I grew up in a pretty traditional home, raised on the classic formula: work hard, follow the rules, get the degree, keep the job, retire at 65. It made sense. It was stable. And for most of my life, I didn’t question it.

So I did what I thought I was supposed to do. I got a business degree, landed a job at a big agency, worked with clients like Toyota and Home Depot, and hit six figures before I turned 25. By most standards, I was doing fine. But internally? I was dragging.

There’s this moment I still remember—sitting in LA traffic, in a car with no A/C, inching forward for over an hour. And I remember thinking: This can’t be it. I wasn’t failing, technically. But I was spending the best hours of my day helping build someone else’s thing. Missing dinners. Missing rest. Missing a sense of ownership. But I kept at it. Because that’s what men do, right?

About

I Thought I Was Doing Everything Right

Around that same time, Hayley—who wasn’t even my wife yet—got pregnant. She started posting videos on YouTube. No real plan, no monetization strategy, just documenting life and learning as she went. I didn’t think much of it at first.

But while I was stuck in agency deadlines and commutes, she was slowly building something. A real audience. Real trust. And eventually… real income. She didn’t need permission. She wasn’t asking for PTO. And she definitely wasn’t sitting in traffic.

I watched her film videos in the kitchen and somehow out-earn me in the process. That hit me. Not because I didn’t want her to win—I absolutely did. It just made me realize I had no idea what I was chasing anymore. I had done all the “right” things. But I was tired, burned out, and quietly wondering if I had spent years climbing the wrong ladder.

Then Everything Shifted

I didn’t want to become a YouTuber or start vlogging my life. That wasn’t me. So I tried what everyone online was talking about at the time: Amazon FBA. We dropped $15,000 on inventory, learned the model, followed the steps. And it worked—for a minute. Until our own supplier undercut us and everything dried up.

Even though that business didn’t last, it opened our eyes to something bigger. People were making real income teaching what they knew—not by chasing trends or selling physical stuff, but by creating digital products that solved problems.

And it hit us: we could do that. Hayley already had the audience. I already had the marketing chops. And I was already helping behind the scenes with strategy, titles, funnels, and analytics. I wasn’t just “supporting her.” I was helping build it.

So we decided to package up what we knew and launch a course—YouTubepreneur. No hype. No ads. No affiliates. Just a simple offer based on what had actually worked for us. And in the first week, we made $40,000.

The First Attempt at Freedom

It wasn’t about the money. It was what the money meant.

We didn’t need permission anymore. We didn’t have to sell our time or wait for someone else’s green light. We had a product, a system, and full control.

So we shut down everything else. No more brand deals. No more scattered side hustles. Just one offer, one mission, and a business we could build together.

Why That Moment Mattered

When I first left my job, it was mostly about freedom. I didn’t want to burn out just to keep someone else’s business running. Then it became about helping Hayley. She had momentum, and I had the skills to support it. But over time, it became about something deeper.

It became about being present.

Not just being a provider—but actually being there. For the slow breakfasts. For the “dad, can I ask you something?” moments. For the kind of parenting you can’t schedule between meetings.

I didn’t want to miss the good stuff just to chase a paycheck. I wanted to design a business that supported our life—not consumed it.

So that’s what we’ve done. We built a system-based business that runs without us constantly performing. We sell one product that actually solves problems. We earn full-time income on part-time hours. And we get to raise our kids the way we want—present, grounded, and rooted in faith.

If that’s the kind of life you’re building too, then you’re in the right place.

What This Is Really About