I sold one of my niche sites yesterday for a very small sum. Very small. $US297 less a $US25 listing fee and $29.70 commission to Flippa.
It was one of those three-month long spur of the moment decisions.
Earlier this year I wrestled with going all in or giving up on my suite of sites. I wondered, should I invest more time into marketing my sites, optimising posts, creating new content and outsourcing tasks so I could get more done? Meh. I decided to chuck it in.
And then I didn’t. I decided to go all in. I thought I would always regret stopping before I reached my version of success, which is a modest income level. My sites make about a sixth of that figure during a good month.
And now, decisively indecisive critter that I am, I have not only backflipped but started a process that will not allow me to backflip again. I am selling my suite of sites.
Like a gambler quitting, I have thought a lot about what I have put into my sites – time and money – for so little financial return. 100s of hours of time. 100s of hours that I could have spent working on my novel or generating income via my freelance business.
As I work my way through these thoughts and the heaviness of regret they carry, I’m feeling more comfortable facing what I’ve lost and about letting go.
But I also recognise that it has not been a waste of time. It’s been a hobby that I’ve loved. It’s taught me so much about setting up, running and maintaining a website, SEO tactics and keyword research, WordPress and tech backend thingos. I’ve met and made brilliant friends and connected with very clever people. All of which I will bring into my next digital adventures.
Maybe I’m scrambling for the positives here. It’s my optimistic nature.
I started my niche sites to bring in passive income so that I wouldn’t have to do as much freelance work and would have more time to write. I got so lost slurping great gulps of the passive income Koolaid that I lost my original vision and invested too much time in niche land.
There’s a great paragraph in Steven Pressfield’s book, The War of Art, that haunts me.
Resistance will tell you anything to keep you from doing your work. It will perjure, fabricate, falsify; seduce, bully, cajole. Resistance is protean. It will assume any form, if that’s what it takes to deceive you. It will reason with you like a lawyer or jam a nine millimeter in your face like a stickup man. Resistance has no conscience. It will pledge anything to get a deal, then double-cross you as soon as your back is turned. If you take Resistance at its word, you deserve everything you get. Resistance is always lying and always full of shit.Steven Pressfield, The War of Art
My niche sites = resistance.
Resistance cajoled and wooed me. It distracted me. It lied to me. It promised me time invested now meant time for creative writing later.
To chase and nurture my creative writing goals, I have to let resistance go. I think that’s the path I’ve been on all year – building up the courage to let the sites go and accept that I will never financially recoup what I’ve invested into these Tools of Resistance. On the flip side, I’m excited to have headspace and time for my creative writing project. After freelance hours, of course.
The price of giving up isn’t so bad after all.
I don’t regret selling my site yesterday but I reckon I might regret not selling it, tomorrow.
How has resistance shown up for you?