Server deployment across regions? Handled it.

4 revenue models, 4 payment gateway integrations? Handled it.

Dual-domain architecture, shared database across projects? Handled it.

But one thing triggered real fear for the first time—selling it.

01

If you're a solo indie developer trying to monetize, the entire journey looks something like this:

Find demand → Build product → Create content → Get traffic → Sell

Every stage can be brutal, but for me, I'd already gotten through the first few—I figured out the demand, built the product, wrote 60+ pieces of content over three months, and kept learning, refining, and building my traffic skills.

But that last stage? That's where I felt true fear for the first time.

Sales.

As much as I resist it, as much as it repels me, I can't deny its existence.

Think about it—if you don't sell your own product, what then? Just wait for SEO? Hope someone else does it for you?

That's delusional.

02

I've had a bias against salespeople since I started working.

Most of them wear sharp suits, hand you a business card, and lead with "Hello, our company has a product that's perfect for someone like you..."

I'd see them coming from a mile away and avoid them. Because I knew—they're there with the intent to "sell me something." It feels like a predator eyeing prey. Uncomfortable as hell.

That defensiveness and aversion meant I never tried to understand the industry. My knowledge of sales was a complete blank.

Until I finished building Pay4SaaS, and started stressing over "How do I sell this?"—that's when I realized I'd already switched into the seller's role.

But I didn't want to become the guy in a suit posting sales scripts in group chats.

So I started thinking—is there a way that I could accept? A way that programmers could accept?

Later, I learned that sales has levels.

The kind I hated is just the shallowest layer—pushing products with scripts. Above that, there's selling results, selling experiences, selling beliefs, selling states of being... The higher the level, the less it feels like selling.

03

So I opened my notes app and asked myself: if I already know how to sell, why am I still afraid to start? What am I afraid of? That led to 3 questions:

Fear of doing it badly—if I write and it's terrible, I'll be disappointed.

Fear it won't work—even if I write well, what if nobody buys? Still disappointing.

Not knowing where to start—I have plenty of topics in my head, but I pick one up, then put it back down.

I assigned weights to each fear. First one: 40%. Second: 50%. Third: 10%.

Then I asked myself—if I don't write, does that mean I won't be disappointed?

The answer: not writing is 100% disappointment. Because if I don't write, I definitely won't sell anything. No illusions.

But even though I understood the logic, even though Li Xiaolai's Learning Sovereignty Declaration echoed in my head:

I know I look clumsy right now, but everyone starts that way. With practice, it becomes natural, and naturally gets better.

As long as I invest time and energy, there's nothing I can't learn in the long run.

I was still a bit scared. Couldn't put pen to paper. Haha. Starting is the hardest part, isn't it?

But here's the interesting thing—I realized these three layers of fear perfectly mirror what my users feel when facing SaaS payment & billing integration.

Fear of doing it badly—if integration breaks, launch day becomes a disaster.

Fear it won't work—payments work fine, but what if the product doesn't sell?

Not knowing where to start—do I do trials first? Upgrades/downgrades? Renewals? One-time purchases or subscriptions? Credit systems?

I don't need to research my users. I am my user.

04

So my fear is actually where I understand them best.

Sales was never "I want to sell you something." It's "I understand your situation, and I happen to have an answer."

After realizing this, the fear didn't disappear—but I learned how to coexist with it.

If you're a developer who's built a product but doesn't know how to talk about it—you're not alone. Starting is hard. That's normal. But staying silent means 0% chance of selling. Experienced developers don't lack coding skills or product sense—those are solid. What's missing is the ability to sell the product, and most developers lack this. Once you patch that gap, every line of code you write can actually become valuable.

After breaking through that mental block, I felt lighter. So two days ago, I started writing my first piece. Hah. I've got many more realizations to share—more to come.