Why I Wouldn’t Go Back to Selling on Amazon

If you told 2015-me that I’d one day write a post called “Why I wouldn’t go back to selling on Amazon,” I would’ve laughed. Back then, Amazon felt like the escape hatch. The clean answer. The thing that would finally let me breathe again.

But life… life has this sneaky way of handing you what you asked for—just not in the way you imagined.

I was running operations for a fast-growing fitness franchise, bouncing between California and Canada like a human suitcase. On the outside, it looked like momentum: promotions, progress, “he’s doing great.” On the inside? I was slowly disappearing.

• I was tired in a way coffee couldn’t fix.

• Disconnected from my wife.

• Watching my health slide while telling myself it was “just a season.”

It wasn’t a season. It was a lifestyle.

So I quit. I moved back to Canada. I sold my California home. And for a moment, I just sat in the quiet, trying to figure out what comes after walking away from something you thought you were supposed to want.

That’s when I found Amazon.

And like most people who discover Amazon in a desperate moment, I didn’t approach it like a craft. I approached it like a lifeline. I watched the videos. Bought the dream. Told myself:

“If I can just figure this out, I can get my life back.”

Lesson 1: Amazon is a tool, not a lifeline

I joined a coaching program called PLM. And let me say this plainly: I lost around $30,000 to a program that got shut down.

• No refund.

• No accountability.

• No “we’ll make it right.” Just silence.

Thirty thousand dollars is not “oops money.” It’s not “lesson money.” It’s the kind of money that changes the way you sleep, the kind that makes you stare at your bank account like it’s a crime scene.

And in that moment, I felt that mix of embarrassment and rage. Not just because I lost money, but because I had finally bet on myself—and my bet got hijacked.

“Do I quit now… or do I become the person who figures it out anyway?”

For a while, I didn’t feel like the second guy. I was struggling mentally, financially, emotionally. Every mistake cost real money: Amazon fees, ad spend, inventory, shipping. One “small” oversight could hit you with a four-figure punch to the face.

So I went back to Canada—not as a triumphant return, but as a reset. A humbling one.

Lesson 2: Start from zero… the right way

The reset forced me to stop chasing the fantasy version of Amazon and start learning the real one:

• Negotiate with suppliers: Awkward messages, mistakes, trial and error. It’s part of learning.

• Winning products don’t win if the math is wrong: A great idea is useless if the numbers don’t add up.

• Ads can’t fix a bad offer: PPC can amplify results, but it won’t save a broken system.

• Launches are systems, not moments: Success is built on repeatable processes, not hype.

I started with wholesale to build a bankroll. Not glamorous. Not the shiny YouTube story. But it was real—it taught me how Amazon behaves when you’re not pretending to be a brand owner with someone else’s money.

Then I moved into private label. But differently—more patience, better math, realistic expectations, and respect for the fact that Amazon doesn’t reward hope, it rewards execution.

Around that time, life got serious in the best way: my wife gave birth to our miracle son. Something inside me clicked.

• I didn’t want to be the dad who provides but misses everything.

• I didn’t want to chase money and lose time.

• I didn’t want to build another job that just happened to be online.

That’s when I knew: if I’m going to do this, it has to buy back my life—not consume it.

Lesson 3: The right kind of help matters

Eventually, people started asking me for help. Not because I was loud, but because I was consistent. After being burned by hype, you develop a radar. You can smell when someone is selling a dream instead of teaching a skill.

That’s where Seller Tactics was born—not as a brand, not as a mastermind, not as an ego project.

• It started as a response to a problem I couldn’t ignore: good people entering Amazon with hope in their hands, only to get wrecked by missing systems, bad advice, and surface-level coaching.

• We put truth on the table: product selection, sourcing, listings, and PPC that actually work.

Here’s the kicker: most people don’t need more information.

They need someone to build the thing with them—or for them—so it’s done right the first time.

And that’s how Seller Tactics became Kingmakers.

“Seller is what you do. Kingmaker is what you become when you stop chasing transactions and start building an asset.”

Kingmakers DFY exists because I’ve lived both sides:

• The hype, the heartbreak, the scams.

• The side where systems work, numbers work, product fits, brand grows, and family time isn’t sacrificed.

Key Takeaways

• Amazon is a tool, not a lifeline. Don’t bet your life on a dream—it’s about building skill and systems.

• Start small, start smart. Wholesale first, private label later, with solid numbers.

• Launches are systems, not moments. Focus on repeatable processes, not hype.

• Execution beats hope every time. Perfect your operations before scaling.

• Help is priceless. Real guidance > surface-level information.

• Life comes first. Build a brand that gives you freedom, not just revenue.

So no—I wouldn’t go back to “selling on Amazon.”

I’d go back to building a brand on Amazon.

Because one is a hustle that can eat your life.

The other? It’s the reason I got mine back.

If you’ve been burned, I get it. If you’re skeptical, you should be. And if you’re in the messy middle—working hard and still unsure—I’ve been there too.

And if you want to talk about what’s actually holding you back, I’m here in the comments.