sometimes just the voices in my head. (They’re a riot.)

Now, I get to offer that whole buffet of experience to folks who might not have a communication shop at all: nonprofits, solopreneurs, community organizations, local mom and pop shops, anyone who needs just a little help making a significant impact.

Do you need a news release, a social media tune-up, a flyer that gets read, or a website that doesn’t feel like 2004? I’m your person. And guess what? I’m not doing it alone. Thanks to AI (hello, free staff of one zillion), I can streamline, brainstorm, and automate things on the back end while focusing on the actual craft. The content. The strategy. The real deal. That’s all me!

It feels... good. It feels like mine.

And it doesn’t stop there. I’m also in my second year of a PhD program at the University of North Dakota. (Yes, never say never.) If all goes according to plan, by 2027, I’ll be Dr. Jacqueline Chandler: a researcher, writer, and communicator on a mission to help people understand one another. That’s the heart of my dissertation, by the way: how small shifts in how we talk can create massive shifts in how we connect. Individually. Organizationally. Globally.

So yeah, I’m putting my energy into this new chapter—into Bear Necessities Communication, academia, Alaska, and giving back by volunteering with the local theatre, the local library, and PRSA Alaska, and maybe even contemplating some freelance newspaper reporting.

No, I’m not trying to be a millionaire. (Though I wouldn’t say no to Oprah money.) I’m aiming for enough. Enough to live a good life, help a few good people, and keep under that Social Security earnings cap. Enough to feel like I’m still building something that matters—even if it’s just me, a laptop, and a dream.

So here I am: two months after starting federal administrative leave. I'm still figuring things out. I still wake up some mornings, wondering if I should’ve played it safe. But most mornings, I just feel excited.

This is the dream many people have: Can I take this thing I’m good at—this talent, this skill, this drive—and turn it into a business I love?

Well... I’m doing it.

And if you’re thinking about it too? I’m here to tell you: start. Just start. It might not be perfect. It might be scary. But it might also be the best thing you’ve ever done.