There’s a doubt that’s been lurking in the back of my mind for the last 12 years.
A worry that’s been gnawing at me.
A concern that I’ve pushed to the deepest recesses of my mind in the hope that it wouldn’t prove to be true:
“Did I just get lucky with StoryLearning?”
Was it just lucky that I happened to start a blog from that dusty café in the Middle East?
Lucky that language learning happened to be a good niche?
Lucky that I rode the right wave at the right time?
Well… was it?
This thought resurfaced for me recently when a few entrepreneur friends confessed to me:
“I wonder if I just got lucky.”
It’s like there’s this secret society of successful business owners who are all convinced they’re frauds.
Convinced that if everything vanished tomorrow, they wouldn’t have a hope in hell of doing it again.
Finished.
Game over.
Destined to live out the rest of their days under a bridge.
But surely we can’t all just be a product of pure luck?
Surely we’re not all frauds?
.
.
.
I think that harbouring this doubt has been bad for me over the years.
I don’t think it was good for business either.
At times, fear infected my decisions:
- I hoarded cash
- I avoided bold moves
- I shied away from risk
For example….
For years, I wanted to build an app for StoryLearning.
Never did it.
Too scared of the technical side. What if I blew it all and proved I was just a lucky amateur?
Sure, there were sound reasons for not getting involved in tech. But it was also easier… safer.
Sometimes I thought about starting an entirely new business.
But then I’d think:
“If StoryLearning was all luck, then I’d better stick with it, because nothing else is going to work!”
.
.
.
A few years later, I started to get irritated with myself for this defensive thinking.
“Olly, you’re almost 10 years in now… how much more proof do you need?”
So I decided to make a list of everything I could do if my business disappeared tomorrow.
Entrepreneur friends I’d call. Services I could offer. Skills I could sell.
Anything and everything I could do to cobble together £10k/mth.
As the list grew, the penny dropped.
I could make £10-20k a month consulting without breaking a sweat. Not because I’m special. But because I’d spent 12 years becoming bloody good at all kinds of stuff.
And I gradually came round to the idea…
What if those 12 years weren’t luck at all?
What if they were just training?
All the stuff I’d learnt:
Email marketing, content creation, copywriting, product development, team building…
Heck… even if the business was luck, I’ve still acquired some serious skills.
What are the chances I couldn’t put those skills to use?
.
.
.
In 2022, I started working on OllyRichards.co (this business).
I was itching to put my skills to use in something new and fresh.
I worked at it part time.
Casual, like.
What happened?
I went from zero to seven figures in under two years.
How can this be explained?
Did lightning strike twice?
Or did I compress 12 years of expertise into a focused sprint?
.
.
.
Sure enough, I now look around and I see experienced entrepreneurs pulling off the same trick.
My friends at Authority Hackers, for example.
Been around for 10+ years, recently shut down their whole business and started something brand new with AI education.
Roaring success.
My friend Alex at Langua.
Started a tutoring company years ago, then started another one with his own tech, then pivoted to software.
Roaring success.
Pattern recognition, anyone?
In all of these examples, you see years of prior learning compressed into months when applied to a new venture.
Every “lucky” entrepreneur I know who’s built something new has done it faster, better, and with more confidence the second time around.
Because the first business wasn’t the main event.
It was the warm-up act.
All those years of “getting lucky”? They were actually years of becoming dangerous. Years of developing instincts. Years of learning which risks are worth taking.
So here’s my challenge:
Stop telling yourself you got lucky.
Make a list of every skill you’ve developed. Every single one. The obvious ones and the hidden ones you take for granted.
Then ask yourself: Could someone with zero experience replicate what you’ve built, even with your exact blueprint?
Of course not.
Because blueprints don’t include the thousands of micro-decisions. The pattern recognition. The intuition.
That’s not luck. That’s mastery in disguise.
And if everything so far was just the warm-up act?
Imagine what you’re capable of in the main event.
The internet is shifting. Old businesses are struggling. New technologies are disrupting everything.
But if you’ve got real skills then disruption isn’t a threat.
It’s your cue to take the stage.
Stop calling it luck.
Start calling it what it is: preparation for what comes next.
The main event is about to begin.
And you’re more ready than you’ve ever been.
Namaste,
Olly