When I walked into the lion's den

(and lived to tell about it)

Last week, I found myself in a room full of sculptors, filmmakers, and visual artists—all brilliant creatives struggling to make ends meet. They'd gathered to discuss Art, Culture, AI and enterpreneurship, and let me tell you, I was so excited!

I thought we'd be on the same page, brainstorming ideas and talking non-stop about all the opportunities and ways to monetize the things we are passionate while staying true to ourselves.

I was sooooo wrong.

As I listened to story after story of financial struggle, I heard the same refrains: grants getting more competitive, government funding drying up, the system failing artists. The frustration was real, and my heart went out to them.

But then something happened that I wasn't prepared for.

When I shared my perspective—that we're living through the most incredible opportunity explosion in history, that artists have unprecedented tools to build distribution, create communities, and monetize their craft in ways that were impossible even five years ago—the room went silent.

Then the pushback started.

"That's such a corporate (?!) mindset."

"We're artists, not entrepreneurs."

I felt my face flush. Part of me wanted to shrink back, but another part—maybe the part that's been growing stronger through months of showing up online—pushed forward.

"Wait," I said. "You are all here because you want to make money while doing your art, right?"

The tension was thick enough to cut with a palette knife.

The opportunity blindness trap

Here's what I understood after this session: some people would rather spend their energy complaining about a broken system than opening their eyes to the possibilities right in front of them.

And that's their choice.

But sitting in that room, surrounded by incredible talent that felt trapped by circumstances, I realized something about myself and about the work I'm doing.

Not everyone is ready to see opportunities.

Not everyone wants to take responsibility for their own path forward.

And that's not my problem to solve.

Some people are energized by possibility. Others are drained by it.

Some people see a new tool and think, "How could this help me?" Others see the same thing and think, "This is threatening everything I know."

Some people approach challenges with curiosity. Others approach them with defensiveness.

I am done trying to convince people in the first category that they could think like the second. My experience in this room taught me something crucial: my energy belongs with the people who are already excited to explore.

You know what's funny? As uncomfortable as that confrontation was, it was also incredibly liberating.

For years, I've carried this low-level anxiety about being judged or misunderstood when I share my perspective.

I've softened my enthusiasm, hedged my statements, tried to make everyone comfortable with what I believe, which just deluted my message.

But in that room—when I was literally surrounded by people who disagreed with my core philosophy so strongly—I realized something:

I'm totally okay with not being for everyone.

I'm completely fine with some people thinking I'm too business-focused or too optimistic or too whatever.

Because on the other side of that discomfort is the most authentic version of what I have to offer.

The people I'm really here for

There are people out there who light up when they see a new AI tool and immediately start brainstorming how it could amplify their work—whether that's their creative projects, their consulting business, or that side hustle they've been dreaming about.

There's the corporate professional who's tired of their 9-to-5 drain and keeps wondering, "What if I could build something of my own?"

There's the freelancer who wants to create additional income streams that aren't tied to trading time for money.

There's the coach or consultant who sees AI not as a threat, but as a way to scale their expertise and reach more people authentically.

There's the person with deep knowledge in their field who's been thinking, "I could monetize this, but I have no idea where to start."

These people don't need to be convinced that opportunities exist.

They need tools, community, and strategies to make the most of what they already see.

They're not looking for someone to blame. They're looking for someone to learn with.

They don't want to be rescued from the system. They want to build their own.

They want to learn AI in a way that feels human and authentic—not in some sterile corporate training, but alongside people who are equally excited about building ecosystems around their unique skills, interests, and passions.

I know those people are out there and I want us to be in this together.

We don’t need to fit in, we need our own space

Next Monday (September 22nd), I'm opening the doors to my membership community AI Solopreneur Club for the first time.

This isn't for everyone, and I'm finally comfortable saying that out loud.

It's for people who see the intersection of AI, online business and their own interests & passions as exciting rather than threatening.

It's for people who want to build sustainable income streams around what they're genuinely passionate about—whether that's art, baking, consulting, teaching, writing, coaching, or any other skill they want to monetize.

It's for people who are tired of waiting for permission, funding, or the "perfect moment" to start creating the work and life they actually want.

It's for the corporate dropout, the side-hustler, the freelancer looking to scale, the expert who wants to package their knowledge, the creative who wants to reach their people.

If you're someone who approaches new opportunities with curiosity instead of resistance, who takes responsibility for your own path forward, who gets energized rather than overwhelmed by possibility—then this community is for you.

If you're still reading and nodding along, get on the waitlist here. It closes this Sunday because doors open Monday exclusively for waitlist members.

The membership opens in beta and we will co-create together, which means you will have an opportunity to shape it and get the most out of it.

The confrontation in that room taught me that I don't need to convince anyone of anything.

I just need to find my people and serve them incredibly well.

If you are one of them, I hope to see you inside!

Elena