“I studied at FTU2. Now I work for myself (self-employed). I am not running a startup—that sounds too grand, and I am not at that level yet. I just run a small business.”
I used to work for other people in communications, with business owners asking me for all kinds of communications advice. But that is in the past. I put it all aside and threw away those impressive labels like ‘communication executive’ or ‘communication manager.’ I discarded the fancy life of waking up, choosing a dress, applying lipstick and hopping on my bike to zip to the office. Getting off, pressing the lift button, swaying my hips stylishly, and pulling out my phone when free to check whether today’s lipstick looked good enough and whether my bag matched my outfit. Swiping my card, sitting at my desk in the cool air conditioning, making coffee, sipping it to wake up, then working.
Work ends at 6 p.m., then the team gets together to eat, watch films, and drink, sometimes finishing at 8 p.m., sometimes at 9 p.m. By the time I drag myself home, it is 10 p.m. Then there is only browsing Facebook, posting photos and statuses, chatting and sending hearts, washing up, and sleeping. The next morning, the same cycle repeats. Dresses and clothes, food and drinks, drinking and more drinking. Of course, the fun always comes with idle gossip: what trouble CEO A ran into, company B’s poor communications, product C’s successful launch, Mr. D and Mr. Z’s explosive argument, how Ms. Y was so wrong, lacking both backbone and professional competence…
Oh, the gossip, cursing the boss, judging others—you could talk all day and never finish. And what else is there to do besides work, idle gossip, and complaints? You sit in the office all day, untouched by sun or rain. Outside, Saigon may be raining so hard the streets are flooding, while inside that air-conditioned office, you may not even know rain exists.
Then there is money, always money. I earn it, so why does it all disappear? Clothes, dresses, shoes, bracelets, rings, coffee, drinking, movies. A few gatherings with the team, friends, or company and millions fly away. By month’s end, it is back to instant noodles and cold rice, waiting for payday. If the salary dares arrive 1 day late, everyone from the boss to the manager gets a furious earful. I work myself to death, and you do not pay me—what is that about?
Then I grew bored. Bored with that life. Bored with trivial conversations, moving from clothes, dresses, and lipstick to judging singers and actors, then discussing the boss’s home, children, and family.
Then comes exhaustion.
I quit.
Go out and trade independently. Run your own business. Surely life will get so much better. From employee, I have become the boss. Oh yes. Following the trend. Pretty impressive. Admittedly, there is no capital, but never mind; deal with things as they come.
That was when I got a taste of it.
Before I began trading, someone more experienced advised me: “You can definitely do it. The question is whether you dare put your ego aside. Are you thick-skinned enough?”
Oh, are you thick-skinned enough?
Yes, am I thick-skinned enough?
I had no capital. Fortunately, through an acquaintance, I could take goods and pay later. When I first started, I did not understand prices well and sold too cheaply. The supplier said: “I will lower the price for you. I sell a lot, so a discount is fine. You only have a few orders.” I bowed my head. Yes, she was right. Only a very kind person would care for me like that.
But the phrase ‘there – are – hardly – any – orders’ describes my situation exactly. That is the bitter part.
I used to wear dresses and high heels and complain endlessly after walking 200m. Now it is just jeans, a T-shirt and flat sandals. Saigon has four directions—Bình Thạnh, Bình Tân, Bình Chánh and Gò Vấp—and I cover all four in 1 day. Saigon’s sun is like a blazing pan, yet I still rush out at 12 noon. Stay home and lose orders, or go out and earn money—choose! I would rush out even at 12 midnight, never mind midday. Some days I eat 3 meals, some days 2, and some days I combine all 3 into one.
I used to hold my head high and criticize: ‘This ad is bad,’ ‘That campaign is no good’… Now I cannot even do 1/10 of that campaign. Where is the money? Where is the infrastructure? Back then, spending a hundred thousand on Facebook ads seemed too little; you needed several million to know how effective they were. Now, if Facebook consumes 30 thousand without producing an order, it feels like my heart is being torn apart. That is money, money—not shells on the beach to pick up or jackfruit leaves to pluck. Facebook, if you are spending my money like that, could you please give me an order??
I used to walk into other people’s companies and comment, criticize and offer suggestions: ‘This is so ugly, that is so bad. Why don’t you fix it?’ Now I strain to smile as people tell me, ‘You are not doing it right; this is not good, that is not good.’ There you have it. Life is funny: you are furious, yet still have to smile. People offer feedback because they want the best for you, and I am grateful. But actually doing it? Fixing 1 thing costs a chunk of money. Changing 1 sentence costs another chunk. Money, money. Then time—there is never enough. Then staff—I dare not hire anyone; where would I get the money to pay them? Then orders: if none arrive from morning to afternoon, I become restless, as if sitting on a hot pan. The moment a customer messages me, I feel lifted from hell to heaven and rush to chat. Friends can wait a thousand years for a reply, but customers must receive one within 1 minute.
I used to work in communications. I was pretty impressive, too. Yet now I cannot even promote my own brand. It feels like a slap in the face.
Then my ego shattered.
My ego was shattered by rounds of cursing, feedback, and scolding, then customers asking, ‘Where are my goods? Why haven't they arrived?’ My ego was shattered by a billion things not going my way. Today I want to run ads, but my Visa card is blocked. Today I want to finish an article, but all kinds of things happen.
Whenever something has a plan, it never goes according to plan. I used to make client plans with PowerPoint, Excel and timelines, send them by email and track the timelines. Now I am so fed up I do not even bother planning in Excel. I write things on paper because it is quicker, and if something goes wrong, I can fix it fast. Throw the timeline away; orders are everything.
Then my ego shattered every time money ran short. Money, money, money! When I was an employee, money did not seem important because life was so comfortable: even if I spent the day lounging around browsing Facebook, my salary still went into my account. Now, anyone who dares say money is unimportant, come here and slap me 1 time so I can see whether this is real or a dream! Money is unimportant, you say? Right, unimportant because it is far too important! Every 1 day I wake up is 1 day of asking: How do I earn money? Where are the orders? What must I do to increase sales? Then what, and what next?
Sometimes emotions reach such a peak that I want to cry and laugh hysterically at the same time. Sometimes I look calm and silent but am actually furious. Sometimes I feel terribly sad. After just a few months, I have asked myself a hundred times whether I am on the right path. How often have I thought about simply taking a salaried job? In fact, I still work part-time for someone else to earn enough basic income to support myself each month. Keep going or stop? How did I never understand that being my own boss would be this hard? The slightest mention of money makes me jump because I fear risk. Running a business without capital means fearing that everything you do will fail to earn money back or produce losses. Yet in the past, when my boss rejected a plan, I smiled outwardly while inwardly cursing generations of his ancestors for failing to value my ideas. Now, what ideas? Only money and orders matter to keep me and my tiny brand alive, day by day…
Then I see friends posting check-in photos at cafés and restaurants, and my heart twists. Then they upload pictures of dresses, clothes, lipstick, and makeup, and my heart breaks into pieces again. So jealous. Their lives are so comfortable, untouched by sun or rain. Meanwhile, I sit amid 1 heap of chaos, with 1 brand nobody knows, 1 debt to suppliers, future plans tangled with the present, studying, graduation, temporary work, and everything else. Sometimes I want to burst into tears right in the middle of it all.
But I Still Keep Going. Given the Choice Again, I Still Would Not Choose to Work for Someone Else.
I had already started working for myself. I had already understood that feeling. My ego was shattered. The “snobbery” that every FTU student has to some degree was shattered. I saw myself as no different from a man selling rice meals or a woman running a shop. There was nothing superior about me; we were all alike. Nothing to be arrogant about.
There is nothing to be ashamed of now. In the past, when I ran out of money, I dared not go for coffee with friends, afraid they would see my small change when I paid and look down on me. Now I walk into Thế Giới Di Động, grab a salesperson, ask every question under the sun, and try 3 phones, only to discover when paying that I am short 51,000 đồng. So I say goodbye to the 4 staff and go home. No shame. No embarrassment. Yes, that is how broke I am. Meeting friends, I say it straight: I'm poor, OK? If you like, stay friends; if not, don't. That's how poor I am now—what are you going to do about it?
There is no pampered young lady anymore. No fear of sun or wind, “distance or fatigue,” as office workers often complain about. No more grumbling about a difficult boss, heavy workload, or crazy customers, as I used to do when employed. Now whoever brings me money is king. Full stop. Nothing is difficult; I have already been through difficulty. Now there is only harder and harder still. But never mind, there is nothing to fear. Let it be. Having reached this point, not much could be worse. At worst, I stay this poor. So what? Whatever. I am not afraid. Just keep doing it.
Now I understand loneliness: the feeling that no one understands you. Friends do not understand. Good people offer sincere feedback on the brand, and my gratitude can never end. Others look down on me as a trader, suspect I am trying to profit from them, and stop being friends. Fine, then. Suit yourself. The loneliness, the anxiety, the emotional extremes: peak anxiety, peak sadness, daily nervousness, waiting for every order… the loneliness of realizing few understand your path, seeing your vision fail to materialize while challenges lie scattered everywhere… Now I truly understand. Once you understand, there is no going back. The loneliness of being your own boss is so strange: so sad and bewildering, yet after experiencing it 1 time, why can you no longer let go… Why is that?
And dreams. The dreams are still there, intact. And vision. Looking ahead to what I want a few months or 1 year from now. Sometimes, when I walk into a café, I never cease to admire the vision of the person at the top. So talented. To have built 1 beautiful chain like this. Meanwhile, I cannot even handle a few orders and a few customers. Their vision reaches so far.
One day, I will be like them. I will be as good as they are. I will handle things as they do. Right now, my capacity is still small, so life gives me small challenges that I must struggle through. A bigger boat meets stronger winds. I will accomplish great things when my capacity is great enough. Surely one day I will. Surely. It's all right for now. I am still very young, only in my twenties. I have a long life ahead and many opportunities, as long as I am willing to try. As long as I stay resilient. So what if I am a girl? Gender has nothing to do with it. I only need courage, dreams, faith, and perseverance. Surely one day I will do it.
And so, I do not know how to write enough to capture all the joys and sorrows of the past few months
Just a few words for FTUers. Do whatever suits you. The great thing about employment is the security and peace of mind. As for being your own boss, you have seen my journey: everything from excitement to fear to being utterly battered. You get freedom, but you are responsible for everything yourself. Oh, what a high price freedom demands.
When working for someone else, your ego can soar when you see your achievements. Sometimes you forget that the company's existing systems helped you achieve them so quickly. When running your own business, your ego can easily shatter when you find yourself unable to accomplish anything worthwhile without any support.
Now I understand why people say self-employment requires passion. Yes, you need 1 thing as sweet as passion to sustain you through bitter moments. And there are so many bitter moments that you cannot count them. Sometimes you can only sit dazed, drinking coffee and thinking of nothing—partly because there is too much to think about, partly because you are too sad to form a coherent thought.
But I still like it. I still like being my own boss. Since becoming a business owner, I feel ordinary, approachable and close to real life. Nothing lofty or aristocratic—just like the woman selling vegetables at the market. Each day I remain alive and fighting is 1 happy day. So what if I fail today? It is hardly my first failure. I have failed so often that I am tired of it and no longer afraid.
As a business owner, I find every day meaningful, vivid and substantial. No more days watching the clock until 6 in the evening so I can rush out of the office; no more waking up, seeing it is 8 and feeling too dispirited to get dressed for work. Every morning brings 1 question: What can I do today to increase sales?
The end-of-day result is the answer to your efforts. And it is brutally honest. Whether you do well or badly, sales reveal everything. Like it or not, you must face your actual abilities. How much money you make depends on how capable you are. Face it until your ego shatters, until you no longer fear humiliation, stupidity or ignorance—because you have experienced so much of all three. Then what is there to fear that would stop you from continuing?
Keep moving forward. With every new day, take 1 more step. What matters in life is not how long we live but its quality, right? At 21, then, I have experienced so much over these past months. Being my own boss, getting battered and feeling sad. But I like it. I love that life. I find it meaningful. I find it deep. Truly real.
Yes, then just keep going. The road is still very long—immensely long. But if we keep walking, we must get there eventually, right!’.
Collected
Chương trình liên quan tại YUP Education: X-Startup – khóa học khởi nghiệp «Khởi Chánh Nghiệp» · The Journey – lộ trình phát triển doanh nhân
