Stop trying to become a success guru

After a few years of being in this space, I’ve watched a trap that consumes every creator-turned-entrepreneur:

Recursion syndrome

People start out writing from the heart, from their experiences, from all corners of their lives and the lives of those around them.

They share their tips and tricks to achieving different milestones, fixing or addressing internal and external challenges, vignettes and moments both brutal and tender…

Then, they start garnering more attention. The symptoms start to emerge…

It starts out small.

• “I got my first subscriber!”

• “I’m so grateful for my first sale!”

• "I can’t believe that X of you are following me!”

It’s genuine gratitude. It’s what puts a smile on people’s faces when they see it. They’re rooting for them and checking them out. Number go up. Metrics start to compound.

The dark magic begins.

Soon, the content starts to shift. The tips and tricks change to focus on how they grew their following and how to scale on [insert platform name here]. Giveaways. Prizes. Lead magnets. Entire articles start to focus on pitching the next big announcement in revealing secrets to how they made X amount of money.

Meanwhile, the metrics keep going up. More and more people want to know their secret. The message is clear: “If little old me can do it, then so can you!”

A few months later, the metamorphosis is complete. The syndrome has its hold on them.

If one were to start digging back in their timeline, they would the process; the zombification of their writing with each stage, each step being about the next external milestone. Their content has become purely about the process, nothing else. The monetary rewards are significant of course, but the soul of the content seems hollowed out. Marketing, promotions, countdowns to closing the next big thing dominate.

Then, nothing.

The recursion syndrome claims another aspiring solopreneur.

Those who recover from this affliction come back with a new story to tell: the tale of how this process consumed them, burned them out, and spit them back down into relative obscurity. They tell of their slow discovery that the entire cycle had become unsustainable to them. The late nights. The stress. The haters and trolls they endured in their rise.

They rediscover why they started in the first place.

That’s where the real journey begins.

This is what I’ve witnessed. Fortunately, I know it for what it is, and I’m avoiding this trap thanks to those who have shared their stories.

While I’ve occasionally shared some milestones in my time, I’ve been careful not to “make an offer” to my audience to start the process. It was a combination of life, luck, and lucidity that kept me from falling prey to it. It can get anyone. It doesn’t matter what walk of life you hale from. Those who have made it as solopreneurs have my respect, and more than a few are people I enjoy reading.

What I’m building isn’t something that relies on external metrics for that type of success. Visibility is definitely a big part of it, but it cannot be the CORE component. That’s why I’ve taken numerous courses, both from the people who put a few years effort into writing and the ones who retired from making it their entire career. You need both perspectives to see the big picture.

I know what I want to build now, but it’s only after writing hundreds of pieces about many different things that it emerged.

You have to dig through the dirt to reach the treasure that’s buried. Either that, or you give up and sell the shovels.

Which would you prefer?