The 5 Stages of Amazon Grief (And Why I'm Still Trying to Let Go)
Seven months ago, I wrote my first-ever post on LinkedIn about how Amazon was slowly squeezing the life out of small brands. Mark Cuban reshared it. It got 128 reactions, 78 comments, and 9 reposts.
I said — “Amazon doesn’t reward integrity. It rewards manipulation.”
He said — “Amazon’s fees are insane and unsustainable.”
The post resonated.
But Amazon didn’t flinch.
And for small U.S. sellers like us, things have only gotten worse.
From Boutique Shelves to Amazon's Belly
Kishu Baby began quietly — in our tiny 1-bedroom apartment in Los Angeles, shortly after our son Caden was born.
My wife Emi started sewing in those early days of motherhood. She designed a clever, 4-way reversible muslin bib inspired by traditional Japanese textiles. Every time she went out with Caden, people would stop to ask where she got it.
So she started selling on Etsy.
Then one day, Emi nervously walked into a boutique in Marina del Rey with one of her handmade samples and asked if they’d consider carrying it.
“You’re going to fly away,” the store manager said.
That moment lit a spark. A few years later — in 2015 — we officially formed Kishu Baby, LLC.
We landed a top LA sales rep. Kishu Baby was stocked in boutiques across SoCal. We were trying to build a brand — slowly, with care, the old-fashioned way.
Then COVID hit. Retail paused. The world shifted toward Amazon — and so did we. We went all-in.
At first, it worked. Our listings were solid. Ads were converting. Reviews were strong.
I remember walking with my daughter in a baby carrier, whistling, the day we hit $1,500 in daily sales.
“We did it,” I thought.
But we hadn’t.
What Looked Like Growth Was Actually Erosion
At our peak, we were doing over $700,000/year in revenue on Amazon — all while juggling this business nights and weekends.
One of the biggest problems?
Amazon makes it nearly impossible to see the full picture.
To understand whether you're actually profitable, you have to pull 7+ different reports across three dashboards — Campaign Manager, Brand Analytics, and Business Reports.
That’s why I started using MyRealProfit. Demian built something genuinely great — clean, clear, brutally honest. It’s one of the only tools that actually makes Amazon math make sense. If you're in the space, I highly recommend it (and no, I’m not an affiliate — just grateful it exists).
But once you do see the numbers clearly, it hits you:
We weren’t building equity.
We were feeding the machine.
The Slow Betrayal
We joined Amazon in 2015.
It helped us grow.
But over time, the platform we thought was saving us revealed its true face.
Not a partner.
Not a marketplace.
A predator.
It didn’t happen all at once.
It happened gradually, through a thousand paper cuts:
- FBA fee hikes
- Storage surcharges
- Inbound placement fees
- You eat the cost of nearly every return — no matter the condition
- Pay-to-play visibility
- Constant pressure to spend more just to stay relevant
- Tariffs on Indian goods (where we ethically source — and yes, that’s not Amazon’s fault)
And while we were cutting out plastic bags, getting GOTS and Fairtrade certified, embracing minimal packaging and slower, more ethical growth…
Amazon was quietly boosting sellers who did the opposite:
- Photoshopping muslin bibs onto stock photos of American-looking babies to imply authenticity (now they have AI to make it seamless)
- Duplicate listings to game the algorithm
- Fake reviews in bulk
- Click-farm manipulation
- Factory-direct pricing with artificially low margins
- As if their price being one-third of ours wasn’t enough — they played a game of aggressive manipulation, and Amazon let them. Not because it was ethical — but because it was effective.
Many of these were Chinese sellers, using tactics that would get brands suspended overnight. But I don’t blame them. In many ways, that’s how competition works in their market.
This isn’t about morality.
It’s about incentives — and Amazon built the rules.
And now, here’s the real twist:
Amazon’s not just cutting out small U.S. brands.
They’re starting to cut out the Chinese middlemen, too.
Factories are being pulled in directly.
Private label aggregators are drying up.
Amazon’s loyalty isn’t to sellers.
It’s to shareholders — and vertical control.
If you think you're safe because you're playing by Amazon’s rules today —
you won’t be tomorrow.
The Real Journey Wasn’t a Funnel. It Was Grief.
Amazon consultants love to talk about “the full funnel.”
Awareness → Consideration → Purchase → Loyalty → Advocacy.
But the real path we experienced wasn’t a funnel. It was a funeral.
Here’s what it actually looked like:
1. Denial
It's just a dip. I just need to optimize the ads. Launch a new SKU. Improve the listing.
We kept believing success was just one tweak away.
But behind the scenes, we were already bleeding.
2. Anger
We did everything right. Why are we being punished?
We watched Konssy rise (a Chinese powerhouse seller who cheated the system).
We watched our margins shrink.
We watched Amazon shrug.
3. Bargaining
Let’s differentiate. Let’s go greener. Certify the fabric. Redesign the packaging. Retool the campaign. Try again. Not to greenwash — but because it felt like the right thing to do.
We sourced GOTS organic cotton.
We pursued Fairtrade certification to minimize human rights abuses.
We eliminated plastic bags from our packaging.
It felt like we could kill two birds with one stone — stand out from the copycats and build a business that aligned with our values. (Terrible phrase, honestly. Who throws stones at birds? Maybe Jeff Bezos.)
4. Depression
$700K/year in sales. Nights and weekends. And still we’re barely breaking even.
Even with all the data and strategy, the system felt like quicksand.
We started questioning ourselves:
“Is it just me?”
“Am I doing something wrong?”
5. Acceptance
We gave it everything.
And now it’s time to let go.
That’s where I am now.
We’re selling through inventory.
We’re not scaling. We’re not optimizing.
We’re done — and yes, I’m bitter.
Bitter because we believed in this.
Because we built something people loved.
Because we paid our dues — and still got pummeled.
And I’ll be honest:
If I hear one more “How to Win on Amazon” webinar say:
“Let’s add all this value up…”
“Not $5,000… not $3,000… but just $1,995 — today only…”
— I might throw my laptop.
So let’s actually add our value up:
- 10 years of building
- Nights and weekends
- $700K/year in revenue
- GOTS and Fairtrade certified
- Ethical sourcing from India
- Thousands of real five-star reviews
Now what if I told you…
even that wasn’t enough to survive?
Because it wasn’t.
And no — this isn’t a swipe at the real experts.
Some of the people I’ve learned from and genuinely respect are doing great work:
EcomCrew, Mina Elias, Ritu Java, Dr. Travis Zigler, Brian R Johnson, Steven Pope, Kevin King, Kevin Sanderson, Adam Runquist, Jon Derkits, Bradley Sutton, Demian Lazurko and many others.
This post isn’t about them. It’s about the system we’ve all been forced to play in.
The system isn’t broken.
The system is working exactly as intended.
And if you feel like you’re losing your mind inside it — you’re not. You’re just waking up.
And Why I'm Still Trying to Let Go
Letting go of this business hasn’t been easy.
It’s not just a product line. It’s ten years of nights, weekends, webinars, picking and packing, customer emails, late-night label runs, product photos, new certifications, and holiday rushes.
It’s a dream I shared with my wife — who, if I’m honest, sometimes wishes she never walked into that boutique.
I say that with a heavy heart.
Because our relationship has taken a real hit. Not just from the business itself, but from me holding on too long.
Believing the exit was just around the corner. Telling myself that if I just pushed harder, it would all pay off.
And I have to own that.
She’s carried a lot. And while I still believe in what we built — I also understand why she’s angry about how it's ending.
That’s a part of this story that rarely gets spoken.
What happens next?
I don’t exactly know.
I still love building.
I still love helping good people outsmart lazy competitors.
And if the right opportunity comes along, I’m open.
I should also say this:
Amazon is a necessary evil.
Even Nike crawled back on hands and knees after trying to make it without them.
Forget about profitability — you need Amazon because that’s where America shops.
But the real brands?
They also invest in a strong off-Amazon presence.
They build community. Loyalty. Connection.
We did try (oh how we tried), but we were never able to do that. That’s the hard way.
Amazon was the path of least resistance for us — when I was still working a full-time job and trying to build this on nights and weekends.
I don’t regret trying.
But I do regret how long I stayed.
For now, I’m just trying to let go.
And if you are too — I hope this helped you feel a little less alone.
—
Ken
Co-Owner, Kishu Baby
