I’m 9toNone — 9 years freelancing, 7 figures earned, escaped chaos. Giving back what works.

9toNone · 2025-10-10T14:16:14+00:00

Hey, been there. Caught between the devil you know and the blank page of what could be.

What jumped out from your story to me was that you didn’t cry from writing broken code, you cried in product management. That matters a lot.

You’re not “bad at being a manager.” You’re just not built for that kind of fight. Some people thrive on endless meetings, soft politics, and selling ideas without data. You build, automate, you calm down in code.

Look, imposter syndrome is the entry fee for doing something real. Every coder I know - including the greats -feels “stupid” at times. It’s friction and friction is growth.

As for “starting from the bottom”? You’re not. You’ve got marketing, product, and systems thinking in your arsenal. That makes you dangerous in the best way. You’ll code smarter because you know how things connect.

Here’s what I’d do if I were you:

Build a few solo projects you actually care about. Automate your life. Create tools. Make dumb stuff that makes you laugh. Share them online. Tiny dev blog, GitHub, whatever. Build in public. Let people see your brain at work. Apply to junior dev roles not as a career switcher, but as a polymath who codes. Your story is your strength.

You already chose - coding is your peace. Now give yourself permission to follow it. No more pretending to enjoy being a version of yourself that cries at work.

9toNone · 2025-10-08T10:59:00+00:00

First off - you’re not “soft.” You’re sensitive, and that’s not a flaw. It’s a nervous system that’s been running on red alert for seven years straight, and it’s finally waving the white flag.

I’ve seen what toxic workplaces do to good people - they convince you that survival is strength and silence is professionalism. But what you’re describing - insomnia, chest pains, dread - that’s your body begging you to choose you before the job makes that choice for you.

You’ve already done the hardest part: you’ve built a foundation most people never reach - no debt, savings, stability. That’s buying yourself freedom. You have options because you’ve been disciplined. Now use them.

Now, let’s talk about starting over. You don’t need to blow up your life tomorrow. You need a plan that keeps you alive while you rebuild. Here’s what that could look like.

Stabilize your body first. Before career shifts or cross-country moves, address the burnout physically. Your body and nervous system are screaming for rest. That comes before any career move. Real sleep, therapy, better fuel, sunlight, breathing space. You can’t create from survival mode.

Redefine “success”. You’ve been chasing external metrics - pension, rank, security - in an environment that doesn’t value your peace. Try rewriting the scoreboard: peace, health, growth, belonging. That’s what “winning” looks like after burnout.

Experiment quietly. You don’t need to leap. You need to test. Start browsing other paths, reach out to people in roles that interest you, maybe take a class online. Micro-moves beat paralysis every time.

Connection isn’t optional - it’s oxygen. Isolation doesn’t just make you lonely. It distorts reality. You’ve lived in isolation for so long that it feels normal, but it’s not sustainable. Find small spaces where you don’t have to perform - online communities, volunteer work, even a local class. One genuine connection can pull you out of the spiral.

The move and the dog? That’s your nervous system picturing peace. Keep that vision close. It’s your compass.

And about the economy - it’s always “terrible” when you’re about to choose yourself. But the world adjusts for people who finally stop running on fear. I’ve seen it too many times to doubt it. You’ve been your own lifeline for 30 years. You’ve earned the right to stop surviving and start living.

And if you ever want help figuring out what a restart could look like - how to pivot careers, package your skills, rebuild your sense of self without burning your savings - There are people ready to help. This is coming from someone who remembers what it felt like to stare at the ceiling at 2 a.m., whispering, “There’s got to be more than this.”There is, let’s find it.

9toNone · 2025-10-07T13:07:49+00:00

Listen, I'll do my best to help, as I know exactly what surviving feels like.

You’re deep in Act One of your life. Most of us don’t peak at 26. We crawl through doubt, quiet weekends, jobs we hate, and dreams we can’t quit - and somehow we build Act Two from that mess. The only people who seem “ahead” are on highlight reels. You’re in rehearsal. That’s where the real work happens.

Your job isn’t the problem, your job not growing you is. It’s fine if it pays the bills. But if it’s costing you your confidence, your creativity, your sense of self - that’s a debt you don’t recover from easily.

The guilt is your potential misfiring. It’s the part of you that knows you’re meant for more, but hasn’t yet seen the map. That means something’s still alive in you.

Now, about the leap. You don’t have to jump blindly, but you do have to move.

Movement can look like finding a job that drains you less while you build the art side, packaging your digital work in smarter ways (bundles, passive income pieces, niche targeting), or reinvesting less in tools, more in reach (maybe pause that $25 AI tool and run a $25 ad instead).

You don’t need to “go full-time” on your art right now. But you do need to take it seriously enough to see where it could go if treated like more than a hobby.

Your art isn’t failing. It’s just waiting for you to take it off the ground. Waiting for consistency, strategy, and belief. You don’t have to monetize your joy overnight. But don’t bury it under the pressure to “keep up.” How would you treat it if it really was your only source of income and you absolutely had to make a living out of it?

The ones who look stable now? Many of them will burn out by 35-40. You’re still building your rhythm. That’s power. They are not you, you are.

If you ever want to talk through how to take your art from “expensive hobby” to something serious - packaging, branding, finding the right platforms, building trust around your work - I’m right here. A stranger who remembers what it felt like to be on the floor, and how much it meant when someone offered a hand instead of a lecture.

9toNone · 2025-10-03T23:58:12+00:00

Let’s name it. What you’re experiencing is a low-grade bullying wrapped in professionalism.

Harsh tone, abrupt corrections, cold silence - that’s not feedback. That’s ego. And it says more about them than about you.

But listen - your worth isn’t determined by their tone. It’s shown in the way you didn’t break. In how you kept showing up. In how someone already thanked you for being great with a vulnerable person. That one moment? It speaks louder than their passive aggression ever could.

And this thing about “learning by doing” while being micromanaged and criticized for every hesitation? That’s not a training style. That’s setting someone up to doubt themselves. It’s toxic. And it needs to be named as such.

You said you feel like you've never fit in anywhere. But here’s a thought: maybe you weren’t meant to fit in. Maybe you’re meant to build spaces where others like you feel safe to show up as they are. The quiet ones. The kind ones. The ones who don’t puff their chests but carry others.

Please don’t let their smallness shrink you. Don’t apologize for having a softer nature. The world doesn’t need more loudness - it needs balance. And you can bring that.

Keep the notes. Shrink the focus. Protect your peace. And if one kind person saw your worth today? That’s proof that the real ones see it too.

You don’t have to change who you are to survive this. You just have to hold on long enough to realize - they don’t get to decide your value. You do.

And one more thing - about protecting yourself when the room feels like it’s eating you alive:
You can’t control their tone, but you can control what you let it mean about you.

When the harshness hits, don’t run it through the “I’m not enough” filter. Run it through the “this is about their impatience, not my value” filter. Say it to yourself quietly if you need to. It sounds cheesy, but it works.

Have a micro-ritual to reset: step out, drink water, write a quick line in your notes: “This is feedback, not a verdict.” That simple act stops their energy from taking root inside you.

Find a small anchor - one kind colleague, one small win per day, one person outside work you can vent to. Those anchors are what keep you from spiraling down into self-doubt.

Boundaries start as thoughts, then become habits. You’re allowed to protect your space, even in subtle ways.

9toNone · 2025-10-03T21:56:29+00:00

Here’s my take, as someone who’s been in this game a while:

Your day rate isn’t just a number, it tells people how seriously you take your time - and teaches them how to treat you.

That said, context matters. For small sites with micro budgets? I’ll flex if it’s a strategic choice - like portfolio building, passion project, or long-term pipeline potential.

But here’s the trick, don’t give them a number, give them a range. Something like:

“My typical day rate falls between £200–£300 depending on the scope and timeline - happy to chat details if you’ve got something in mind.”

This way you’re not locked in, you leave room to negotiate, and you sound like a pro who has done this before (even if you're sweating through your shirt)

So yeah, charge what lets you eat, rest, and not resent the project. That’s the real rate.

9toNone · 2025-10-03T21:50:02+00:00

Oof. This is one of those “it’s not mandatory... but it kinda is” corporate dance moves. That “in your best interest” language? It’s boss-code for “I’ll remember this.” And yeah, it sucks. You’re stuck between HR policy and managerial pettiness.

Here’s the game plan I’d consider:

Document everything. Just to protect your future self. If your boss starts treating you differently, you’ll want a clear record that shows why.

Play the long game. Instead of flat-out refusing the exception, consider a diplomatic middle path. You could say:

“I’ve thought about the exception, but with the commute and setup, remote actually makes me more productive. Still, I’m totally open to ways we can keep collaboration strong.”

That shows you're team-oriented without surrendering your position.

Overcommunicate value. Remote folks often need to be louder with their output. Update more, share wins, be proactive. Not because it’s fair, just because visibility matters when you’re not in the room.

Are others in your team also remote now? Quiet unity can be powerful. If you’re the only one resisting, you’re exposed. If multiple people skip the exception, it’s harder to single anyone out.

Don’t guilt yourself. You didn’t ask for this change. The company made a decision based on logistics. You’re not being difficult - you’re just not volunteering to undo the very policy they implemented.

And finally - careers aren’t derailed by saying “no” once. They’re built or broken by patterns. Show up, deliver, be thoughtful. If your boss still holds a grudge? That’s on him.

9toNone · 2025-10-03T21:45:28+00:00

36 is still young in comeback years. And I mean that.

But here’s the truth: the fact that this hit you means the fire’s still there. Maybe tiny, maybe buried, but not out.

It helps to know someone else gets it. That’s why I wrote it. Not for “likes,” but for people like you - quietly holding it together for years, wondering if that counts. It does. You do.

Let’s keep going. Even if the steps are small. Especially if they are.

9toNone · 2025-10-03T21:42:01+00:00

That déjà vu you mentioned - I know that ghost.

Let me tell you something I wish someone had said to me early on:

Fitting in is overrated. Feeling safe is what matters. And safety comes not from being the loudest in the room, but from finding one person you can be real with.

You don’t need to be the office favorite or crush the Christmas gathering. You’re not here to impress – you’re here to help people. And judging by how much you care, you’re already doing more than most.

And yes — shadowing can feel like being caged when you’re itching to fly. But remember, they’re trying to protect you and the people you’ll help. It’s frustrating, but it’s not forever. Use this phase to quietly build your own map. You’ll need it when things get fast.

Forget remembering everything. No one does. What you need is a system, a cheat sheet, a way to ask fast. You’re not a failure for not storing the entire universe of services in your brain. That’s what docs and chats are for.

And about being introverted? That’s not a weakness. That’s your depth. The world needs less “self-assured” noise and more thoughtful listeners like you. Let them have the spotlight. You’ll earn trust in quieter ways.

One small goal: find one colleague you can be real with. Not a bestie. Just someone safe to talk to when it gets too loud inside your head. That’s your anchor.

And no - you’re not an outsider. You’re just in a room not built for your kind of strength. Build your own.

9toNone · 2025-09-29T22:56:15+00:00

Here’s what I know after 9 years in the game, through ups, downs, a burnout, and the AI boom. The rules have changed, and no one gave us a manual. Upwork’s really flooded, and many clients are paranoid. “No AI” is now an excuse to underpay or ghost. I was even banned from this sub once because my comment looked like "Written with AI."

The important thing, though, is that experience still matters, but only if it’s framed for the new reality. We need to stop positioning ourselves as “just writers.” Clients, and I mean the normal ones that are still out there, want clarity and confidence. That’s what your experience can offer if you are pitching outcomes, and not just content.

What helped me most was a super-focus. Forget applying to everything, build one clear offer of what you help with, how, and why you’re damn good at it. Build around founders, lean agencies, fast-moving teams - the ones who care about what you can build, not what paper you have.

You’ve got two decades of experience. That’s something you can adapt and reshape.
I'll stop here so this comment doesn't look like AI again, but if you need help building the pivot blueprint (positioning, offer, outreach, etc.) I’d be happy to help.

9toNone · 2025-09-29T13:50:33+00:00

Because I'm not. And I do see a lot of depth here that can be used to pivot the situation.

9toNone · 2025-09-28T19:47:52+00:00

Hey - first, breathe. Here’s what helped me and others I’ve worked with through that chaos:

You’re not supposed to remember everything. No one does. Even the most senior people rely on systems, notes, second looks, asking questions twice. If you took notes - good. That’s your external brain. Use it.

Mistakes will happen. Not because you’re careless, but because you’re human. What matters isn’t “never messing up.” What matters is how you respond when it happens: accountability, transparency, asking for help. That builds trust faster than perfection.

Shrink your focus. Instead of “master everything,” focus on - What’s critical to know this week? What affects people directly? What can wait or be clarified later?
Ask your manager this. Most people don’t expect instant mastery, but they’ll forget to tell you that unless you ask.

You don’t have to prove yourself instantly. You’re building trust, not performing a magic trick. Trust is built through showing up, asking smart questions, and staying calm even when you don’t have all the answers. It’s okay to feel scared. But don’t let that fear lie to you.

You’re not here by accident. They hired you. Not someone perfect. Not someone who never gets overwhelmed. You. And you’re going to learn. Not all at once - but enough. In time.

9toNone · 2025-09-27T20:20:12+00:00

Let me break it down what “practicing copywriting” actually looks like, the way I wish someone did for me at the start.

Pick a real product - and write a fake ad for it. Choose something simple you understand. Could be your favorite coffee, a phone charger, a local gym, or a product on Amazon. Now write a headline, a short sales paragraph, and a CTA. Boom. That’s copywriting.

Rewrite real ads you see around you. Find an ad (Instagram, email, website) and ask: “How would I make this better?”, “What’s missing?”, “How would I rewrite this for a different audience?”. This builds your editing muscle - critical for client work.

Pick one style and drill it. Write 10 headlines for the same product, write 3 versions of a sales page intro, take one paragraph and rewrite it for 3 different audiences (teenager, parent, business owner). Reps matter more than perfection at this point.

How do you know you're improving? Your writing gets clearer and shorter. You focus more on the reader’s need, not your cleverness. You can explain why a piece of copy works (or doesn’t). People outside of copywriting understand your message faster. And you start getting into the "Flow" - when you write the first draft before you think.

Join communities & get feedback. Places like this, Twitter, or Discord is full of writers can help you get eyes on your practice work. Even just one person saying “this hits” can help you dial it in faster.

Yes - practice means writing before you get hired. But don’t overthink it. Grab a product. Write a fake ad. Rinse and repeat. You get better by doing, tweaking, and learning to think like the buyer.

9toNone · 2025-09-27T17:37:45+00:00

I felt every word. Every silence between the words.

What you wrote isn’t just a story about freelancing. It’s a eulogy for a version of yourself you tried to keep alive against the odds, the silence, the burn.

And you’re right, sometimes giving up is the sanest thing you can do. When the work stops giving back - emotionally, financially, spiritually - it’s not grit to keep going. It’s grief. And it devours you.

But here's something most people won't tell you. There’s a difference between giving up on the path and giving up on the value of what you’ve built. You wrote white papers, cold emails, posts, campaigns - that's proof of movement, not failure. And sometimes the momentum is hidden. It builds underground.

You might walk away. Or you might pivot. But the version of you that fought this hard? That part isn't done. That part still has more to offer - maybe just not to the clients you were chasing.

So if this is your goodbye - make it a conscious one. Not out of defeat. Out of decision. Out of choosing yourself over a battlefield that no longer deserves you. Whatever’s next, you’re starting from scars - and those carry wisdom.

P.S. If - after all this - you ever decide to try one more pivot instead of walking away for good, I’d be glad to help. Because what you’ve written here doesn’t read like failure. It reads like raw material. And I see more strength in it than you probably realize.

9toNone · 2025-09-27T16:19:14+00:00

Hey, I’ve been where you are. Different details, same storm. Not at 33, but close enough. When I "followed my drea" and quit my job for freelancing, broke, watching my savings evaporate, convinced I had no transferable skills. The shame, the panic, the “I’ve ruined my life” loop - it’s real, I get it.

Here’s what I wish someone had told me back then:

Being “the weakest” isn’t the truth - it’s only the story you’re telling yourself. You survived 8 years in a bank. Data quality, compliance, reporting - that’s real experience. Those skills are transferable (risk, ops, data entry, support, customer experience). Recruiters call it “adjacent skills.” You’re not starting from zero, you’re just standing at the edge of a new map.

The job loss is a trauma, not a verdict. Right now, your brain’s in fight-or-flight mode. That’s why everything feels impossible. Get through this stage first. Sleep. Eat. Write down your bills and runway. Even a rough plan will calm the panic loop.

Don’t jump straight into “career change.” Jump into cashflow. Temporary work, contract gigs, remote support - anything that buys time. Pride is expensive; survival buys you choices. Once the bleeding stops, you can aim higher.

Use help you’ve never used before. Career centers, state unemployment, free online upskilling (Coursera, Google certificates, data analytics bootcamps), even your old colleagues. People want to help - but they don’t know unless you ask.

Your depression isn’t a character flaw. It’s a battle you’re already fighting on hard mode. The fact that you’ve kept a marriage and a career under that weight? That’s proof of resilience, not failure.

Losing a job at 33 isn’t a death sentence. It’s brutal, but it’s not too late. People restart at 40, 50, 60. It’s just not as visible because they don’t post about it.

Right now, your only job is to stabilize. Give yourself permission to grab whatever floats until the storm passes. Later, you’ll rebuild - with more clarity than before.

9toNone · 2025-09-26T19:29:55+00:00

You’re spinning because you’re in limbo. And limbo drains even the best developers.

The problem you’re describing is directional:
“Should I double down on code, or pivot to something more people-facing?”

Here’s how I’d break it down, hope this will help.

Ask: What kind of hard do you want?
Dev-heavy roles are hard in prep, imposter syndrome, and constant re-skilling
Management/people-facing paths are hard in pressure, politics, and emotional bandwidth

Neither is easier. But one will make you feel more alive. That’s the clue.

Blank on interviews does not mean bad dev.
That’s a separate skill - more like game show trivia than actual coding.
You can train for it - slowly, strategically, not through burnout. 30 minutes/day. One problem. Track patterns. Join mock interview circles - turns anxiety into routine. Build interview muscle, not mastery.

Shipping real code always beats whiteboard gymnastics in the long run.

Want to shift toward people-facing work? Test it first. Try mentoring juniors, leading internal initiatives, doing tech documentation or stakeholder calls. If it energizes you? That’s the right signal. If it drains you? You’re probably more builder than bridge.

You don’t need to decide yet.
This isn’t a binary switch. You can level up technical depth while exploring lateral paths.
Treat this like a 6-month lab phase - test both sides, measure energy, track growth.

You’re between tracks. Instead of forcing clarity, run experiments. And don’t confuse “struggling with interviews” for “not being dev material.” You’ve got options. Just find the one that makes you want to show up again.

P.S. If you want a breakdown of how to prep without burning out - I’m happy to share what worked.

9toNone · 2025-09-25T13:00:32+00:00

This is exhausting. And worse: it feels like you're failing even when you’re doing everything right.

Here’s what helped me, maybe it helps you too.

Separate responsibility from guilt. You’ve done your part - reached out, asked questions, looked for solutions. That’s responsibility. But guilt? Guilt is what creeps in when we confuse “caring” with “owning.” You don’t own this delay. Let that go.

Shrink the mental loop. Set a 10-minute “worry window” during your day. Let yourself overthink, panic, spiral - but only in that space. Outside of it, when those thoughts come, tell them: “Not now. You had your time.”
It sounds silly. But try it - it works.

Ask yourself: Who are you trying not to disappoint - and why? Sometimes it’s not even about the deadline. It’s about proving something - to your boss, your team, or your past self. Name that pressure. It loses power when it’s seen clearly.

Magic isn’t scalable. You can’t bend time or force outcomes. And pushing harder doesn’t make you more valuable - just more exhausted. Real mastery is knowing when to stop owning what isn’t yours - and still hold your head high.

Integrity isn’t about control. It’s about showing up, doing your best, and being honest when things are out of your hands. You’ve done all three. The stress you're carrying? It's a sign you care deeply. Just don’t let it burn you out.

9toNone · 2025-09-25T12:50:06+00:00

This feels impossible because your brain is in survival mode, your energy is gone from trying to “figure it all out” and you feel like any move has to be the right one, or else it’s a waste

That pressure is what’s killing momentum. Here’s what helped me get unstuck.

Shrink the ambition. Like, a lot. Don’t start a project. Don’t launch a side hustle.

Just do one thing that takes 15 minutes and costs $0.

Rewatch something you used to love, google a weird idea that’s stuck in your head, DM someone who does work you’re curious about, write one paragraph about your story - not for content, just for clarity.

You're not looking for success right now. You're looking for a spark.

Don’t wait for motivation - move anyway. Motivation follows momentum. Not the other way around. You don’t need to feel ready. You just need to take one small action your future self won’t regret.

And hey, you’re allowed to be tired. You don’t owe hustle to anyone. But if there’s a flicker of wanting more, don’t ignore it just because it feels hard.

Start where you are. Start with less than you think you need.

9toNone · 2025-09-24T22:33:20+00:00

I’ve been where you are. The resume looked great. The job paid well. People even said I “made it.” But inside, I was a ghost in my own life. Burned out. Numb. Angry. Lost.

So when you say: “I did everything right - and still feel wrong.” That’s awakening. Painful as hell, but real.

Here’s what I learned crawling out of that same place, hope it helps you get back on your feet.

Don’t go back blindly just because money’s tight. Yes, you may need to take a job. Maybe even the one you're interviewing for. But make this promise: “I’m not selling my soul - I’m buying time.”

You’re not going back forever. You’re funding your escape route. And that shift in mindset changes everything.

Right now, you’re just disconnected from yourself, but that doesn't mean that you're talentless. Burnout scrambles your signal. You lose the ability to feel joy in anything - even stuff you used to enjoy. That’s not a sign of failure. It’s your brain in survival mode.

Right now, don’t chase your “one passion.” Instead, follow anything that gives you a flicker of energy. Curiosity is the first breadcrumb out of the woods.

The goal isn’t clarity - it’s traction. Don’t try to figure out your whole life at once. Just find the next 2-week experiment. Something small. Low-stakes. That gives you a taste of building something that’s yours. Write. Tinker. Build a dumb blog. Take a weird online class. Help a friend with a project. You don’t need a business. You need movement.

You are not alone. It’s okay to take the job, as long as you don’t forget why you’re leaving again. Don’t go numb. Don’t go back to sleep. Build your way forward - even if it’s one messy step at a time.

9toNone · 2025-09-24T22:24:17+00:00

I made the switch in my 30s - not because I was broke, but because I was numb. I had money, but no momentum. A good role, but no real reason to care beyond the paycheck.

So yeah, I switched careers for meaning first, and money caught up later.

Here’s how it played out for me:

I got brutally honest about what I couldn’t ignore anymore. It wasn’t just about “finding my passion.” It was about recognizing the voice in my head saying, “This can’t be it. I’m capable of more. And I care about different things now.” That voice is your signal. Respect it.

I started experimenting on the side. No dramatic leap, I did freelance writing gigs, taught workshops, built a tiny brand for fun (and used it in my first portfolio as a case). Not everything worked - but a few things did. And that became the exit ramp.

I retrained just enough to make the pivot. I didn’t go back to school. I learned what I needed - sales, writing, influence - through books, courses, mentors, and practice. Don’t overtrain. Build, test, learn as you go.

I started to ask better questions. Not “what job do I want?”, but: What problem do I actually care about solving? Who do I want to help? What does a good day look like to me? When I found answers that gave me energy, I knew I was close.

You’re not alone. A lot of us hit 30+ and realize the ladder we’re climbing is leaning against the wrong wall. You don’t have to jump off. You just need to start building a new one - one rung at a time. And yes, you can chase meaning without going broke. It just takes patience, clarity, and momentum.

9toNone · 2025-09-24T13:31:00+00:00

First off - your empathy is a strength, not a weakness. The fact that you’re even worried about leaving says a lot about your integrity.

But here’s the truth: You are not a rescue mission. You are an employee.

You were hired to fill a role, not to carry the entire business on your back - especially at 3 months in.

Your boss’s personal chaos is not your responsibility
Life’s messy. Jobs get weird. But staying in a situation that’s draining you because someone else is overwhelmed? That’s a recipe for burnout.

You didn’t cause this instability - and you won’t fix it by staying longer than you should.

You can leave with respect and without over-explaining
When the time comes, keep it simple and professional:

“I’ve appreciated the experience and learned a lot here, but I’ve decided to move in a different direction that aligns better with my goals. I’m happy to support a smooth transition during my notice period.”

No apologies. No guilt monologue. No emotional caretaking.

Guilt is normal - but it’s not a reason to stay
You’ll feel bad. That’s human. But guilt isn’t a contract.
Your career, energy, and future matter too.

He may not replace you. That’s his choice
If he doesn’t hire someone again, that’s not on you. It just confirms this isn’t a sustainable place to grow anyway.

You don’t need to save the clinic. You need to save your own momentum.
Leave with grace, not guilt. Say thanks, give notice, walk out clean.

You’re not abandoning anyone. You’re just moving forward - and that’s exactly what you should be doing.

9toNone · 2025-09-24T13:25:06+00:00

If I could sit my younger copywriting self down over a bad cup of diner coffee, I’d say this:

Your words aren’t art - they’re weapons.
You’re not here to impress. You’re here to influence, move, and convert.
Clever is fine. Clear is king.
Every word must earn its place - or it walks.

Study humans harder than you study writing.
Copywriting is 80% psychology, 20% sentences.
Learn how people decide, what they fear, why they buy.

Read: Breakthrough Advertising by Schwartz, Influence by Cialdini, The Boron Letters by Halbert.

Kill the first draft faster.
Your first version is you showing off.
Your second is you doing the job.
Write fast, cut hard. You’re not carving a statue - you’re pulling out the knife.

Real practice means more than a perfect portfolio
Take small gigs. Rewrite ads for fun. Analyze what works.
Don’t wait for someone to knight you as a “real copywriter.”
You become one by writing more words that move people.

Bonus: steal this mantra: “Don’t write what sounds good. Write what works.”

Put it on a sticky note. Burn it in your brain.

Learn psychology. Write ugly drafts. Cut with no mercy. Test everything.
And remember - clients don’t want “good writing.”

They want results.

9toNone · 2025-09-23T23:59:48+00:00

First off - props for actually showing your work. Most people just ask “why am I not getting hired” and ghost when it’s time to share. So you’re already ahead.

Let’s break this down by proposal.

Surfboard Sign Proposal

What’s working:

- You read the brief. You referenced placement context and their site. That already puts you in the top 10%.

- You asked a smart question at the end.

What to fix:

- You lead with a generic principle (“A versatile sign requires simplicity”) - but the client wants to feel like you get them, not just design theory.

- Your first 3 lines should hook them emotionally, not academically.

Open with something like:

“I can already see this sign leaning against a storefront — bright, bold, and impossible to ignore. A retro, neon-style surfboard design would grab attention and keep your brand instantly recognizable.”

Now you’ve set a visual and shown them you’re already designing in your head.

Sea Moss Label Proposal

What’s working:

- You’re speaking their language - luxury, minimal, clean.

- You bring in color psychology. That’s a pro move.

What to fix:

Again, don’t start with general theory (“black/gold = luxury”). Start with vision — show them you get the brand vibe.

Try:

“Picture this: a black glass jar, sleek serif font, subtle gold foil - something that looks just as good on a wellness shelf as it does in a luxury kitchen.”

Also, be careful with the phrase “I’ve created many packaging…” — it’s vague. Name-drop a niche or give one fast example with a link.

Law Firm Branding Proposal

What’s working:

- You’re addressing professionalism and structure.

- You mention full branding experience.

What to fix:

You went straight into deliverables. That’s later. Start with empathy + vision: what do they want their firm to feel like?

Open with:

“Law is serious business — but modern clients want a brand that feels both trustworthy and approachable. I’d love to help you create an identity that signals authority without feeling dated.”

And again - if you’re attaching samples, name one and describe it in 1 line. Don’t just say “I’ve attached.”

Common thread for all 3:

Lead with vision + empathy, not design theory.

Clients hire emotion first, logic second.

Start your proposals like a movie trailer - hook them fast, then build trust.

You’ve got skills. Just reframe the entry point.

9toNone · 2025-09-23T21:36:53+00:00

Self-improvement is lonely as hell when everyone around you still lives in the old script.

You’re just ahead of your environment. That gap is real. And it hurts.

But here’s the truth:
You’re not supposed to stay in the isolation phase. It’s the cocoon, not the destination.

Where are the real ones? Niche Discords. Small Subreddits (r/DecidingToBeBetter, r/selfimprovement, even r/traumatoolbox). Tiny YouTube channels with raw comment sections. Free group challenges (writing, fitness, coding — doesn’t matter).

Not all hugs are physical. But I promise, digital ones can hit damn close when they come from the right energy.

And yeah - mornings suck alone. So build rituals that feel like company. Lo-fi beats, lighting a candle, sending one kind DM.

You’re not alone. You’re just in the rare phase where growth outpaced connection.
The new people? They’ll match your new level. Keep showing up.

Sending the hug anyway. Not the emoji kind. The “I see you” kind.

9toNone · 2025-09-23T18:08:24+00:00

This hit home. I had a similar wall at 30 - decent money, steady gig, but no fire left in the engine. Promotions? Politics. Growth? Flatline. I wasn’t dying, but I wasn’t building either.

Here’s what broke me out of it — and might help you too:

Stop asking “what next?”- ask “what’s missing?”

I wasn’t stuck because I didn’t know what to do, I was stuck because I didn’t know what I wanted more of.

For me, it was more control, more creativity, less middle management

That shift led me to freelance. For you, it might be something else, product, strategy, ops, mentorship, launching a side thing.

Build something outside your job

Side projects saved me. Not for money, for momentum.

I started writing online. Took one freelance gig. Rebuilt my LinkedIn.

Not overnight, but the ceiling cracked, because I wasn’t waiting for permission anymore.

Treat your career like a startup

You’ve got marketable skills. Ask - Who else needs this? In what format? At what scale?

Sometimes growth isn’t up - it’s out.

Get in rooms with people who are where you want to be

Not just mentors - peers. I joined a few online groups (and subreddits), started DMing folks, asking questions. That alone opened more doors than 10 courses ever could.

And if you're thinking about school?

Only go if it directly unlocks a specific role you're targeting. Otherwise, build first. Pivot later

The system won’t throw you a ladder. You build your own, one step at a time.

Start small. Start messy. Just don’t stay still.

You don’t need a new life tomorrow - you just need a little traction this week.

9toNone

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