So I spent about 15 years of my life doing something incredibly stupid.
And the worst part? I thought I was killing it the entire time.
I was proud of myself. I’d look at my growing follower count, my engagement numbers, the comments from people saying “this is amazing!” – and I’d think, “Yeah. I’m building something cool.”
I wasn’t building anything. I was digging.
My entire social media strategy was this: Make the thing. Post the thing. Count the likes. Hope money magically appears somewhere. Do it again tomorrow.
That was it. That was the whole plan.
I treated my creative career like a vending machine. Just keep shoving content into the slot, and eventually cash comes out the other end.
Except it worked more like one of those rigged claw machines at the boardwalk. You keep feeding it quarters. The claw grabs something fuzzy, holds it for one second, then drops it. At the end of the night you’d spent $40 on a stuffed penguin worth $2. And somehow you’re THANKING the machine for the experience.
It took me way too long to realize I was playing the wrong game. I tried to build an audience of people who appreciated my work… and confused that with actually getting paid.
Those are not the same thing. Not even close.
And that confusion? It has a name.
The Applause Trap
What I eventually figured out – and I’m a little mad nobody grabbed me by the shoulders and told me this ten years ago:
Fans clap. Customers buy. And you cannot deposit applause.
The entire creator economy – the platforms, the gurus, the “build your brand” advice – has been training you to chase the wrong thing. Not accidentally. DELIBERATELY. Because your attention makes THEM money whether it ever makes YOU a dime.
You’ve heard it: “Build an audience first, monetize later.” Grow the crowd and the money follows.
Bigger nets catch more fish, right?
Here’s what they don’t tell you: bigger nets also catch more seaweed, more garbage, and more empty beer cans. And you’re the one who has to sort through all of it. By hand.
What most creators end up doing is some version of Patreon, Ko-fi, tip jars, “buy me a coffee” buttons… and all of that runs on one very specific fuel:
People paying you to keep being you.
Your personality. Your presence. Your continued existence as their entertainment.
Now look – some people are naturally magnetic. They point a camera at their face and 10,000 people show up to watch them eat cereal. If that’s you, go with God. Seriously. Milk it.
But most of us?
We are NOT that person.
I am absolutely, categorically, without question not that person. I’d rather spend six hours creating something useful than trying to be charming on Instagram for 60 seconds. And for years I thought that was MY problem. Like something was wrong with me because I couldn’t turn my personality into a subscription service.
Nothing was wrong with me. The model was wrong. The whole “monetize your face” playbook was never designed for people like me.
Or maybe like you.
So let me show you what the math actually looks like when you try to force it anyway.
What $2,000/month actually costs
To hit $2,000 a month (not life-changing money, just “covers my gas and groceries” money) from $5 supporters on Patreon, you need roughly 400 people.
Not 400 followers.
Not 400 casual fans.
Not 400 people who double-tapped your last post while sitting on the toilet.
Four hundred human beings who feel so personally connected to YOU that they remember to keep handing you five dollars. While their own bills pile up. While subscription fatigue eats them alive. While Netflix, Spotify, and seventeen other services fight for that same five bucks.
That’s not an audience. That’s a small town where you’re simultaneously the mayor, the bartender, and the Saturday night entertainment.
And guess what? It’s very hard job.
So here’s what usually happens to the people who go down this road.
After two or three YEARS of daily content most creators end up with somewhere between 15 and 60 paying supporters. At $5 each, that’s $75 to $300 a month.
Let that sink in.
You can’t call that a creative career. Hell, you can’t even call it a side hustle. That’s an unpaid internship with a tip jar taped to your desk.
And it makes me furious because nobody warned these people. The platforms sure didn’t – they were too busy profiting from all that free content.
“But what about [famous creator]? THEY live off their audience!”
Sure. And a guy in Ohio won $768 million in the Powerball. You want to model your financial future after lottery winners? You want to bet your family’s stability on being the statistical anomaly?
Сreators who “made it” on pure audience support? Most of them caught a viral wave they didn’t engineer and cannot replicate. Random tweet explodes. The algorithm glitches and sends 200,000 people their way for 48 hours. They ride the wave, and everyone else points to them as proof the system works.
That’s not proof. That’s survivorship bias.
Сreators who actually sustain real income have something else running behind the scenes. Something you never see in their content. Something they almost never talk about.
We’ll get there in a moment.
Because first, I need to make a comparison that might make you uncomfortable. Stay with me – because it proves the point better than anything else I could say.
The naked ladies problem
When the product IS literally you – your personality, your presence, your daily output – congratulations. You just hired yourself as the only employee of a job that can never scale.
Every new fan is another relationship you have to maintain. You can’t hire someone to be you. You can’t automate your personality. You can’t put charisma on autopilot while you take your kid to the dentist.
You know what this model looks like when you crank it to eleven?
OnlyFans.
I know. I KNOW. But hear me out, because this is important.
Those creators are the purest, most distilled version of “I am the product.” Every single dollar they earn requires them to be more present, more available, more THEM.
Their content is… a different conversation. But the business model? The economics? The machinery of how the money flows?
It’s identical to what every “respectable” creator is doing. Just swap the ring light for a Wacom tablet and the subscription paywall for a Patreon tier. Same trap. Different outfit. Literally.
And here’s the part that really stings.
OnlyFans subscribers know what they’re paying for. They’re not donating out of goodwill. There’s a clear, unambiguous value exchange happening. Say what you want about it – at least it’s honest.
But YOUR sketches? Your music? Your crochet timelapses? People will say it’s amazing. They’ll like it, share it, tell their friends. They’ll call it incredible, inspirational, mind-blowing.
For free.
They just won’t call it worth $5 a month. Not because your work isn’t good. Because you never gave them a reason to pay – you gave them a reason to watch.
So you do more. Post more. Try harder. Get more likes. Grow the audience. And every month your bank account looks exactly the same as it did when you had half the followers.
This creator economy handed creative people a business model that demands they perform forever. With no exit strategy except burnout or bankruptcy.
I’ve spent years studying creative businesses that actually serve their owners instead of consuming them. And the model I just described violates every single principle of a healthy business. Every one.
And then it has the audacity to call that “following your passion.”
Which brings us to the real choice. The one nobody tells you about. Because there are really only two models hiding under the word “creator” – and most people don’t even know there’s a second option.
Model One: You build an audience and monetize the audience. You generate content, drive engagement, and keep people glued to their app. You’re building THEIR business while hoping yours happens by accident. That’s the deal nobody reads the fine print on.
Model Two: You make your own things and use the audience to show those things. You monetize the things – not yourself. The platform is just a megaphone.
Neither model is evil. Model One has made some people very rich and very famous. Good for them. Sincerely.
But here’s the thing: Most creatives are playing the first game without realizing it.
You will NEVER outperform clickbait by being good at your craft. A guy smashing watermelons with a sledgehammer will get more views in 24 hours than your best work gets in a year.
That’s not a complaint. That’s just how attention works.
Model One works beautifully – for entertainers. For people whose skill IS grabbing attention. But if your thing is any craft where the value is in the WORK – then Model One is an unwinnable game.
So stop playing it.
Stop being the product
Stop selling yourself. Sell THINGS you made.
That’s it. That’s the whole pivot.
Instead of “support me because you enjoy watching me work”… it becomes “buy this thing because it solves your problem.”
Instead of monetizing your personality… monetize your expertise.
Instead of being the product… BUILD one.
And just to be clear – I’m not telling you to stop doing what you love. Not even close. You keep making your art, your sculpting, your knitting, whatever lights you up. Just stop expecting a round of applause to cover your mortgage.
So there’s a dead-simple way to figure out which game you’re currently playing.
Two questions, two completely different businesses
A follower asks: “What’s new with YOU?”
A buyer asks: “What does this do for ME?”
Read those again. Slowly. Out loud if you have to.
A follower consumes your content the way they consume Netflix. Background noise. Entertainment. Inspiration. Something to scroll through during lunch.
A customer evaluates what you made the way you evaluate a cordless drill at Home Depot. Does it work? Is it worth $79? Will it still be useful next month? Can I build something with this?
The moment you offer something that answers that second question, everything flips.
You stop competing for emotional investment and start competing on value.
And value? That’s a game you can actually win without destroying your mental health in the process.
“Cool, but WHAT product?”
Fair question. “Build a product” is about as helpful as “just eat healthier.” Technically correct, practically useless.
So let’s get specific.
If you’re already showing people your skill every day for free… Take that same skill and wrap it into something people can USE. Not admire. USE.
Think about a street musician.
Guitar case open, playing for tips on the corner. Beautiful music. Real talent. Completely dependent on whether someone happens to walk by, happens to stop, happens to feel generous, AND happens to have cash.
The same musician could take their best loops, package them into a sample pack, and sell it for $49. Or license their compositions for $1000+. Or teach their techniques in a course for $397.
Same talent. Same skill. Same person. Completely different relationship with money.
Drawing something?
Stop running a Patreon where supporters get “early access” to… more art to look at. That’s like a restaurant giving VIP customers a window into the kitchen. Cool view, but they’re still hungry.
Instead: take your work and package it into a 40-page comic. Characters. A story arc. A beginning, middle, and end. Price it at $12.99 on Gumroad.
Now people don’t decide if they like YOU enough to subsidize your life. They decide if they want to read THIS STORY.
Completely different decision. Completely different economics.
Making stunning photos?
Bundle your editing workflow into 30 Lightroom presets with before/after examples and a 15-minute tutorial video. Sell the pack for $39.
Or create a location guide: “47 Spots in Lisbon Most Tourists Walk Right Past – With GPS Pins, Best Times to Shoot, and Sample Settings for Each Location.” Sell it for $29.
Nobody needs to admire YOUR photos. They need better photos from THEIR next trip.
See the pattern?
Same creative skill, just repackaged from “appreciate me” into “use this.” Solve THEIR problem. Not your ego.
And the second that happens, three things change:
- The buyer doesn’t need to know who you are. They don’t need to follow you, like you, or feel emotionally bonded to your journey. They just need to want the thing.
- The purchase doesn’t depend on emotional attachment. It depends on whether the thing solves a problem worth paying for. That’s a transaction. That’s BUSINESS.
- You stop being the product. You become the person who MAKES products. Which means you can make another one. And another. Without performing 24/7 like some kind of content-generating hamster on a wheel.
I know a 3D artist who spent a decade building a YouTube channel. Grew it over 500,000 subscribers. Then he took his best tutorial content, organized it, and put it behind a paywall. Six months later, he earned more than the previous ten years of tip jar donations and youtube payouts.
Combined.
Read that again. Six months versus TEN YEARS. That’s not an improvement – that’s a completely different universe.
Now, before you go torching your follower list – hold on. Because I’m not saying what you think I’m saying.
“So my followers are worthless?”
No. God, no. The opposite.
Your audience matters. It matters enormously. Just not for the reason you’ve been told.
Followers aren’t your customers – they’re your distribution channel. Your audience is a storefront window on a busy street. It doesn’t buy anything. It just makes sure the right people stop and look.
So you don’t need more followers to buy from you – you need more followers to AMPLIFY what you sell.
A creator with 800 engaged followers and a $49 preset pack that saves people three hours will absolutely crush a creator with 50,000 followers and a tip jar.
Every. Single. Time.
Because the first creator’s audience is a launchpad. The second creator’s audience IS the entire business. One scales. The other begs. And the begging is slowly eating them alive.
Don’t burn what you’ve earned. Just stop expecting your followers to be your cash flow source. They were never designed for that. A megaphone is not a cash register. So otop screaming into it and wondering why money doesn’t come out.
Today I have almost zero social media following. No viral tweets. No LinkedIn army. No fanbase emotionally attached to my face. When I say zero following, I mean the public kind. I don’t post for likes, and I don’t care about my profile.
Meanwhile, my email list and digital products bring in more money every month than all of my creative work ever did. Just because I stopped expecting people to appreciate me… and made a few things people wanted to USE.
“Great. I’ll make a product. Problem solved.”
Not quite. Because here is the part where nearly everyone faceplants.
Having a product and making sales are two very different things
Owning a gym doesn’t mean you have members. One is a building with equipment. The other is a business. And the gap between those two things has swallowed more creative dreams than imposter syndrome and student debt combined.
You can create the most useful sample pack, the most beautiful comic, the best preset bundle on the planet… And it’ll collect dust if nobody understands how it helps them.
People spend weeks (sometimes months) perfecting their products. Then they slap a link in their bio and sit back and wait. And wait. And refresh the page. And wait some more.
Here’s the truth nobody wants to hear: the product isn’t the hard part. Especially not for someone who’s been honing their craft for years. You already have the skills. You already have the knowledge. Building the thing is the part you’re GOOD at.
The hard part is the system that makes the right people WANT to buy it.
Remember earlier when I said successful creators have something running behind the scenes that you never see?
This is it. This is the thing.
Not more content. Not a bigger following. Not a better logo or a fancier website.
A system. A sequence. A specific, unsexy, absolutely-not-glamorous flow that takes someone from “never heard of you” to “just bought your thing.”
It includes how they find you. What makes them stop scrolling. What happens in the gap between “huh, interesting” and “here’s my credit card.”
The plumbing. The infrastructure. The machine that works whether you post today or not. Whether you feel inspired or not. Whether you’re on vacation or at the dentist or sleeping.
If you want the full breakdown of exactly how that flow works…
>>> Read how to sell your online products here
That’s the real choice. And it’s one nobody presents to you clearly.
You can keep performing. Keep posting. Keep measuring your worth in likes from people who will NEVER open their wallet. Keep running on that backwards treadmill until your legs give out. Plenty of creators do. Their feeds look great. Their bank accounts don’t.
Or you can take the thing you’ve spent years mastering, wrap it into something useful, add a simple automation that delivers it. Then let the activity you love doing actually pay you back.
One path keeps you a starving artist with excellent engagement metrics.
The other makes you a business owner who happens to make incredible art.
Your call.
P.S. If you just read this whole thing nodding along but still don’t have a product to sell – you’re closer than you think. The skill you’ve been giving away for free IS the product. You just haven’t packaged it yet.
P.P.S. If you already made a course that should be selling but isn’t – read this guide. It covers the exact reasons that happens. It’s free because I’m a nice person and also because it proves a point about what a good offer looks like.