The Dark Truths of Solopreneurship (Nobody Talks About)

What I wish the internet had told me before divorcing, breaking my back, and burning out

Everyone wants to be a solopreneur.

I've been one since 2014.

But I've seen the trends. Watched the gurus rise and disappear. Burned out. Twice.

Inside? It’s a grind wrapped in isolation, pressure, and fear.

Here’s the brutal truth nobody’s selling:

It’s as lonely as hell

Nobody talks about the silence.

The heavy, suffocating kind that creeps in when you’re staring at your bedroom ceiling at 10 PM wondering if anyone even cares.

Solopreneurship sounds sexy until you realize it’s just you… and your thoughts… and your never-ending to-do list.

• No coworkers.

• No water cooler.

• No casual “Hey, how was your weekend?”

Just a never-ending solo game where you’re both the coach and the player. (Plus the janitor cleaning up the mess.)

The weird part is that you asked for this. You wanted freedom. Autonomy. To be your own boss.

And the worst part? You can’t complain.

And when you're alone with your thoughts, here's what creeps in:

• Overthinking

• Perfectionism

• Procrastinating

All this messes with your head.

Without any real feedback loop, you start overthinking everything:

• Was that email too aggressive?

• Is that offer good enough?

• Should I pivot?

• Should I quit?

You’re stuck in an endless mental loop where doubt sounds a lot like logic.

Being alone all the time doesn’t just drain your energy. It warps your judgment.

I'm an introvert. I don't like interacting with strangers. Sometimes it's even hard for me to bear that loneliness.

The problem is that most people around you don't understand this.

That's why I still do coaching for a handful of clients. That way, I break free from that loneliness.

Your brain is constantly on – 24/7

My brain is constantly in content mode. Everything I see, smell, touch, and think about could be a piece of content.

That's a good thing because… I never run out of content ideas.

But it's also really hard for me to close shop.

It's even worse if you're working from home.

There was a time when my bedroom was my office. So it felt like I was working even though I was sleeping.

Sometimes, you’ll be at dinner with your family, nodding politely. But in your mind, you’re rewriting that email subject line that didn’t get enough clicks.

Solopreneurship doesn’t give you a break.

Every new idea feels urgent. Every problem feels like a fire. Every delay feels like failure.

There’s no manager to say “That can wait.” There’s no team to hand things off to. So your brain stays stuck in go mode.

You need discipline not just to work, but to stop working.

That's why I like to set some clear boundaries about when to work and when not. I only work in the mornings. In the afternoon I might have a coaching call or podcast interview.

That's it.

Once a year, I go on a vacation where I try to totally disconnect for a week. (I said, I try!)

Your Stripe dashboard is your cardiogram

Solopreneurship comes with a rollercoaster income.

One month you’re a genius. The next, you’re Googling “cheap dinner ideas with canned tuna.”

Nobody prepares you for how violent the swings can be. You’re flying high after a great launch. Then, crawling through a dry spell, wondering if you should start applying for jobs again.

Traditional jobs pay you for time. Now, you get paid for results. That means no paycheck just for showing up. If your last launch flops, nobody’s coming to bail you out.

It can feel like you’re always behind. Like you’re one bad decision away from collapse. Like every launch has to hit or you’re screwed.

Some months will feel amazing. But even then, you’ll start wondering how long it’ll last.

The high of a $20K month fades fast when the next two bring in $900.

I remember that this got even more amplified when doing Jeff Walker launches, where you cash in dozens (or hundreds) of thousands of dollars in the matter of a few days and then nothing until you relaunch.

The unpredictability messes with your nervous system.

The real power isn’t in chasing the next big spike. It’s in smoothing the ride.

Build systems that bring money while you sleep—not just when you launch.

That's one of the reasons why I'm using automated email welcome sequences. I also have a library of courses with pre-written launch emails that I can rotate every month.

You eat what you kill

Most people talk about succeeding overnight, but what about losing everything overnight?

But that's way more how life works.

I could buy the nice car. But I’m still driving a 2014 Toyota Corolla.

Not because I’m broke. But because:

• I like simplicity

• I'm not attracted to the extravagant lifestyle

• I know what it looks like to lose everything overnight.

When you grow up middle-class, the idea of security is drilled into you. Get a stable job. Save. Don’t take risks. So even when you start making good money on your own, there’s this quiet, lurking fear:

What if it all disappears?

And it makes sense. Solopreneurship isn’t a salary. There’s no fallback plan. No employer cushion. You eat what you kill.

So even when things are going well, you don’t feel rich. You (try to) feel grateful.

That kind of fear changes your behavior.

The comparison game destroys your brain

No matter how successful you are, there's always going to be someone who's more successful than you.

In case you forgot, the internet is here to remind you. That's one of the core reasons why I hate social media (and don't have any of these apps installed on my phone.)

Scroll. Scroll. Feel like shit. Repeat.

You see the guy with 100K followers, launching again, talking about his $50K weekend. You were proud of your $12,000 month—until that post sucker destroyed your happiness.

And it’s never just numbers. It’s the polished setup. The fake enthusiasm. The endless content. The beach shots. The Lambos. The I’m just like you vibes from someone clearly not like you at all.

At the beginning, I thought that this was real until I actually saw what was happening behind the scenes.

Fake screenshots. Rented mansions. And Colgate smiles to mask a miserable inner deep hole.

The real comparison should be you against yourself.

The constant pressure

I love being my own boss because I'm unemployable.

But as a solopreneur, everything depends on you. And that’s not always a flex.

Sure, you can move fast. Make decisions on the fly. Launch something in a weekend. No need to check with a boss, a board, or a team.

But you also get to take the blame when it all crashes.

And it will:

• You’ll misread your audience.

• Build the wrong thing.

• Send the wrong email.

• Market it wrong.

• Price it wrong.

• Launch too soon.

• Launch too late.

There’s no one to catch your mistakes.

And because everything is riding on you, you feel like you always have to prove yourself.

You become your own worst boss.

The lifestyle destroys your health

Nobody tells you that “building your dream life” might wreck your body first.

I learned that the hard way.

Back in 2014, I had spinal surgery. Not from a car crash. Not from some extreme sport. From sitting too damn long chasing the hustle dream.

You’d think writing emails and building landing pages wouldn’t require a hospital visit. But sit for 10–12 hours a day, every day, for years—and your spine will snap like a breadstick.

It creeps up. You ignore the stiffness. Then the numbness. Then the sharp pain. And before you know it, you can’t even bend to tie your shoes.

People glamorize “grind mode” like it’s a badge of honor. Pulling all-nighters. Skipping workouts. Living on caffeine & Redbulls.

Cool. Until your body stops cooperating.

You don’t get far when sitting hurts. Or when standing hurts. Or when lying down hurts.

And it doesn’t just kill your body—it kills your output. You can’t focus when everything aches. You can’t create when you’re trying to manage pain.

No deadline is worth a broken back.

Stop whining or go back to your cubicle

The best way to avoid burnout and living a shitty life as a solopreneur is to be prepared and see what it looks like from the inside.

This game’s not for the fragile. In fact, most people can't handle it.

If you want certainty, go beg HR for your job back and enjoy the office cake on Fridays.

Otherwise?

Shut up, toughen up, and start building systems that keep you in the game.