It started with a jar of protein powder. And it led to a half century of watching an industry I loved turn into something I barely recognize. This is what I learned — and why I built this site.
This was 1974. I had become a vegetarian for spiritual reasons, but my body was paying the price. I was exhausted all the time. Couldn't think straight. Felt like I was disappearing from the inside out.
Then a friend handed me some supplements from a network marketing company. Within three days, I felt like a different person. Not hype. Not placebo. Those products genuinely changed how I felt — and I've never forgotten it.
When I realized I could share that experience — that I could help other people feel the way I felt — I didn't hesitate. I dove in headfirst.
In the beginning, network marketing felt like a movement. People cared about the products. They cared about each other. Somewhere in the last 15 years, that shifted. The industry became more aggressive. More cutthroat. More focused on recruitment than results.
These days, I get pitched almost daily by someone who's convinced they've found "the one."
And I get it. I really do. Because I've felt that exact same fire. I've joined companies with that same hope. I've believed the promises. I've done the work. And I've watched those companies collapse — sometimes in months, sometimes in a year or two — leaving good, hardworking people holding the bag.
Not because they didn't work hard enough. Not because they didn't believe enough. Not because they weren't "coachable." The income disclosures tell the story — if you know where to look. The top 1% make life-changing money. The next 9% might break even. And everyone else spends more than they earn.
Drain their savings chasing a dream that was never mathematically realistic
Lose friendships because every conversation became a sales pitch
Blame themselves when the company collapsed, convinced they just weren't good enough
That last one breaks my heart every time. Because most of the time, it was not their fault. They were never given the full picture. They were trusting. They were financially pressured. And the person pitching them — usually a friend, usually someone who genuinely believed in what they were sharing — didn't know the full story either.
They want to believe there's a way to earn extra income, work from home, be their own boss, and build something meaningful. And the person pitching them? Usually a friend. Someone they trust. Someone who genuinely believes in what they're selling.
But that friend usually doesn't know what they don't know. They don't know what the income disclosure actually says. They don't know the FDA sent the company a warning letter six months ago. They don't know the compensation plan is mathematically designed so that only the top tier profits. They don't know this exact business model was flagged as a pyramid scheme in three other countries.
They're excited. They're hopeful. And they're sharing that hope with you.
I've been the believer. I've been the recruiter. I've been the one who got burned. And I've watched too many good people — people with families, dreams, and real bills to pay — get caught in the same traps I've seen for decades.
You deserve to know the truth before you invest your time, your money, and your reputation. Not after. Not once you're already in. Before.
If you've found a legitimate opportunity that fits your skills, your market, and your life — and you've done your homework — I'm genuinely happy for you. Go build something great.
But if you're still deciding, I want you to go in with your eyes open. Know the odds. Read the income disclosure. Understand what you're really signing up for — including the monthly costs, the recruiting requirements, and what happens if you decide to leave.
If you're considering an opportunity and want a second opinion — or if you just need someone to talk it through with, no judgment, no sales pitch — I'm here. Email me directly. I'll get back to you as soon as I can.
Whatever you decide, I hope you choose clarity over hype, truth over promises, and a path that honors the life you're trying to build.