The Things Nobody Tells You About Selling Something You Made
"Creating something is exciting. Putting a price on it is where the real mindset work begins."
Everyone loves telling you to start the business, build the website, and finally put your work out into the world. What they don't tell you is that one of the hardest parts comes after you've created something: deciding what it's actually worth. Whether it's a product, a service, or a dream you've spent years building, putting a price on your own work has a funny way of making every insecurity show up at once. I've questioned my prices more times than I can count, and somewhere between coaching packages, handmade products, and one very opinionated squirrel in my head, I learned that selling isn't the hardest part. Believing your work has value usually is.
Nobody talks about what happens after you finally create something.
Everyone tells you to start the business.
Build the website.
Create the product.
Open the LLC.
Cool.
Now put a price on it.
...
Cue the internal panic.
Because somehow charging $30 for something you spent three months creating suddenly feels like you're robbing people.
Nobody talks about what happens after you finally create something.
Everyone tells you to start the business.
Build the website.
Create the product.
Open the LLC.
Cool.
Now put a price on it.
...
Cue the internal panic.
Because somehow charging someone for something you spent weeks, months, or even years creating suddenly feels like you're robbing people.
It doesn't matter whether it's a coaching session, a handmade product, artwork, photography, or the world's cutest squirrel-shaped cookie. The second money enters the conversation, so does every insecurity you've ever had.
· "Is this too expensive?"
· "What if nobody buys it?"
· "What if they think I'm full of myself?"
Welcome to entrepreneurship.
Pricing Your Own Work
When I graduated from Life and Success Coaching School back in 2022, my brain became an idea factory.
I started thinking about all the things I could create for my website to generate additional income. Coaching packages. Workbooks. Courses. Memberships. Pretty much anything I could dream up.
Looking back, I wasn't building one business.
I was trying to build every business.
One of the first things I created was a coaching proposal for an organization. This was before ChatGPT entered my life, so every single page was written by yours truly. I was proud of it.
I proposed a three-month coaching program for twenty employees and priced it at around $5,000.
At the time, I honestly thought I was asking for a lot of money.
They thought it should be free.
Let's do the math for a second.
That worked out to about $250 per employee for twelve weeks of one-on-one coaching.
Around $20.83 per coaching session.
I've spent more than that on lunch.
Looking back now, I wasn't overcharging.
I was practically volunteering.
The funny thing is, I didn't realize I was underselling myself until much later. At the time, I genuinely believed I was asking people to make a huge investment.
Now I realize I wasn't putting a price on my knowledge, experience, education, or the transformation I hoped to help someone achieve.
I was simply picking a number that felt "safe."
And if there's one thing I've learned since then, it's this:
Safe pricing rarely reflects your actual value.
Feeling guilty charging money
Listen, I would love to make my services free. I really would. But this chavala has bills to pay, food to put on the table, and a business to keep running.
Somewhere along the way, people started confusing passion with free.
One of the hardest parts of owning a business isn't creating the product or offering the service. It's getting comfortable charging for it without feeling guilty.
Then there's family and friends.
If you're lucky, they'll cheer you on and tell everyone they know about what you're building.
If you're really lucky, they'll actually buy something.
Unfortunately, that isn't everyone's reality.
Sometimes the people closest to you expect your work for free simply because they know you. They'll question your prices, point out every little flaw, or somehow forget that if they walked into a store, they wouldn't ask a complete stranger for a family discount.
Meanwhile, you're already questioning yourself enough.
So now you're not only trying to believe your work has value, you're also defending why it isn't free.
Pero, here's the thing...
Those aren't your people.
They're not the people you're building your business for.
For me, I want the things I create to genuinely make a difference in someone's life, the same way they've made a difference in mine. Whether it's a coaching session, a journal, a magnet, or my Abuela Wisdom cards, I hope someone walks away feeling a little more seen, a little more encouraged, or a little more confident than they did before.
People aren't paying for paper, ink, or an hour on my calendar.
They're paying for the years of experience, the lessons I learned the hard way, the education I invested in, and the hope that something I created might make their own journey just a little easier.
And that's worth something.
Boutique pricing
Just when I thought I had finally figured out my pricing...
Entrepreneurship said, "That's cute."
Here I was with a published book, affirmation cards, journals, and a complete Reset Kit that I truly believed could help someone navigate a difficult season of life.
The problem?
It was all sitting in my office collecting dust.
I didn't create these things so I could admire them every time I walked past my bookshelf. I created them because I wanted them in the hands of the women who needed them.
So I started researching little boutique shops around the Valley. Consignment stores. Crystal shops. Locally owned boutiques. Yoga studios. Anywhere my products might find the right home.
Then reality showed up.
Everywhere I looked there were monthly booth fees, commissions on every sale, and additional costs I hadn't even considered.
You think pricing your products is hard the first time?
Try repricing everything after someone tells you they're taking 20% of every sale.
Suddenly, it isn't just about covering the cost of printing, packaging, and shipping anymore. You're accounting for rent, commissions, displays, credit card fees, and a dozen other expenses nobody mentions when they tell you to "just start a business."
For a while, I honestly thought those little boutique stores were meant for established businesses, not someone like me who was still learning sales, marketing, and how to explain what I even sold in one sentence.
Pero...
Sometimes you stumble across exactly what you need.
For me, that was Amor Collective.
Yes, there's a monthly fee.
But what I'm really paying for isn't shelf space.
I'm paying for a year of business coaching, marketing education, strategy, networking, accountability, and a community of women who are building businesses right alongside me.
I'm not walking into entrepreneurship blind anymore.
I'm learning from people who've already walked the path.
And honestly...
That might end up being the best investment I've made yet.
The $12 magnet conversation
A few weeks ago, I had a whole conversation with Chattie, a.k.a. ChatGPT, about my magnets.
Actually...
It was more like an argument.
"Geezus, Bestie... $12 for a magnet?"
We went back and forth about pricing, marketing, boutique stores, perceived value, and whether people would actually pay that much for something that fits in the palm of your hand.
I kept thinking it had to be cheaper.
It had to be more "reasonable."
More affordable.
But then I found myself thinking about the beginning of this blog and the coaching proposal I created back in 2022.
Back then, I underestimated the value of my services.
Now I was doing the exact same thing with my products.
Because people aren't just buying a magnet.
They're buying the story behind it.
They're buying a reminder they can look at every single morning.
They're buying a little piece of wisdom that helped shape the woman I became.
Every single magnet I designed started with something my grandma actually said.
Growing up, my abuela sold tamales year-round in Miami. A dozen for twenty dollars, and let me tell you... they were dang good tamales.
Before that, when she still lived in Mexico, she'd sell pastries out of the trunk of her car.
My grandma was the best salesperson I ever knew.
Not because she pressured people into buying.
Because she believed in what she was selling.
She also believed something else.
That if you put your mind to something and saved a little here and there, you could build a better life.
I heard those words so many times growing up that I almost took them for granted.
Now...
They're printed on magnets.
On affirmation cards.
Inside journals.
And one day, they'll probably be passed down to someone else's children and grandchildren.
When I look at it that way...
Twelve dollars doesn't feel like I'm selling a magnet.
It feels like I'm sharing a little piece of my abuela with the world.
And if I'm being completely honest...
I don't think she'd bat an eye at the price.
I think she'd smile, tell me to stop doubting myself, and remind me that people will always pay for something that brings value into their lives.
I miss her every day.
But somehow, when I'm creating these products, I still feel like my angelito de la guardia is right here cheering me on.
"Would I pay this?"
Let me ask you something.
When you're scrolling through Amazon and adding things to your cart, do you stop and question every price?
I know I don't.
Somehow, it's different when we walk through a farmers market or a little boutique.
That's when I hear things like,
"Eso cuesta mucho."
"That's too expensive."
"I could make that at home."
"¡Está loca!"
It's funny how quickly we question the price when we can actually see the person who made it.
The truth is, the things I create didn't come from a giant warehouse or some overseas manufacturer waiting to stamp my logo on them.
My book took me a year to write.
Then another few months working with an editor.
I hired someone to design the cover.
I hired someone else to format it for Amazon.
And let's not even talk about my half-hearted marketing efforts. 😂
Every journal, every card, every magnet, every product in my little tiendita represents hundreds of hours that nobody ever sees.
And I'm not unique.
Most small business owners are doing the same thing.
They're the CEO.
The accountant.
The customer service department.
The marketing team.
The photographer.
The shipping department.
The social media manager.
The website designer.
And somewhere in between all of that, they're probably working a full-time job, raising kids, showing up for baseball games, making dinner, and trying to remember if they switched the laundry over.
When you buy from a small business, you're not just buying a product.
You're investing in someone's dream.
A couple of years ago, I made a promise to myself that whenever I could, I would shop local and support minority-owned businesses.
Not because I feel obligated.
Because now I understand what goes into creating something from absolutely nothing.
So...
Would I pay $12 for my magnet?
Absolutely.
Not because it's a magnet.
Because I know the story, the time, the lessons, and the heart behind it.
And after living this journey myself...
I hope the next time you walk into a little boutique or stroll through a farmers market, you'll see more than just the price tag.
You'll see the person who had the courage to put a price on a dream.
