Once upon a time, there was a place on the internet where I could still grab a few views and reads without stressing about where all my readers had gone.
Back then, publishing something online felt simple. You wrote. You hit publish. Someone, somewhere, actually read it.
I started writing online very late in 2023. I still remember the first few pennies that came in. Literal pennies. The kind that make you laugh and screenshot your dashboard like it’s proof that magic exists.
It felt like a dream.
Fast forward to now, and sometimes it feels like that dream is on life support.
But here’s the good news…
I’m still here.
Everything happened so fast that, in hindsight, it feels like I built everything in just a few months. But the truth is, it took two solid years of writing. Two years of showing up when nobody cared. Two years of publishing even when the silence was loud.
The first year was pure joy.
Not because the money was great — it wasn’t.
But because I was learning. Struggling. Finding my voice.
I published once a day, even on days when writing felt painful. Some articles were clumsy. Some were forgettable. A few were surprisingly good. I didn’t overthink it. I just wrote.
Back then, writing felt like exploration.
Now?
Now I can write multiple articles a day if I want to.
At the height of 2024 and into early 2025, I was writing three articles a day alongside my 9–5 job. Some days, I pushed it to five.
Five articles.
Five hundred to one thousand words each.
To this day, I don’t fully know where all those words came from. I just know I sat there — tired, wired, half-asleep — typing whatever my mind could put together.
Some days I was a writing motivator.
Other days I was basically a platform news reporter.
Some days I was venting. Some days I was teaching. Some days I was just trying to survive.
But it worked.
Slowly, the numbers climbed.
A few dollars turned into tens.
Tens turned into hundreds.
And then, one random month, I crossed $1,000.
From writing.
On the internet.
Alongside my day job.
I remember staring at the screen longer than I should have. Not because the money would change my life — but because it changed how I saw myself.
“I can do this,” I thought.
“This isn’t luck anymore.”
That feeling is dangerous… in a good way.
And then came the algorithm.
You never see it coming. You just feel it.
Views drop. Reads slow down. Articles that once performed well suddenly go nowhere. You refresh your stats like it’s a heartbeat monitor.
Flatline.
At first, you blame yourself.
Maybe my writing got worse.
Maybe I’m repeating myself.
Maybe people are bored.
But deep down, you know something else shifted.
The rules changed.
Things have been slowing down lately. Not just the money — the momentum. The excitement. That feeling of “I can’t wait to publish this.”
Now, I have to be more intentional. I need to pick up new writing tasks. New formats. New reasons to write.
And honestly? That’s not a bad thing.
After all this practice, there’s nothing better than using writing as a means of expression, not just income. Writing about how I write. Writing about the thoughts that show up at 11 PM after a long workday. Writing about building something fragile and watching it wobble.
Because that’s the part nobody warns you about.
Side hustles don’t fail loudly.
They fade.
And the algorithm doesn’t hate you — it just doesn’t care.
But here’s what two years of daily writing taught me:
- Skills don’t disappear when views do
- Discipline doesn’t vanish when income slows
- And stories are still worth telling, even when fewer people listen
I didn’t lose my ability to write.
I didn’t lose my work ethic.
I just lost a distribution advantage.
And that can be rebuilt.
So no, this isn’t the end of my writing journey.
It’s a reset.
A reminder that I didn’t start writing for the algorithm. I started because I had something to say — and typing it out felt like relief.
If you’re building something online right now and feel “crushed”…
You’re not broken.
Your effort wasn’t wasted.
You’re just early — again.
And honestly?
I’ve survived that phase before.
I can do it again.
Thanks For Reading!
Best Wishes.
