I Spent NT$500,000 on an AI Marketing System, and the Only One Who Responded Was My Baby

• A magical journey from passive income to passive meltdowns

Some people spend NT$500,000 on a car, a house, or a round-the-world ticket. But me? I’m a mom buried in diapers, trying to run ads from my phone, and I spent that money on an AI marketing system that claimed to make me money automatically.

I thought life was about to level up—but what showed up first? The bills. The system sent automated messages every day, so diligently. But the only people who ever replied were:

1. My husband (read my messages, never replied)

2. Myself (forgot to disable test mode)

3. My son’s preschool teacher (she blocked me)

• This disaster started with a little thing called "hope"

Back then, I was full of dreams, rocking my baby with one hand and scrolling my phone with the other. I saw an ad that read: "Even moms with zero experience can build a fully automated marketing system that makes NT$100,000/month!"

I clicked in, and it was full of dreamy slogans:

• "Set it up once and earn while you sleep"

• "No tech skills needed—our AI does it all!"

• "No more money stress, let tech pay for your baby’s formula!"

I almost cried—not from emotion, but because my baby pooped at that exact moment. I took a deep breath, swiped my card, and stepped into the high-tech dream.

In my mind, I imagined myself: Wearing a flowy white dress on a balcony, holding a cup of coffee, watching the sunset as my laptop chimed: "Ding—you’ve made another sale!"

In reality, I was scrubbing the floor, doing dishes, carrying a baby on my back, and trying to set up a marketing funnel.

• I became an AI intern

I bought the course and devoured everything:

1. Learned what sales funnels, CRMs, automation flows, and audience segmentation were

2. Designed triggers while mopping, tested ad pages while boiling noodles

One night at 3AM, I was holding my baby in one arm and my laptop in the other. He finally fell asleep, I was half-conscious, and then—I accidentally sent the wrong message to the preschool parent group. That night, five moms replied: "Is this a group buy?"

• My only real client was myself

I made videos, wrote copy, built automation flows. I was even editing slides in the clinic waiting room while my baby got vaccinated. I made myself look like I was running a multinational corporation. But in truth, my only client—was me.

I stared at the dashboard showing zero sales every day, then called customer support. They said, "Maybe you're just not using it seriously enough." I almost invited them to come change my baby's diaper.

• Six months, three clicks

I checked the backend conversion rates like I was checking my baby's poop—hoping something would move today. But after six whole months, there were only three clicks:

1. My husband (said "I don't get it" and went to the bathroom)

2. Myself (forgot to disable test mode)

3. My son's teacher (still blocked me)

I started to wonder if this system was made to advertise to aliens.

• NT$500,000 bought me a breakdown, but also brought me back to myself

I thought I could quit, but turns out I had signed a contract. NT$500,000, non-refundable, non-cancellable. Even if I never logged in again, it would still charge me monthly. It became the most stable relationship in my life. More consistent than my husband. More punctual than my baby’s digestive system.

Was I financially supporting a heartbroken robot with abandonment issues?

• A business dream that turned into a debt-fueled nightmare

I thought tech would save my life, but it only turned me from a mom into a digital slave. Until one late night, I had another meltdown. My baby suddenly woke up, crawled toward me, gently pushed a pacifier into my mouth, and patted me: "Mama, no cry."

I laughed. It was the first truly healing and heartwarming thing I'd heard—even without a single sale.

• The dream ended—but I didn’t

I still struggle every day between reality and responsibility. But I stopped chasing that cold AI marketing system, and chose warm, honest storytelling instead.

I began writing the things no one dares to say: The shame of business failure, the daily chaos of motherhood, and that ridiculous support rep who told me to "believe in myself."

I'm no longer pretending to run some global empire. I just want to honestly document how a mom woke up from a NT$500,000 dream—and got back up, smiling.

• Are you one of us?

If you've ever "invested in yourself" and ended up crying in frustration, If you've ever questioned your life while washing baby bottles at the kitchen sink, Then you're in the right place.

We're not failures. We're just the early adopters of emotionally intelligent meltdown marketing.

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Disclaimer:

This story is based on my real-life experience as a mom navigating the ups and downs of entrepreneurship.

The illustrations and parts of the writing were created with the help of AI tools,

but every emotion, every meltdown, and every laugh in this piece is 100% mine.