Half A Year Of Being A ‘YouTuber’ - But Is It Worth The Struggle?

Just over half a year ago, I made a pretty life-changing decision which, at the time, I felt like I’d been putting off for what felt like a decade, and probably was.

If you ask anyone of a certain age why they wanted to become a YouTuber, or work in the automotive media space, chances are you’ll receive a similar response every time. It’ll inevitably involve TopGear, a lifelong obsession with cars, and the desire to share said obsession with anyone who’ll listen. I’m not about to sit here and write that I don’t follow that template, I do. However, for me, it arguably always felt like more than that. Through primary school, teachers used to compare me to a replica of the tall and shouty man off the telly, and with the way I’m coded as a person, I realised that effectively becoming some sort of a Clarkson impersonator was a good way of masking what I, at the time, felt was an otherwise pretty dull personality. I lived and breathed Clarkson, to a point that if he knew, I’d have probably received some sort of restraining order through the post.

The problem is, when your age is in the single digits, that’s acceptable. However, as you find yourself transitioning into your teenage years, people tend to find it a bit, well, strange - especially so when you consider that, in an education environment, I wasn’t exactly surrounded by fellow car enthusiasts. The thing is though, is that it never really leaves you. Even today, I can’t shake certain mannerisms, tones, and an overall scent of that mid-2000s automotive presenting style. People have commented from time to time that I could be putting it on, but in fact, the problem is quite the opposite - it’s now so ingrained into me as a person, that it’s not something I can put off.

With that in mind, at various points, I considered using this blessing, or curse, depending on how you look at it, for something more than simply selling cars. I’m not going to say for a moment that I didn’t enjoy my years in the motor trade, which technically started all the way back in 2016, but I just always felt like I wanted to try and achieve something more.

And yet, I kept putting it off.

In 2020, while COVID-19 raged on, I tried my hand at putting a few videos together, but could never find any joy in the editing side, which is important when you want to actually make a piece of content that people will watch for more than about 26 seconds. After just three uploads, it was put to the back of my mind once again, with no idea when I’d get around to doing something else. But then 2022 came, during which I found myself being asked to help with some camera car work for a large YouTube channel. All of a sudden, I was thrown into the background of the modern world of automotive media, where YouTube had become the default place to go for those wanting their car-related fill, rather than simply watching re-runs on Dave. Over the next two years, I transitioned from just being behind the camera, to sporadic appearances in front of it, and then a full time job at said channel, where I re-discovered the love for presenting, and putting myself out there, in front of viewers who often shared the same love as me.

Still, however, I longed for more. I wanted to decide on my own content, put the ideas I had in my head into visual form, and build my own legacy - or at least try to, because the recurring theme you’ll find is that I have absolutely no confidence in my own abilities, or own potential success.

So, back in January of this year, I made what came as quite a sudden decision to many. I handed my notice in, having not really made any specific plans as to how I was going to achieve this dream, because I knew I simply had to put myself into a sink-or-swim position with the whole affair.

Just two weeks later, we filmed the first video, on my 2003 Ex-Cheshire Police Range Rover, and released it in February for anyone who was bored enough to watch. I knew that the first video would have some sort of ‘buzz’ around it, I’d had dreams of seeing maybe 10,000 views on it - so when it ticked over 50k, just a few days after upload, you can probably imagine my glee.

Obviously, I knew that things would fall off - but in just the first couple of months of uploads, we managed to exceed my targets in terms of overall views and subscribers - probably a testament to my lack of self-confidence in the matter. Feedback was brilliant, the numbers looked good, and somehow, we managed to even start taking occasional sponsorships, which are key to the survival of a channel and being able to keep future content funded. From an external perspective, it has probably looked to many like things have come easily, and there’s been little to struggle with.

That, however, is not entirely the case.

While the statistics look good, nothing could have prepared me for the stress involved in becoming a regular part of the content machine that you have to effectively submit yourself to when launching a channel. Uploads cannot happen late. Content has to be consistent, and of a quality that doesn’t lead to people simply ‘giving up’ on watching you. And above all that? When you’ve gotten used to going to work every day, with people that you consider to be very good friends, and suddenly pull yourself out of that - it can become bloody lonely. Aside from the occasional few days of filming, I found myself so focused on trying to make the channel work, on sending off countless emails to prospective sponsors, and on the self-criticising of every video, that I sort of stopped being social.

Luckily, one of the by-products of doing the whole YouTube thing, is that when the Spring and Summer come, so do the invites to events, shows, cars and coffee gatherings and more. Something which I had actually assumed wouldn’t come until much, much further along the line. This was probably helped by my previous employment, I can’t deny that, but my goodness - it was needed. Suddenly being able to go back out, see people, and engage directly with the audience that, during the colder months, had begun to watch, and enjoy, the content we were putting out, was an absolute blessing.

And that brings me nicely on to what really makes going into YouTube worth it. Sure, making a living off what you love is the dream for everyone. But there is no feeling that quite compares to the warmth I get from being able to talk to fans of the channel, people who give up their precious time to watch me mucking about with BCA buckets, taking an old Peugeot stuck in limp mode all the way to Cornwall, and failing to do a lap of the Nürburgring in a £500 Alfa Romeo. It is a genuine honour to be able to listen to some of the stories that people feel comfortable enough to tell me, as well, as there have been plenty of those. This is what really, really makes it all worth it. The last minute edits, the breakdowns, the current situation surrounding trying to store ten different cars, everything.

So, I can’t wait to see what the future holds. More silly road trips, more struggling to understand why the car sold with no reserve has stopped working so suddenly, and hopefully, more time spent engaging with the people who make it all worthwhile.