What I’m NOT Doing in 2026

Everyone’s writing their 2026 goals right now. I’m writing my “absolutely not” list.

After 10 weeks of testing AI workflows and building in public, I learned more from what didn’t work than what did. So instead of adding more to my plate, I’m strategically quitting. Here’s what I’m NOT doing in 2026 - and what I’m doing instead.

NOT #1: Building Products Before Audience

In October 2023, I was ten months into designing an illustration collection. Beautiful work I was proud of. Hours of detailed drawing. My spare bedroom stocked with amazing quality products I had ordered. Launch day came, and I had 18 email subscribers. Made £0 from strangers.

In November 2024, I was six months into creating my next collection, focused solely on tea towel this time. Hand-illustrated artworks, carefully curated designs, premium linen. I was exhausted, my hands full with my newborn son. I could have waited but didn’t want to miss the end of year festive season gift giving. Launched to 23 subscribers. Made £308…and every single sale from family members and friends who were kind enough to support me.

I kept doing the same thing. Spending a month building for every 1 hour of marketing. Creating products I hoped people would want and love and much as I did, then wondering why nobody bought them. I built shops on streets where nobody walked, then stood inside feeling confused about the lack of foot traffic.

The problem wasn’t my work. It was the order of operations. I spent making things for an audience that didn’t exist yet.

What I’m doing instead:

Building the audience first. 52 weeks of consistent content, then asking them what they actually need. Testing offers through real conversations before building anything. In 2026, it’s audience first, clarity second, product last. In that order.

NOT #2: Forcing Monetization Before Clarity

I almost set a £5,000 revenue goal for 2026. Sounds reasonable, right? Except I had 8 Substack subscribers, zero positioning clarity. Was I an operations consultant? An AI educator? A product developer? A designer pivoting into something else entirely? I had no idea, but I had a revenue target.

The math would have required 100-200 subscribers by July, a 4-5x growth rate I had never achieved in my life. But I wrote it down anyway because you’re supposed to have revenue goals, aren’t you?

Then I built a Revenue Validation Calculator using Claude and plugged in my actual numbers. To hit £5,000, I would need 47 purchases at £107. Or 94 at £53. Or 235 at £21. At my current growth rate of 1-2 subscribers per week, I would have maybe 65 subscribers by July. Even at 10% conversion—which is industry excellent—that’s 5-8 sales. The math didn’t add up. Not even close.

I was about to spend a year chasing a goal I had zero realistic path to hitting, just because it felt like what I should be aiming for.

What I’m doing instead:

Calling 2026 an Exploration Year. Target: 80-100 engaged subscribers. Revenue target: £0-500. I’m testing different positioning angles through real conversations, with real people, then making a data-driven decision about the business model in Q4 2026. Because income isn’t essential until September 2027 (when both my kids are in school and our household math changes), and revenue pressure kills the kind of exploration that actually leads somewhere useful.

NOT #3: Posting Traditional Content on Instagram

Six years of Instagram posts. 431 followers, mostly friends and family. Zero business inquiries. Zero sales. Four to hours per week maintaining a presence that generated absolutely nothing.

I kept showing up because I thought I was supposed to. Because everyone says you need to be on Instagram. Because quitting felt like admitting failure. But last month I sat down and looked at the data—really looked at it—and realised I had been serving a platform that wasn’t serving me back. Six years. Not a single client. Not one sale. Just time disappearing into a void.

Meanwhile, LinkedIn gives me 5-15 likes per post and actual conversations with people in my industry. Substack gives me 63-75% open rates and subscribers who email me directly. The engagement isn’t even comparable.

What I’m doing instead:

Focusing on LinkedIn and Substack, platforms where my audience actually is. Maybe I’ll test Instagram Reels in Q2 with clear success criteria, but if they don’t hit metrics by June, I’m stopping forever. No more guilt. No more “I should be on Instagram.” Just data and strategic choices.

NOT #4: Illustrating Every Single Post

Three weeks ago, I was two hours into a detailed illustration for my weekly post. My 15-month-old was napping. I was rushing, stressed, trying to finish before he woke up. The illustration was good, a narrative scene, detailed environment, the whole thing - but I was miserable making it.

I knew in the back of my mind that I was slowly moving away from the title of “illustrator”. Because at some point in the past few years, creating artwork became a chore. It wasn’t bringing me little joy and certainly no money.

But when I committed to writing on Substack for 12 weeks, creating hero illustrations for my posts seemed like a no-brainer. I controlled the narrative, the style, just one illustration per post, no pressure. Except the stress was undermining the entire consistency commitment I made.

What I’m doing instead:

Handwritten text carousels in Procreate, and I might explore other types of visual assets in the new year. Full narrative illustrations once a month for the posts that deserve it and when I feel inspired. I’m reclaiming 2-3 hours per week, which is 100+ hours per year I can spend on things that actually grow the business and bring me joy.

NOT #5: Hiding That I’m Figuring It Out

I’m 43 with 15 years of luxury fashion experience, 5 years of freelance consulting, 3 years running an illustration business, and two young children. Yet right now I’m struggling to answer the question: “What do you want to do when you grow up?”

It took me a long time to own up to that. It felt embarrassing, like I should have it all figured out by now. Like exploring at this age was evidence of incompetence, not strategy.

But treating exploration as something shameful doesn’t make it go away. It just makes you hide the most interesting part of the process.

I’m a planner. I like knowing what I’m working towards years in advance. I mentioned this to my husband recently. I wasn’t sure what direction to take my career and he simply said: “This is a great opportunity. What are you so worried about? Talk to people. Be open to new things.”

What I’m doing instead:

Documenting the messy middle—sharing what I learn from conversations, being honest about testing different directions, positioning exploration as deliberate strategy rather than evidence I don’t know what I’m doing. Transparency beats performance. Always.

What Success Actually Looks Like

Not revenue. Not products. Not perfect positioning.

Success in 2026 is 52 weeks of showing up, 80-100 engaged subscribers, and a clear decision about what to build in 2027 based on real data instead of hope. That’s it. That’s the whole goal.

So what are YOU not doing in 2026? Reply and tell me—I would love to hear what you’re quitting strategically.

See you next week for Week 12—the final post of this 12-week experiment.