Why 65,000 people per month are searching for exactly what you already know how to teach (but aren't charging for)

When you’re ready for a system

If your brain is buzzing with ideas and also quietly whispering, "How the hell am I supposed to keep track of all this?" — you’re not alone.

This is exactly why the Digital Products collection in Sabrina’s Shopify shop exists: to give ADHD entrepreneurs ready-made, brain-friendly systems so you’re not building everything from scratch on three hours of sleep and vibes.

These digital tools are designed to:

• Work with your ADHD patterns instead of shaming you for them.

• Help you organize launches, content, and client work in places like ClickUp and Notion without needing a degree in "ops."

• Reduce decision fatigue by giving you templates, structures, and prompts that already make sense for beautifully chaotic brains.

You bring the hard-won expertise and the chaos.

Let your systems—built by someone who gets it—hold the rest.

When you’re ready to turn "people keep asking me this" into "I actually get paid for this now," go browse the Digital Products collection and pick the tools that help you give your knowledge a home, a price tag, and a much calmer nervous system.

9. Tiny next steps so this doesn’t stay a feel-good theory

Reading about this is cute. But let’s make sure Future You gets paid.

Here’s a low-pressure, ADHD-friendly sequence to get moving:

Brain-dump your repeat questions.

Open a new ClickUp task or Notion page called "Things People Keep Asking Me" and list every question you can remember.

Circle the one that feels lightest.

Not the most "strategic"—the one that makes you think, "Oh, I could talk about that for 30 minutes in my sleep."

Choose a format with the least friction.

Live workshop, tiny digital template, or 1:1 intensive—pick the one your current energy can handle.

Write a one-sentence promise.

"In [time frame], you’ll go from [messy starting point] to [clear, specific outcome]."

Tell three humans.

Post it, email it, or DM it to three people who have asked you about this before. No funnel, no fireworks. Just: "Hey, I’m running/creating this. Want in?"

And yes, you’re allowed to start small. Tiny offers count. Money is money; proof of concept is proof of concept.

8. Handling the brain gremlins when you actually start charging

The minute you put a price on something, your internal committee of goblins may file the following complaints:

• "Who do you think you are?"

• "There are already people teaching this."

• "You’re scamming people if it’s not perfect."

Let’s respond like the slightly unhinged but loving CEO you actually are.

"Who do you think you are?"

Answer: Someone who has done the thing, failed at it, figured out a better way, and is willing to save other people some pain.

"There are already people teaching this."

Good. That means:

• There is already a market.

• People are already paying.

• You don’t have to convince anyone the problem exists—just show how your approach is different (ADHD-friendly, gentler, less shame-y, more human).

"You’re scamming people if it’s not perfect."

Perfection is not the price of admission.

• Be honest about what your offer does and doesn’t cover.

• Give clear expectations and examples.

• Improve over time based on feedback.

Clean ethics + clear communication ≠ scam. It equals growth.

7. Pricing without spiraling into "I’m a fraud" territory

Okay, money. Deep breath.

ADHD brains often treat pricing like a morality test instead of what it actually is: a number attached to a specific outcome.

Here’s how to approach it without melting:

Anchor to the value, not your feelings

Ask:

• How much time, energy, and confusion does this save someone?

• What’s the cost of them staying stuck? (Lost clients, endless DIY, constant shame loops.)

• What would you have paid back when you were desperately googling this?

Start with a range, not a single sacred number

Instead of agonizing over whether it should be $47 or $57 or $63.99:

• Pick a range that feels plausible (e.g., $47–$97 for a workshop, more for 1:1 work).

• Start at the lower end to gather confidence and testimonials.

• Raise over time as you refine and realize you were wildly undercharging.

Use scripts to survive the "how much is it?" moment

Write down responses in advance so your mouth doesn’t panic-discount:

• "This live workshop is $67. You’ll walk away with [clear outcome], plus the replay and a template you can reuse."

• "My 90-minute intensive is $297. We’ll build your system together on the call so you’re not left alone to figure it out."

Practice saying it out loud to your wall until it feels less like a crime.

6. Make the process ADHD-friendly (for you and them)

If the path to buying from you feels like a side quest in a badly designed video game, your future customers will bounce—and so will your brain.

Here’s how to keep it simple:

Use tools that reduce friction, not increase it

Set yourself up in a way that respects limited executive function:

• ClickUp or Notion to hold your ideas, offers, and repeatable steps so you’re not reinventing the wheel every time.

• Canva for done-once, re-used-forever slide decks, social graphics, and workbooks.

• Google Calendar for blocking tiny pockets of time to work on your offer instead of waiting for the mythical "free day."

• ManyChat or email automations only when you’re ready for them—don’t build a robot army before you have one simple product.

Build in “good-enough” checkpoints

Instead of aiming for perfect:

• Decide what MVP (minimum viable product) looks like for your offer.

• Promise yourself you’ll ship once those criteria are met.

• Make a tiny checklist in ClickUp called "Good Enough To Sell" so you can literally check it off.

Respect your energy cycles

ADHD energy is… a mystery. Some days you’re a dragon; some days you’re damp toast.

So:

• Use high-energy days for creative bursts: recording, outlining, building.

• Use low-energy days for tiny admin tasks: updating links, tweaking copy, answering FAQs.

• Design your offer so it doesn’t require you to be at peak performance 24/7.

5. Turn that knowledge into something people can actually buy

Please repeat after me:

"I do not need a 47-lesson cinematic course to be allowed to charge money."

What you need is a small, clear, outcome-focused offer that takes someone from "lost" to "functional" as gently as possible.

Here are ADHD-friendly ways to package what you know:

1. A live workshop (aka "I’ll walk you through it in real time")

• 60–90 minutes on Zoom.

• You teach your specific method (e.g., "Set up an ADHD-friendly ClickUp in one afternoon" or "How to make Canva graphics in 10 minutes instead of 2 hours").

• Include a simple workbook or checklist.

• Record it. Replays can become a digital product later.

2. A tiny digital product

Think: small, digestible, immediately useful.

• A Notion or ClickUp template with a walkthrough.

• A mini email course delivered over 5–7 days.

• A Canva template pack with instructions for ADHD brains ("Here’s exactly what to change and what to leave alone").

The key: one clear promise, not "fix your entire life."

3. A short 1:1 intensive

For people who want hand-holding:

• 60–120 minutes together.

• You co-build their system or process while sharing your screen.

• They leave with something done, not homework and vibes.

You can keep this very simple in tools you likely already use: ClickUp for task tracking, Calendly for booking, Stripe/PayPal for payments, and a Google Doc with your call outline.

4. How to figure out what you already know how to teach

If your brain just said, "Cool concept, but I don’t actually have anything people want," I invite you to notice that this is exactly what every underpaid genius says before they accidentally start a six-figure business.

Let’s pull your existing expertise out of your head and into the light.

Start with repeat questions

Look at:

• Your DMs and emails.

• Client onboarding calls.

• Slack/Discord/WhatsApp messages.

• Voice notes from friends and collaborators.

What are people constantly asking you?

• "How did you set up your ClickUp so it’s not overwhelming?"

• "Wait, how did you make that Canva graphic look so clean so fast?"

• "Can you show me your Notion dashboard?"

• "How do you keep track of launches / client work / kid stuff without forgetting everything?"

Where there are repeat questions, there is demand.

List your “messy but it works” systems

Ask yourself:

• What do you do differently from "normal" people that secretly works?

• Where have you cobbled together a workflow (in ClickUp, Notion, Google Calendar, ManyChat, whatever) that finally feels like "Oh thank god" instead of "If I have to open this one more time, I’ll evaporate"?

That is teachable.

Notice where you’re weirdly fast

ADHD hyperfocus + pattern recognition can mean you:

• See connections in tools and workflows that others don’t.

• Can "just see" the simplest path through chaos.

• Build templates, dashboards, or automations for fun.

If you can do something in 20 minutes that takes others 3 hours + tears, that’s a skill. Skills are sellable.

3. What “65,000 searches per month” actually means (in real humans)

SEO people love throwing around numbers like 65,000 searches per month like they’re talking about jellybeans. Let’s translate that into something your ADHD brain can actually feel.

Imagine:

• A packed stadium of 65,000 people.

• Every single one holding up a sign that says "Please, for the love of dopamine, show me how to do this thing without losing my mind."

That’s the scale we’re talking about.

Now ask yourself:

• How many of those people would feel instantly more relaxed hearing your version of the solution—your visuals, your metaphors, your "listen, I tried the Perfect Way™ and it broke my soul, so here’s the messy way that actually works"?

• How many are ADHD, autistic, sensitive, burned-out, or just done with being yelled at by hustle culture bros who wake up at 4 a.m. for fun?

Even if you connect deeply with 0.01% of that audience, that’s still 6.5 people per month who would happily pay to skip the confused, shame-sprinkled DIY phase.

Your job is not to "capture the entire market." Your job is to:

• Name the problem clearly.

• Offer a small, focused way through it.

• Make it easy for the right people to say "take my money" instead of "can I pick your brain?"

2. Why ADHD brains give away premium knowledge for free

If you’ve ever:

• Discounted your rate mid-sentence.

• Added "…if that even helps" after saying something brilliant.

• Turned a paid offer into a free "quick Loom" because you panicked about charging…

…you’re in good (over-caffeinated, under-rested) company.

Here’s why ADHDers chronically undercharge or don’t charge at all for what they know:

1. Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria (RSD)

• Your brain: "If I ask for money and they say no, that’s not a simple no, that’s the universe confirming I am a useless potato."

• Solution: You preemptively price things at zero to avoid the imaginary stab wound.

1. Time blindness around how long it took to learn this

• You remember figuring it out in one chaotic sprint, not the months or years of tries, failures, and late-night YouTube rabbit holes that led there. So you tell yourself, "It only takes 20 minutes." Cool. Twenty minutes for them… after years for you.

1. All-or-nothing thinking

• If you can’t build a full-scale, custom, 27-module course with cinematic B-roll, you decide you’re "not ready" to sell anything. Instead of creating a tiny, specific offer, you create exactly zero offers.

1. Moral guilt about charging for something that feels easy (to you)

• Once your brain finally clicks a system into place (ClickUp, Notion, Canva workflows, automations, whatever), it can start to feel obvious. You forget how it felt when you were crying into your keyboard.

The result: you become a free, on-demand consultant while your bank account cosplays as a cautionary tale.

1. Yes, you’re allowed to be the expert (even if your brain is chaos)

Let’s address the ADHD elephant in the room: every time someone hints that you might be an expert, your brain replies with:

"Lol, I googled this once and brute-forced my way through it at 2 a.m. while eating cereal out of the box. That doesn’t count."

But here’s the thing:

• The internet does not care how pretty your process looked.

• It only cares whether you can get someone from "I’m stuck" to "oh, that worked".

• And you’ve already done that. Repeatedly. For friends, clients, coworkers, and whoever texted you, "Quick question" and then sent fourteen voice notes.

Expertise isn’t about never struggling. It’s about having:

• Lived through the mess.

• Found a path that works for your brain.

• Been able to explain that path in a way another frazzled human can follow.

ADHD twist: because your path doesn’t look like the shiny productivity gurus, you’ve filed it under "That doesn’t count". Meanwhile, 65,000 people a month are begging Google for exactly the shortcut you’ve already Frankensteined together.

Somewhere on the internet, right now, a very tired human is typing some version of this into a search bar:

"How do I [thing you’re weirdly good at] without burning out / ruining my life / throwing my laptop into the sea?"

Now multiply that by 65,000.

That’s not a metaphor. Roughly that many people are Googling for some version of what you already know how to do every single month. Not because you’re secretly basic, but because you’ve accidentally built expertise around a problem most people are quietly drowning in.

If you’re an ADHD entrepreneur or creator, there’s a decent chance you:

• Are the unofficial tech support / systems whisperer / Canva wizard / Notion nerd / “how do you do that?” friend.

• Have already walked someone through this skill on Zoom. For free. Multiple times.

• Have a five-sentence “oh it’s actually really simple, you just…” explanation that causes people to stare at you like you’ve told them the Wi-Fi password to life.

And yet… you’re not charging for it. You might not even see it as something worth charging for.

Let’s fix that.