Two and a half years ago, I quit my full-time job as a software engineer at Amazon. Since then, I've been recovering from burnout and attempting to start a business teaching Git to people on the internet.

If I could sum up this past year, it would be the seemingly endless exercise in convincing myself that everything I've worked on this past year wasn't a complete waste of time, and that my life choices weren't a huge mistake. I gather this feeling is fairly standard among self-employed folks, but it's still one of my biggest daily struggles.

Still, by many measures, my one-year-old business is doing well. To date, I've helped over 400 customers, many of them students, and received encouraging messages about what I've created:

From a financial standpoint, a (very small) profit this year was a pleasant surprise after accounting for business expenses.

The problem is, I've been conditioned my entire life to believe that if I'm not making enough money, or holding a prestigious job title, my efforts are meaningless. In this context, leaving Amazon was a hard decision. I had a great salary and was managing multiple software teams—money check; prestige check.

After stepping away from corporate life with no desire to return, part of me clung to the hope that pursuing my own path would quickly lead to material success. After all, succeeding by all the same metrics I'd been conditioned to strive for would mean I wouldn't have to face the harder task of unraveling why that conditioning lead me to the worst burnout and depression I'd ever experienced.

Do you see the irony here?

Forging my own career path without the safety net of a consistent paycheck—or the societal validation that comes with following the "normal" route—has been much harder than I anticipated.

I expected some of these challenges, but didn't fully anticipate where I find myself now, at the start of 2025. My business is neither as successful as I'd hoped, nor anywhere close to failure. Some days I have the necessary motivation to continue building towards my vision, while other days feel hopeless, and struggle to get out of bed. The path forward feels indecipherable, yet going back seems equally unfathomable. So, I float in this strange purgatory.

Looking back on 2024, I can truly say I've learned a lot—and importantly, this learning came from taking a risk and trying something new. I have no regrets about that. For 2025, my goal is to stabilize both my mental health and my career. This likely involves combining self-employment with a more stable, predictable form of work. But I'm still figuring out how to make self-employment sustainable longer term.

If any of this resonates with you, maybe we could connect.

Sustainable Entrepreneurship

In pursuit of a lifestyle that balances self-employment and mental health, in 2024 I've found some resources that resonated with me:

• ​The Minimalist Entrepreneur by Sahil Lavingia

• ​The Life Profits Podcast by Geoff Roberts

Both present the idea that building a business can be thoughtful exercise in lifestyle design, rather than subscribing to the Silicon Valley startup mentality of a 100-hour workweek grind at all costs. I find it reassuring to hear from others that also want something different out of entrepreneurship. It reminds me that I'm not alone in valuing a more balanced, intentional approach to business.

I hope Geoff doesn't mind me borrowing his quote, I think it sums up my thoughts on this pretty well:

We live in a world that celebrates entrepreneurs on one dimension—their financial success. But shouldn't the objective of entrepreneurship be to enrich our lives?

2024 by the Numbers

Since launching LearnGit.io publicly in January 2024, a lot has changed. I redesigned the landing page five times, adjusted the price twice, and introduced a free trial—only to remove it a few months later. Each of these iterations could probably merit a deeper explanation, so if that’s something you’d like to know more about, let me know.

On a larger scale, I’m proud to have completed all 42 video lessons, implemented progress tracking, and semi-automated both student and purchasing power discounts. Below is a graph showing monthly signups throughout 2024. Discounted subscriptions accounted for 61% of all signups, and I consider this a positive outcome: students and individuals in countries with lower purchasing power now have better access to LearnGit’s materials.

One of my key goals for 2025 is to bring LearnGit to more universities and schools. If you have any connections in this regard, I’d love to hear from you. There were also a ton of smaller features shipped in 2024, and most are tracked here.

I’ve always appreciated when other small business owners share actual data, so here’s a breakdown of LearnGit's 2024 revenue and expenses.

The largest expense by far was renting a studio space. It took nearly a full year to create LearnGit’s video lesson library, and while it would’ve been great to keep the space, it wasn’t financially sustainable. In November, I decided to end the lease, which is why expenses dropped significantly in December.

Outside of Career

Aside from career, I found hobbies and community particularly fulfilling in 2024. I continued to regularly play ultimate frisbee and Spikeball, and even learned to DJ for the first time.