Have you ever been in a room, virtual or otherwise, and all the talk is about massive business growth plans? The conversation always seems to drift toward hiring, scaling, building a team. You smile and may give a similar response to everyone else, but inside you feel like you’re not quite in the right crowd. That somehow, wanting to keep small, and have a great business that fits your life feels like you’re not on the same page as everyone else… even feeling a bit inferior. Maybe you’re thinking… Is there something wrong with me because I’m told to “think big” and if I don’t want to scale, maybe I’m just small minded.
Staying small and being growth-minded are not conflicting statements.
Maybe you’re at a point where you’ve proven your work, you have clients who value what you do, and you’re starting to think more carefully about how you spend your time and energy — in your business and outside of it. You’re not against growth. You just want the growth you pursue to mean something beyond a bigger org chart. You want to make the most of what you have so that you have more left over for the rest of your life.
That’s not a lack of ambition. It’s a different kind of ambition.
Someone told me once that I was just building a job, not a business. I won’t lie, it offended me a little.
I’ve been a micro business for almost 15 years. I’ve out earned my corporate salary. I work from wherever I choose. I show up for my aging parents without asking anyone’s permission. I’ve never had to justify why I needed time off to attend a funeral. (True story — in my corporate world, only close relatives may warrant bereavement leave, and then it still had to be approved and the time out was limited.)
And yet, because I haven’t hired a dozen people, haven’t chased the 10x growth playbook — some folks in the business world look at what I do and see something less than.
I’d like to respectfully push back on that.
What about the assumption that bigger equals better?
There’s a prevailing narrative in entrepreneurship that the goal is always growth — more clients, more employees, more infrastructure, more everything. If you’re not scaling aggressively, you’re playing small. If you’re staying solo or micro, you’re settling.
I tried that path. Early on, I started building a marketing agency — little departments, a growing client roster, people to manage and oversee. I was developing processes, sure. But to sustain that model, I’d have had to keep layering on team members and organizational structure. And somewhere in the middle of building it, I realized I’d spent years in corporate life managing exactly that kind of structure — and left it on purpose.
Why was I trying to go back?
If you intentionally want to stay small, you’re not alone. Here’s what the numbers say.
Here’s what’s interesting, the research doesn’t support the idea that staying solo or micro is a financially inferior choice. According to U.S. Census Bureau data, there are 29.8 million non-employer businesses in the country generating roughly $1.7 trillion in revenue — about 6.8% of total GDP. From businesses with no employees.
A 2025 study found that 5.6 million independent workers reported earning more than $100,000 annually — well above the average U.S. worker salary of around $66,000. That group grew by 19% in a single year.
One person, no employees, six figures. It’s not a rare outlier scenario. It’s increasingly common.
Research also shows that solo and micro business owners who focus on the right things — intentional service models, smart pricing, repeatable systems — can generate $100K to $300K without adding staff. The gap between average earners and high earners in this space usually comes down to business model design, not headcount.
What intentional smallness can buy you.
When I left corporate life, I took a pay cut at first. That’s honest. But within a few years, I was earning more than I ever had working for someone else. And unlike a corporate salary — which moved in small, incremental steps no matter how hard I worked — my income potential is tied to how intentionally I run my business.
I can serve clients better. I can get more efficient. I can structure my services in ways that create more value without just adding more hours. I’m not competing with anyone else’s ladder. I’m focused on improving my own approach, my own systems, my own client relationships.
In corporate life, raises were incremental and the climb to the top was grueling. As a business of one, the only competition is with myself — and I can adjust my focus when life calls for it. That kind of freedom is hard to put a dollar amount on.
That’s a different kind of growth. And it suits me.
The “just building a job” criticism.
I understand what people mean when they say that. If your income disappears the moment you stop working, if your business can’t function without you in every task, if there are no systems or structure, well, that’s a real problem worth solving.
But that’s not the same thing as being small. That’s a systems problem, not a size problem.
A well-run micro business has repeatable processes, clear service offerings, and the ability for its owner to take a breath without everything falling apart. It can bring in a VA or contractor when the time is right — not because it’s forced to grow, but because it’s ready to do so intentionally. And for the record, getting some help doesn’t necessarily disqualify you from the solopreneur identity. It might nudge you into micro business territory, but if you’re still the one driving the core work and the client relationships, you’re still very much in this camp…regardless of whether someone helps you with your podcast editing, your bookkeeping, or even sifting through your mounds of emails.
Small doesn’t mean fragile. Small doesn’t mean undisciplined. Small doesn’t mean you’re not serious.
Knowing your own value vs. being like everyone else.
One of the most freeing shifts I’ve made is stopping the comparison game altogether. Lisa McGuire talks about what she calls the Category of ONLY™ — the idea that your real value isn’t found by studying your competition or forcing some kind of artificial differentiation. It comes from the intersection of your lived experience, your learned wisdom, and the insight that only you can bring. It’s not about crafting a better image. It’s about trusting what you already know.
That concept lands differently when you’ve stopped trying to build a business that looks like everyone else’s. When you stay personal, stay intentional, and stay closely connected to the people you serve, you’re not a commodity. You’re not interchangeable. You’re one of one.
It’s a choice, not a consolation prize.
Here’s what I want to say to you directly, whether you’re deep in this season or just starting to give yourself permission to think this way:
If you want to grow big, build a team, and scale aggressively — that’s great. Do that. Own it fully and go after it.
And if you want to stay small on purpose, run a tight and excellent micro business, and protect the life you’ve built around it — that’s equally valid. Do that. Own it just as fully.
Neither path makes you more or less serious, more or less ambitious, more or less worthy of respect. The measure of a good business isn’t its size. It’s whether it works for your clients, and for you.
Maybe someday you’ll change your mind. Maybe your season shifts and going bigger makes sense for the life you want. There’s nothing wrong with leaving that door open. But right now, for a lot of us, the work is about getting more efficient, more intentional, and more clear, so that we have more left over for everything outside of work.
Being small is a worthy pursuit. You don’t have to defend it.
Create the work and life that makes you thrive.