- PPF Points
- 2,100
Alright, let’s get real for a sec. A year ago, I made a move that, in hindsight, totally flipped my world. And nope, I’m not talking about the cliché “I quit my job and bought a yurt” moment. No course. No magic formula. Just… a fresh Google doc.
Honestly? I just started writing stuff down. All of it. Not just the fun bits you’d slap on Instagram. I mean the rough patches, the confusion, the sleepless nights, the facepalm fails. Straight up, warts and all. At the time, it felt kinda dumb. But, weirdly enough, that habit ended up being a cheat code. Perspective, baby. It snuck up on me.
So here’s the deal: I’m gonna spill exactly what I did, how I kept it up, and the ten (yes, ten) most important things I picked up from pushing “publish” even when I wanted to crawl under a rock.
First things first — let’s rewind.
Day One: How It Actually Started (Spoiler: I Was Broke and Clueless)
Look, I didn’t roll out of bed and think, “Today, let’s build in public and inspire the masses.” Honestly? I was just trying not to flake on myself. Opened up Notion, smashed out a new page, and bam — named it “The Journey.” The first line? Brutally honest:
“Day 1. No money. No audience. Absolutely no idea what I’m doing. But I’m betting on me anyway. No filters.”
Not exactly Shakespeare. Zero likes, zero views, nada. It was just for me. Might as well have been scribbled on a napkin. But after a couple days, it stuck. I found myself popping in to jot down:
• What I tried
• What flopped
• What actually worked (shockingly rare)
• What ridiculous idea I was going to try next
Didn’t see it coming, but this tiny ritual changed everything.
The Snowball: What Happened When I Shared My Stuff
Three months in, I started tossing weekly updates on Twitter and my dinky little blog. Threads like:
• “Here’s what pitching 20 clients this week actually looked like”
• “5 faceplants from my first digital product attempt”
• “The ugly truth: $0 to $500/month. Spoiler, it ain’t glamorous”
At first, a couple random Twitter lurkers saw them. Then a few more. Then, suddenly, people started caring? Who knew. Some reached out with jobs, partnerships, or just “yo, thanks for being so damn honest.”
Turns out, documenting wasn’t just therapy — it was networking, marketing, and, somehow, proof I wasn’t hallucinating my progress. Wild.
Lesson #1: Nobody Roots for Perfection — They Cheer for Progress
I thought you had to be the smartest, richest, coolest “guru” to share your stuff online.
Nope.
Turns out, most people just want somebody real. Someone who’s only a step or two ahead. It’s like, “Hey, I did this thing. It didn’t suck. Maybe you can do it too?” That rawness? It connects way harder than another coach with a fancy Lamborghini thumbnail.
Lesson #2: Reflection Isn’t Just Fluffy Self-Help — It Actually Speeds You Up
Writing things down every day is like holding a mirror up to your mess.
I’d ask myself, “What went well? What tanked? What am I obsessed with fixing tomorrow?” It made me spot problems — like cold emails that sounded like they were written by a sad robot — and actually fix them. Instead of charging ahead blindly for six months, wondering why I’m getting nowhere.
Lesson #3: Forget the Audience — Just Start, They’ll Find You
No followers when I started. No newsletter. Literally nothing. But from just showing up and being unfiltered, people started popping into my inbox, saying, “Dude, you sound like me.” That snowballed. Slowly, yeah, but it built trust and a legit following.
Here’s the glow-up:
• Zero to 10K+ Twitter followers
• Zero to 2,000 email subs
• Going from yelling into the void to DMing cool people and landing gigs
All that — by just documenting what I was already doing.
Lesson #4: Your Trash Heap of Notes? It’s Money Waiting to Happen
About halfway through, I realized: holy crap, I basically wrote a manual for myself. Notes on finding clients, ranty frameworks on writing, templates for proposals — you name it.
So I cleaned it up, packed it into Notion, and slapped a price tag on it. My first “real” product. $800 first week. Swear I couldn’t believe it. Proof that all those brain dumps add up to something valuable.
Lesson #5: Documentation Makes You Eat Humble Pie (In a Good Way)
When you actually document your days, you stop lying to yourself.
Oh, I undercharged again? Still chickening out of video content? Re-writing that same pointless email for the 100th time? Painfully obvious when it’s all there in black and white.
But seeing the pitfalls isn’t just depressing — you can’t deny your progress either. Growth looks better with receipts.
Lesson #6: You’re Building Your Proof, One Messy Entry at a Time
Fast forward: now I’ve got a year’s worth of this stuff.
• 365+ daily entries
• 50+ Twitter threads
• 30+ blog posts
• 10+ case studies
• Five digital products
So now, if anyone hits me up with, “How’d you do it?” I just show them. Clients see the receipts, partners see consistency, and it’s hard not to trust someone who’s got their entire saga out there for the world to gawk at.
TL;DR — documenting your journey isn’t just “building in public” or whatever the latest buzzword is. It’s your resume, your business plan, your highlight reel, and your blooper reel, all rolled into one. And man, it works.
Honestly? I just started writing stuff down. All of it. Not just the fun bits you’d slap on Instagram. I mean the rough patches, the confusion, the sleepless nights, the facepalm fails. Straight up, warts and all. At the time, it felt kinda dumb. But, weirdly enough, that habit ended up being a cheat code. Perspective, baby. It snuck up on me.
So here’s the deal: I’m gonna spill exactly what I did, how I kept it up, and the ten (yes, ten) most important things I picked up from pushing “publish” even when I wanted to crawl under a rock.
First things first — let’s rewind.
Day One: How It Actually Started (Spoiler: I Was Broke and Clueless)Look, I didn’t roll out of bed and think, “Today, let’s build in public and inspire the masses.” Honestly? I was just trying not to flake on myself. Opened up Notion, smashed out a new page, and bam — named it “The Journey.” The first line? Brutally honest:
“Day 1. No money. No audience. Absolutely no idea what I’m doing. But I’m betting on me anyway. No filters.”
Not exactly Shakespeare. Zero likes, zero views, nada. It was just for me. Might as well have been scribbled on a napkin. But after a couple days, it stuck. I found myself popping in to jot down:
• What I tried
• What flopped
• What actually worked (shockingly rare)
• What ridiculous idea I was going to try next
Didn’t see it coming, but this tiny ritual changed everything.
The Snowball: What Happened When I Shared My StuffThree months in, I started tossing weekly updates on Twitter and my dinky little blog. Threads like:
• “Here’s what pitching 20 clients this week actually looked like”
• “5 faceplants from my first digital product attempt”
• “The ugly truth: $0 to $500/month. Spoiler, it ain’t glamorous”
At first, a couple random Twitter lurkers saw them. Then a few more. Then, suddenly, people started caring? Who knew. Some reached out with jobs, partnerships, or just “yo, thanks for being so damn honest.”
Turns out, documenting wasn’t just therapy — it was networking, marketing, and, somehow, proof I wasn’t hallucinating my progress. Wild.
Lesson #1: Nobody Roots for Perfection — They Cheer for ProgressI thought you had to be the smartest, richest, coolest “guru” to share your stuff online.
Nope.
Turns out, most people just want somebody real. Someone who’s only a step or two ahead. It’s like, “Hey, I did this thing. It didn’t suck. Maybe you can do it too?” That rawness? It connects way harder than another coach with a fancy Lamborghini thumbnail.
Lesson #2: Reflection Isn’t Just Fluffy Self-Help — It Actually Speeds You UpWriting things down every day is like holding a mirror up to your mess.
I’d ask myself, “What went well? What tanked? What am I obsessed with fixing tomorrow?” It made me spot problems — like cold emails that sounded like they were written by a sad robot — and actually fix them. Instead of charging ahead blindly for six months, wondering why I’m getting nowhere.
Lesson #3: Forget the Audience — Just Start, They’ll Find YouNo followers when I started. No newsletter. Literally nothing. But from just showing up and being unfiltered, people started popping into my inbox, saying, “Dude, you sound like me.” That snowballed. Slowly, yeah, but it built trust and a legit following.
Here’s the glow-up:
• Zero to 10K+ Twitter followers
• Zero to 2,000 email subs
• Going from yelling into the void to DMing cool people and landing gigs
All that — by just documenting what I was already doing.
Lesson #4: Your Trash Heap of Notes? It’s Money Waiting to HappenAbout halfway through, I realized: holy crap, I basically wrote a manual for myself. Notes on finding clients, ranty frameworks on writing, templates for proposals — you name it.
So I cleaned it up, packed it into Notion, and slapped a price tag on it. My first “real” product. $800 first week. Swear I couldn’t believe it. Proof that all those brain dumps add up to something valuable.
Lesson #5: Documentation Makes You Eat Humble Pie (In a Good Way)When you actually document your days, you stop lying to yourself.
Oh, I undercharged again? Still chickening out of video content? Re-writing that same pointless email for the 100th time? Painfully obvious when it’s all there in black and white.
But seeing the pitfalls isn’t just depressing — you can’t deny your progress either. Growth looks better with receipts.
Lesson #6: You’re Building Your Proof, One Messy Entry at a TimeFast forward: now I’ve got a year’s worth of this stuff.
• 365+ daily entries
• 50+ Twitter threads
• 30+ blog posts
• 10+ case studies
• Five digital products
So now, if anyone hits me up with, “How’d you do it?” I just show them. Clients see the receipts, partners see consistency, and it’s hard not to trust someone who’s got their entire saga out there for the world to gawk at.
TL;DR — documenting your journey isn’t just “building in public” or whatever the latest buzzword is. It’s your resume, your business plan, your highlight reel, and your blooper reel, all rolled into one. And man, it works.
