It’s a cliché, I know. But still, I do believe we learn from our mistakes.
And let me tell you: I’ve made quite a few since starting out as a solopreneur. First, I was side-hustling while still working a 9-to-5. Then I quit that much-hated job and jumped into self-employment full time. Since then, I’ve hit walls, changed directions, and made so many questionable decisions I could probably write a small book about them. Actually… that’s kind of what I’m doing here.
There were projects I worked on for weeks. I’m talking concept, research, copy, design, brand identity. The whole thing. Ready to be published, shared with the world… and then I just never did it.
For so many reasons.
Fear, doubt, boredom, burnout…
There were projects I actually launched, gave my energy to, believed in, and then stopped halfway through. They failed. Or I gave up. Or both.
I even almost joined a startup. Yes. We were already at the point of trying to book an appointment with a notary so I could officially be part of the company. That never happened either. Because I did not want to be part of it anymore.
And when I first started freelancing? Oh gosh. I had no clue what I was doing. No idea what services to offer, how to price things, how to talk to clients, where to find them, who I even wanted to work with, or why I wanted to do any of it in the first place. I was just… trying. In every direction. All at once.
It took me a long time to figure out what I actually wanted to do. It cost me time. Energy. Tears. A lot of self-doubt. And quite a lot of money too.
Like that time in 2022 when I thought buying an Instagram Reels course for almost 800€ was a brilliant idea. I convinced myself it was “an investment.” That it would “pay off.”
I haven’t even done a third of it. In fact, I never got past the beginning. And truthfully? I don’t even like Instagram. I never liked it. It drains me. I feel awkward, fake, and performative on there. I don’t enjoy making Reels. So, yeah, what was I thinking?
I felt a bit scammed. But mostly I just felt stupid. Embarrassed. Like I fell for something I should’ve seen through.
But hey, we learn from our mistakes, right?
Or do we?
I’m not sure anymore if that’s actually true, or just something we say to ourselves to feel a little less terrible after making bad decisions.
Nobody told me how hard it would be to run my own business. I mean, I’m not stupid. I didn’t expect it to be easy. I didn’t think it would magically “work out” after a month. I never believed I’d hit six figures in a year. Of course not.
But still… I didn’t expect it to be this hard.
And the thing is: in my circle of friends and family, nobody had their own business. Not a single solopreneur. Not even someone with a creative side project that made a few euros on the side. No one to ask questions. No one to get advice from. No one who had done it before and could say, “Hey, don’t worry, that’s normal,” or “Here’s what worked for me.”
I had no real opportunities to get mentoring, guidance, or even an outside opinion.
Could I have created that opportunity for myself? Could I have stepped outside my comfort zone, joined communities, sent a few brave DMs, and found someone to talk to?
Yes. I absolutely could have.
But I never would have.
I’m an introvert. I hate bothering people. Asking someone for help feels like I’m intruding. Who am I to rob someone of their precious time just to answer my questions?
You see… that’s already a mistake.
Not a failed project. Not a strategy gone wrong. But a mindset mistake.
To believe that no one wants to help you unless they get something out of it. To assume people won’t share advice unless they can turn it into a product or a course or a sale.
Maybe that belief came from the fact that so many people online are “helping” by shoving expensive, low-quality courses down your throat. Courses you’ll probably never finish (again: guilty). Courses that don’t actually solve the problems you have.
And look, I get it. Time is money. Especially when you’re a solopreneur or creative trying to do everything alone. But now that I’ve lived through this for a couple of years, I do believe this: if I had searched long enough (really searched) I could have found someone who genuinely wanted to help. Or a community that wasn’t just there to sell me things but to support people like me.
Even if that community had been a paid one, it would have been so much cheaper (and more useful) than wasting 800€ on a course I didn’t need, or burning out trying to figure everything out on my own.
That’s one of the many reasons why I created Gentle Hustle.
Because I wanted to build the kind of space I wish I had back when I first started this solopreneur journey in 2022. A community for creatives, solopreneurs and freelancers who don’t have it all figured out yet, who want real talk, mutual support, and honesty. A place where mistakes are normal, not shameful. Where you can grow at your own pace. Where people are kind.
And if that sounds like something you’ve been missing too: you’re welcome to join! I’d love to hear about your project(s). Or your fun failures (we’ve all got them).
Actually… I’m about to start sharing mine.
A Series of Fails
From June to December, I’m starting something new for paid subscribers: a 7-part Series of Fails.
Once a month, I’ll share a story of something I tried and failed at. But these won’t just be stories to laugh at. I’ll break down why I failed, what went wrong, what I could have done differently, and what I learned.
If you can learn from my mistakes, then maybe they weren’t for nothing. Maybe they’re not just part of my growth, but something that can save you time, energy, effort and money.
In this series, you’ll hear things like:
The time I genuinely thought I could help name people’s babies… at the age of 24… with no experience besides naming two dolls and a childhood dog.
The time I tried to replace my 9-to-5 job by selling printable PDFs on Etsy.
My very first freelancing gigs, where one client underpaid me and eventually stopped paying me at all.
And many more.
So if you’re in the mood for honest stories, some light (and heavy) cringe, a few laughs, and a ton of lessons, I think we’ll have a really good time together!
Feel free to share this with someone you know who might enjoy it.
Thanks for reading.
And truly, thank you for being here,
Maude
