I’m not from a rich family.

My dad was one of three brothers to a single mum in one of the poorest areas of England.

My mum grew up in one of the toughest places in Northern Ireland (bogside Derry—where ‘bloody sunday’ happened).

We’ve done well, but the scarcity mindset runs deep.

When I was younger, I would never spend money.

At University I’d wear shoes until my toes poked out.

But I didn’t realise I had an unhealthy relationship with money until I became an entrepreneur.

Building a business was a wake up call:

Money is infinite. Time is not.

If you don’t fix your relationship with money, it will ruin you.

My business only took off when I realised money was energy.

It’s not something to hoard but something to spread.

I learned this after embracing a framework that changed my life:

Naval Ravikant’s Aspirational Hourly Rate

Naval says:

No one is going to value you more than you value you. Set a high personal hourly rate, and stick to it…Say you buy something from Amazon and they screw it up. Is it worth your time to return it? Is it worth the mental hassle? Keep in mind that you will have less time for work, including mentally high-output work. Do you want to use that time running errands and solving little problems? Or do you want to save it for the big stuff?

When you have no personal hourly rate, you have no reason to say no.

This lack of boundary traps you in low leverage opportunities.

You end up busy going nowhere.

These days, I run every time-based decision through it (unless I’m doing something out of joy—you can’t be on the clock 24/7).

For example, I made a booking at a restaurant on the weekend.

Last minute, I couldn’t make it. It’s a £25 fee. Old Kieran would’ve called to argue for a refund.

But that’s 10 minutes of my time and mental energy.

My ‘aspirational hourly rate’ is $1,000.

So I took the hit with zero consideration. And whilst this is just a small example, this time adds up.

The rule:

If something saves you time, it’s worth the dime.

But if you’re like me, you can’t just click your finger and fix your relationship with money.

Instead, begin gradually.

For example, I first embraced Naval’s idea when I was an early writer.

It was May 2022. I’d just sold my first high ticket offer.

$500 for 10 hours of calls, plus content critiques. I could’ve made more money flipped burgers. But I didn’t care.

The point was momentum, not money.

And it beat staring in mouths all day.

When my client told me how good the experience was, I decided my hourly rate was $100.

Then $250.

Then $500.

After a year or so, I said $1,000.

If anything, I’m now thinking ‘too small’ as a7 figure entrepreneur. It should be to $2,000. But I’ll need a tonne of therapy for that.

Here’s the best part:

By picking a future number, you drag it into reality.

You say no to ‘good’ opportunities, which creates space for great ones.

I remember when I increased my consulting calls from $350 to $700, I was terrified no one would pay.

Instead?

Better customers. And more time in the diary to work on bigger projects.

Have you decided how much your time is worth?

What would happen if you increased it by 20%?

Food for thought,

Kieran