The loneliest part of building a business nobody talks about

I used to think something was wrong with me.

I'd be in a conversation with another coach—someone I respect, someone doing good work—and they'd ask me a question about their business. I'd give them advice. They'd ask another question—more advice. The whole conversation would be me helping them solve their problems.

And I'd walk away thinking:"Why don't I have anyone I can talk to like this?"

The other day, I was having a conversation with a friend who owns two businesses, is a father of three, and he said something that hit me in the chest:

"I do feel like I'm kind of in my own lane. I'm solving problems that a lot of my peers haven't encountered yet. And yeah, there's definitely a sense of loneliness in that."

I've been coaching for 18 years. I've built a $750k business. I mentor coaches who are scaling from $5k/month to $50k/month.

And most days? I'm figuring this shit out completely alone.

The Problem With Outgrowing Your Peer Group

Here's what nobody tells you about getting better at what you do:you outgrow your peer group.

When I started out, I had people I could turn to. Other coaches a few years ahead. Mentors who'd been in the game longer. We'd trade ideas, compare notes, troubleshoot together.

But the longer I've been in this, the fewer people there are solving the same problems I'm solving.

I'm not trying to get my first 10 clients. I'm trying to systematize a $750k business while training 16 times a week and maintaining a marriage. I'm trying to mentor coaches at scale without burning out. I'm trying to serve people at the highest level while also having a fucking life.

When I look around for people solving those exact problems? The room gets really quiet.

The Trap of Comparing Yourself to the Wrong People

When you can't find peers dealing with your exact situation, you do one of two things:

Option 1: You compare yourself to people playing a completely different game.

I see coaches making $5M a year and think, "Should I be doing that?" But when I look at their lives, I don't want what they have. They're on planes every week. They have 30 employees. They're managing complexity, I have zero interest in managing.

Option 2: You try to find mentors who've already solved your problems.

But if someone's 10 steps ahead of you, their advice might not even apply to where you are now. They've forgotten what it's like to be at your stage. They're giving you solutions for problems you don't have yet.

You end up stuck in this weird middle ground—too advanced for most of your peers, but not advanced enough to relate to the people you're trying to learn from.

And that shit is isolating as fuck.

Staying in Your Lane Is Your Biggest Advantage

But here's what I've realized:staying in your own lane is actually your biggest advantage.

My friend said something that stuck with me:

"How many discoveries have you had on your own through trial and error that have led to phenomenal opportunities for growth that you wouldn't have had if you just tried to mimic someone else's process?"

He's right.

Every major breakthrough I've had came from figuring it out myself. Not from copying someone else's model. Not from following a blueprint. From staying in my lane, running my own experiments, and learning what actually works for me.

When I was at Queens working 100 hours a week, nobody told me to leave. I had to figure out on my own that I was investing time into people who weren't giving back to me.

When I started MAP and CCU, nobody handed me a roadmap. I had to systematize 18 years of lessons and package them in a way that actually got results.

All of that happened because I stayed in my own fucking lane.

If I'd spent that time trying to find the perfect mentor or copying someone else's business model, I wouldn't be where I am today.

What to Do When You're Solving Problems Alone

1. Find people solving DIFFERENT problems at the SAME level.

This is why the mastermind group I'm in has been valuable. We're all at different stages, running different businesses. But we're all dealing with the same level of complexity.

2. Document what you're learning.

If you're solving problems nobody else has solved, document the process. When you write it down, you clarify your thinking. You see patterns you wouldn't have seen otherwise.

This is why I vlog, do podcasts, and write newsletters. I'm not just teaching—I'm processing.

3. Get comfortable with the discomfort.

The loneliness of staying in your own lane is the price you pay for building something uniquely yours. You can't have the comfort of following someone else's blueprint AND the freedom of building something that fits your life.

You have to choose.

The Thing Nobody Tells You

The higher you go, the fewer people there are who understand what you're dealing with.

That's not a bug. That's a feature.

If you're surrounded by people who completely understand your problems, you're probably not pushing hard enough. You're probably playing it too safe.

Loneliness is a signal that you're doing something different. That you're solving problems most people aren't willing to solve. That you're building something most people aren't willing to build.

Nothing's wrong with you.

You're just in your own lane. And that's exactly where you're supposed to be.

And if you're dealing with this right now—if you're solving problems your peers haven't encountered yet and it feels fucking lonely—send me an email [email protected] and let me know. I read every response. And I guarantee you're not as alone as you think you are.

Let's raise the bar together.

Keep Raising the Bar,

Paul Oneid MS, MS, CSCS