How to Stop Hooking Fish and Start Landing Whales

I used to "dream big" about launches.

But most of what I got was big lunches, eaten at my keyboard, watching the Slack pings roll in like hungry seagulls.

One Tuesday, at 1:11 am, I woke up with the letter "D" indented across my cheek—a physical souvenir from answering a low-ticket client who ghosted me the next morning.

If you’ve ever had to explain keyboard face-lines to your Airpods in the mirror, this is for you.

Let’s get honest (but funny):

Everyone online claims they want "freedom"

What most are building?

Calendars that look like car crash reports.

Ironic: hustle is the real hamster wheel, and most of us are sprinting with the brakes on.

But it gets worse.

There’s this heavy-breathing hope that if you just post more, offer more, or "be accessible to everyone," someone upstream will finally notice and toss you a Big Opportunity.

Here’s a math lesson they don’t teach you in the Personal Branding Guru Academy:

• 10,000 followers doesn’t pay rent.

• 70 calls a week doesn’t guarantee you’ll land a single real client.

• "Value" is a codeword for spreading your soul on toast every morning and calling it breakfast.

You know you’re in the fish tank when you start optimizing your Notion dashboard instead of your profit.

Here’s what nobody ever says—out loud anyway:

"Fish pay 0% of your bills but create 90% of your stress. Whales buy your actual freedom."

There’s pain in that punchline—and also a weird sense of relief.

Let’s not lie… turning down low-ticket "maybes" hurts like ripping off a Band-Aid in a hot shower.

At first, inbox emptiness feels like the digital version of a city at midnight.

You mourn the version of you who needed to people-please, who thought another calendar invite was the answer.

(Spoiler: it wasn’t)

But let’s try a little dark romance:

In that 3am silence—past the dopamine, beyond the Slack… something colder, truer, starts to flicker.

The first Stripe notification after you say no is… poetry.

And yet, here’s the curveball:

Your next whale? It’ll show up disguised.

Mine had an icon from 2023, less than 300 followers across the internet, and DMed, "Are you still working with people?"

He didn’t want my funnel, my multi-step onboarding, or my strategy call.

He wanted my best.

(And, not to flex, he paid out my mortgage for the next three months before I finished my bagel.)

Now here’s the unfiltered difference:

• Whale clients don’t ask for one more revision at 11 pm

• Whale clients never call you "bro"

• Whale clients don’t negotiate like they’re buying produce.

They just want you—and pay, on purpose, for the privilege.

Sound abstract?

Let’s get more vivid:

Romanticism + Realism

• The emptiest calendar you’ve ever had will freak out your anxiety monster… right up to the moment you realize your stress also moved out.

• The fat checks? They’re love letters to your boundaries.

So, if you’ve ever bought a new fountain pen to reward yourself for sending 400 DMs (and still got ghosted), you’re not alone.

If you got a beautiful Notion dashboard filled with half-finished high-ticket offers, you get this.

Bold truth:

Most people think the exit from "chasing maybes" is about tactics.

The exit is about guts.

It’s about being the velvet-rope mystery at the party, not the breakdancer in the main hall.

Here’s how to start your whale era (The DM-slide version to save your scroll finger):

1. Turn your calendar into a sushi bar by secret invite. No walk-ins. If they ask for the password, you’re halfway there.

2. Nix everything that smells like desperation—people-pleasing is the only real fishy bait.

3. Craft one offer so good, whales line up and the fish don’t even get the joke.

   (Extra credit: Tell the world about the one ramen-related disaster that made you rethink everything. Realness is irresistible.)

Stop running the emotional soup kitchen.

Start building velvet ropes, moats, and "members only" signs on your soul.

Let’s not kid ourselves:

Saying no feels like a breakup.

DMs dry up, Twitter numbers dip, your Impostor Syndrome brings wine.

But… scarcity’s a luxury cologne.

The more you wear it, the more right people come close.

The magic?

In the silence, a whale always shows up just when you think the ocean’s empty.

And when it bites?

It brings other whales, credit cards, and a weird impulse to pay you just for being you.

You become the story someone else tells about boundaries.

You become the person a new sovereign creator screenshots for their Notion quotes vault.

So, what now?

I’m dropping a 5-day "Catch The Whales" series soon, only for the Creator Clarity Codex waitlist.

One drop. No replays.

If you want in, join the waitlist and come see how deep the ocean can go.

If you’d rather chase sardines, hey, the sea is wide and full of "bro, can I pick your brain?" texts.

But if you want a Stripe notification that feels like falling in love with your own damn ambition—drop your email and step behind the velvet rope.

Here: niklausyu.com/waitlist

Heads up:

From now on, alongside the usual Saturday newsletter, you’ll find 2–3 random weekday drops—fast, sharp, 3–5 minute reads that’ll snap you out of content fog and feed you clarity on demand.

Micro-insights, mind-bombs, memo-to-self moments. Less time, more value.

If you’re here to build leverage and sovereignty, don’t sleep on your inbox.

The signal just went daily(ish).

Smash reply to talk, or DM me a whale emoji.

If you ghost me, I’ll assume you’re busy upgrading from sardines.

No hard feelings. Just business.

Maybe, just maybe… a love story in the making.

Catch the whales,

Niklaus Yu