So, you’ve finally said it. On my own here we go. It’s that terrifying, exhilarating moment when the corporate safety net vanishes and it’s just you, a laptop, and a terrifyingly blank Google Calendar. Most people talk about "quitting the 9-to-5" like it’s a slow-motion montage of drinking coffee on a balcony, but the reality is usually more about troubleshooting a printer at 2:00 AM while questioning every life choice you’ve ever made.
There is a specific kind of grit required when you transition from being a cog in a machine to being the entire machine itself. You are the CEO, sure, but you’re also the janitor, the IT guy, and the person who has to chase down late invoices from clients who suddenly forgot how to use their banking apps.
Why the Transition is Harder Than the LinkedIn Gurus Say
Most business advice is written for people who already have venture capital or a team of ten. When you’re starting on my own here we go style, those rules don't apply. You don't have a "brand identity" yet; you have a reputation and a phone number. Honestly, the biggest hurdle isn't even the business plan. It's the psychological shift from receiving a paycheck to hunting for one.
In a traditional job, you’re paid for your time. In a solo venture, you’re paid for results. If you spend eight hours designing a logo but nobody buys your service, you didn’t work an eight-hour day—you had an expensive hobby for an afternoon. That's a harsh truth. It’s also why so many solo founders burn out within the first six months. They mistake "being busy" for "being productive."
The Myth of Perfect Timing
Wait for the perfect moment and you'll be waiting in a cubicle until you're sixty-five. There is no green light from the universe. Most successful solo operators I know—people like Paul Jarvis, who wrote Company of One, or Justin Welsh—didn't wait for a sign. They just started. They built "side hustles" until the side hustle was screaming for more time than the day job allowed.
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The First 90 Days of On My Own Here We Go
The first three months are basically a survival game. You need to find a rhythm before the isolation starts messing with your head. It’s quiet. Way too quiet. Without the hum of an office, your own thoughts get loud, and usually, those thoughts are telling you that you’re a fraud.
- Establish a "Minimum Viable Routine." Don't try to be a 4:00 AM monk. Just get dressed. Sit at a desk.
- Prioritize Cash Flow Over Aesthetics. Do not spend $2,000 on a website. Spend $0 on a LinkedIn profile that clearly states what problem you solve.
- Set "Deep Work" Blocks. Without a boss, your day will dissolve into checking emails and Slack. Use tools like Freedom or simply put your phone in another room for two hours a day.
Research from the Small Business Administration (SBA) suggests that roughly 20% of new businesses fail during the first two years. But if you look closer at the data, a huge chunk of those failures stem from "market misread"—basically, building something nobody wanted to pay for. When you’re going on my own here we go, your first job isn't "marketing." It's listening.
Dealing with the "Solo" in Solopreneur
The loneliness is real. You miss the watercooler talk you used to complain about. To survive this, you have to build a "virtual boardroom." This isn't a formal thing. It’s just three or four other people who are also in the weeds. A Slack group, a Discord, or a weekly coffee meet-up. You need people who won't just say "that's nice" when you explain a pivot, but who will actually tell you your pricing is too low.
Managing Your Own Psychology
Your brain is going to try to kill your business. It’s called the "Valley of Despair." After the initial excitement of on my own here we go wears off, you hit a plateau. The initial clients have been served, the pipeline looks dry, and you start looking at job boards "just in case."
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This is where the winners separate themselves.
The trick is to decouple your self-worth from your daily output. Some days are just going to suck. You’ll lose a pitch. A software update will break your site. If you treat every setback like a personal failure, you won’t last a year. You have to be a bit robotic about it. Process the data, fix the bug, move to the next task.
The Financial Safety Net
Let's talk about the "Runway." If you don't have at least six months of living expenses saved, you aren't starting a business; you're starting a panic attack. Financial stress kills creativity. It makes you take on "nightmare clients" because you’re desperate for the deposit. These clients will drain your soul and prevent you from finding the good ones.
If you’re currently in the "on my own here we go" mindset but haven't quit yet—save more than you think you need. Then save 20% more for the taxes you’re definitely going to underestimate.
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Marketing Without a Budget
You don't need Facebook ads. You need to be helpful in public.
Basically, find where your target audience hangs out—whether it's Reddit, niche forums, or LinkedIn—and answer their questions. Don't pitch. Just solve problems. If you solve enough problems for free, people will eventually ask to pay you to solve their specific, complex problems.
That’s how you build a brand when you’re starting from scratch. It’s slow. It’s tedious. It’s also the only way to build a foundation that won't crumble the moment a Google algorithm changes.
Moving Past the "Here We Go" Phase
Eventually, the "newness" fades. You stop saying on my own here we go and start saying "I run a business." This shift is subtle but massive. It means you’ve moved from a reactive state to a proactive one. You aren't just taking whatever work comes your way; you're choosing the work that fits your long-term goals.
Refined Action Steps for the Solo Founder
- Audit your time weekly. Look at your calendar. How much of it was spent on "Revenue Generating Activities" vs. "Administrative Busywork"? If the ratio is less than 3:1, you’re in trouble.
- Raise your rates annually. You are getting faster and better at what you do. If you charge the same today as you did a year ago, you’re actually taking a pay cut due to inflation and increased expertise.
- Automate the boring stuff. Use Zapier or Make to connect your forms to your CRM. Use an automated scheduler like Calendly. Every minute you spend manually booking a meeting is a minute you aren't making money.
- Document your processes. Even if you never plan to hire anyone, write down how you do things. It creates a "playbook" that reduces the mental load of starting every task from zero.
- Schedule "CEO Time." Once a month, step away from the tools. Go to a library or a park. Look at your business from 30,000 feet. Are you actually happy? Is this the business you wanted to build, or did you just create a high-stress job for yourself where the boss is a jerk?
Success in the on my own here we go journey isn't about hitting a million dollars in your first year. It’s about building a sustainable, repeatable system that provides you with the freedom you left your job for in the first place. It takes time. It takes a thick skin. But honestly, there is nothing quite like the feeling of that first "big" check hitting your bank account and knowing you earned every single cent of it yourself.