When Free Stops Being Sustainable

For the last seven years, I’ve shown up online and given everything away for free.

No courses. No paywalls. No “premium community.” No hidden upsell waiting at the end of a funnel. Just videos, explanations, breakdowns (thousands of them) meant to help people feel a little more confident about investing.

At the time, that felt like the right way to do it. And honestly, I still believe in that version of me.

Before all of this, I spent 13 years as a self taught stock trader. It was never glamorous, and it definitely wasn’t easy. But it worked. Trading was my income. It was how I supported myself. My goal wasn’t a Lambo or a private jet. My goal was to simply avoid a 9-5 office job.

And about two years ago, I made a decision: I stepped away from trading full-time to focus on content creation.

I thought it would make sense.

I thought if I built something valuable enough, the monetization would follow: brand deals, platform payouts like TikTok’s Creator Fund. Something.

Except that didn’t really happen. I had a few brand deals. I usually made just enough to cover one months’ expenses. And the Creator Fund? The payout is around a few hundred per month. Great. But not enough to live off of.

Despite building an audience that’s now around 700,000 people, the income side never materialized in the way I expected. Not enough brand deals. Not enough consistency. Not enough to treat this like a real, sustainable career.

“Don’t you have a lot of money from your investments?”

Yes, I do. But that’s not the point.

That money is for my future. It’s the result of years of discipline and long-term thinking. It’s not there to be slowly drained so I can continue churning out free content today. That would completely defeat the purpose of building that portfolio in the first place.

So a few months ago, I made another decision.

I started selling toolkits: guides, calculators, resources. Things that take time to build, but that can actually support the work I’m doing.

And the reaction has been… mixed.

Some people have been supportive. But others have pushed back. Hard.

I’ve been told I “sold out.” I’ve been asked if I secretly went broke. Some people have even questioned whether I’m actually a bad investor, as if the only reason I’d ever sell something is because I failed at what I’ve been teaching.

And I understand where some of that comes from.

The relationship between a content creator and an audience is a strange one. It feels casual, almost like a conversation between friends. You see me on your phone, talking directly to you, explaining things in a simple way. It doesn’t feel like a business … it feels like a Facetime call with your friend.

But the reality is, it is work.

If you went to a dentist and they told you the cost to fix your tooth, you wouldn’t accuse them of selling out. If a personal trainer charged you for a program, you wouldn’t question their integrity. You’d understand that you’re paying for their time, their expertise, and the value they provide.

For some reason, that same logic doesn’t always apply here.

There’s this expectation that content—especially educational content—should exist as a kind of ongoing favor. That it should be free, indefinitely, because it feels accessible and friendly. And the moment it isn’t, something must be wrong.

But that expectation doesn’t really exist anywhere else.

We don’t question it when athletes sign endorsement deals. We don’t ask actors why they’re promoting products when they’re already wealthy. No one looks at a successful person and says, “You’ve made enough! Everything you do from here on out should be free.”

That standard seems to apply uniquely to content creators who started by giving.

And I think that’s the disconnect.

I’m still giving. In fact, I still have a full investing course available for free. That hasn’t changed. The goal has never been to take something away—it’s been to make this sustainable so I can continue showing up at all.

Because the alternative isn’t “everything stays free forever.”

The alternative is that I stop.

This isn’t about greed. It’s not about abandoning what I’ve built. It’s about finding a way to support it without undermining my own future in the process.

I don’t expect everyone to agree with that. But I do hope it makes a little more sense.