The Most Uncomfortable Part About Making Money On the Internet
Learning to play the internet's most misunderstood game.
At this point, my job title has become a meme.
I’m a “content creator”.
I’ve written a lot of articles online, posted pretty much my whole life in the form of tweets and Quora answers, written several ebooks, and I’ve created several digital products that I’ve sold online.
I’m doin’ the thing.
However, it’s strange because of the way people view my job. My job is not like other jobs.
My job is to make the stuff you look at when you’re bored at your job.
Because of that, everyone assumes that I’m unemployed or cheating the system.
The former is not true, but I can’t say anything about the latter.
You can be anything, but it comes at a cost.
So how did I get here?
It all started because of a global pandemic, a crazy dream to wrestle people all over the globe, and a few podcasts that I heard in college that put some crazy ideas in my head.
When I was a senior in college, I had absolutely no idea what I was going to do after I graduated. All I knew was that a 9–5 sounded like suicide and that parents didn’t seem to love their jobs.
I wanted something different. I had to find another way.
Then, in March 2020, the pandemic struck. I moved back in with my mom and dad. I lived in the basement and finished school. I finished school in May, and then I started a summer internship and started applying for jobs.
It didn’t go well.
For months, I couldn’t get an interview, much less a job. By the time employers would call to give me an interview, I was never able to seal the deal.
Looking back, there was an element of self-sabotage in there. I never wanted to work for someone else in an office, wearing dress pants and drinking out of a snow cone cup at a water cooler.
I wanted adventure. I’ve always wanted a weird life. That’s the kind of person I am.
That’s why, instead of getting a job, I bleached my hair, turned on some heavy metal, and tried to become the best Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu fighter and digital writer that I could be.
There are levels to this game.
If I’m being generous, I think I’m a new blue belt in writing.
In Jiu-Jitsu, we always say that there are “levels to the game”. This is a phrase used to describe someone we think is really good getting tapped out by someone far better. This exposes the levels.
Content creation is the same.
However, most people don’t think about this. Most people just look at Tim Denning or Sean Kernan and think, “Welp, that’ll never be me.”
That’s like a blue belt looking at a black belt and assuming they won’t last in Jiu-Jitsu. It’s a defeatist mindset and exactly what we try to overcome in Jiu-Jitsu.
Newbies feel like they’re playing with one arm tied around their backs, but in reality, they
just don’t have all the knowledge and reps to do this at the highest levels.
To put it bluntly, they’ve been doing it longer, and that’s why they’re better.
It’s hard to beat a competitor who’s had over 1000 matches. It’s hard to outearn a creator who’s written 1000 articles or made 1000 videos.
This might bug you, but content creation is a competition in many ways. We’re competing in the game of capturing and keeping attention. This is how we make money.
When you’re a blue belt in Jiu-Jitsu, it’s really hard to tap out black and brown belts. That’s just how the game works.
When you’re a new writer, it’s really hard to get anyone to read what you wrote.
However, the longer you stick with the game, the better you get.
Before you know it, you might be a black belt yourself, and you probably won’t even realize it.
And what happens to your life as you progress? People think you’re weird.
Writing on the internet is alarmingly similar to the journey through the belt ranks in Jiu-Jitsu.
When you first start, people think what you’re doing is cute. They love your new little hobby and they’re eager to support you.
But over time, you encounter resistance. People were expecting you to dabble with this hobby for a while and then give it up.
And yet, you’re still here. You’re still writing, and your writing is getting better. People are reading it.
You went viral.
You made some money — no one was expecting that.
Now you make half your living online. That’s where I’m at.
This cycle is what happened in my early days of Jiu-Jitsu, and the same thing happened when I got really into writing online. People started to assume that I didn’t have a job or that I was cheating the system, and they got jealous of me. They assumed I was only happy because I was lazy.
The reality is that I was just writing on the internet, every single day. I still am.
Now, nearly 2 years in, I make half my living from writing shit on the internet and half from teaching people how to fight and fighting in tournaments.
That’s completely wackadoo to pretty much everyone that I grew up with or see on a daily basis. Everyone knows that I’m “a writer”, but they don’t know what that is or what that entails. When we talk about it and I try to explain, we usually both end up confused.
There’s a disconnect when we talk about cash flow because people think the money fairy brings me money for my writing.
The source of where I get my money makes me strange to other people.
It’s strange how our identities can be so closely correlated to our jobs.
Closing Thoughts
Writing is a long, isolating, and arduous journey.
It’s not all cute coffee shops, nice background music, and comments and shares from strangers talking about how insightful you are.
There’s a bit more beating your head against the keyboard than I’d like to admit. I could have chosen something easier.
This craft, like any other craft worth pursuing, requires an insane amount of focus, dedication, and introspection, and the reward is that when you succeed, you will probably piss off a lot of people.
Living your dreams is kind of a raw deal.
It’s not as good as you think it is.
That, however, is a conversation for another day.
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