I’ve never sat down and formally written out how I took my entry level Aldi sales associate job and turned it into a viable income stream, but here we are.

I started working at Aldi in the winter of 2017. I had graduated from Calvin University the previous spring and I was living with four of my friends and spinning my wheels. I was unemployed, but I thought I was justified in it, as two other housemates were also unemployed. I was proud and holding out for a “real job” that I felt entitled to after earning my degree in Strategic Communications. In the meantime, I was fine to continue shooting weddings. Or so I thought. Being surrounded my friends with no responsibilities in sight lead to much merriment, but it also lead to bills coming due with few options as to how to pay them.

My sister finally sat me down and said, “You need to get a job. Doing anything. You need to have a schedule that you aren’t making. Aldi is hiring. Do it.”

So I did it.

The first three months were the hardest. ALDI is famously efficient and fast, but it comes at a price. All information like produce codes must be memorized, never referenced. If you have to wonder about how to handle a situation, you’ve waited too long. No, your back isn’t hurting; keep going. The store opens in 30 minutes, so you better stock faster. It was a whirlwind. Two weeks in, they make you drive to the headquarters of your division and attend a “welcome day.” It felt a bit like college orientation all over again: team building activities, seminars, and glowing testimonials from other employees. The only thing that stood out to me was the District Managers. In ALDI slang, the DMs. They oversaw operations at three to five stores; they handled hiring, firing, profit, and more. They also had a shiny new company Audi, iPhone, and six-figure salary to show for it. They were a panel of business professional Ken and Barbies. The orientation board of this “college orientation.”

Yet they were clearly my age. They weren’t so unlike me, right? They had business degrees, three outfits worth of Banana Republic merchandise, and a dream. That was what I wanted too, right? So I left Welcome Day and returned to my store to ask my DM Jenna about the possibility of my applying for a district manager position. She gave me an ounce of hope, so I pressed onwards. I needed more experience? I’ll work as an associate for a whole year. Oh, you meant I needed leadership experience? Shift manager, here I come. Oh, I need that leadership experience at a store full of strangers? I’ll drive 45 minutes to a different store each morning at 4 AM. For a year. Three interviews and three years after my initial inquiry, I got a final interview! This was it. “Oh, communications? That’s not really… business experience. Sorry!”

I was devastated and angry. After sinking three years into retail, almost no desk jobs wanted to take a chance on a candidate like me. So I kept my head down and resolved to stick it out until the right opportunity came along. Well, something came along. It was COVID-19. Suddenly as a newly minted Assistant Store Manager, I was piloting a store through “unprecedented times.” I was hiring dozens of temporary workers to wipe carts, confronting protesters and anti-maskers while trying to keep my customers safe, watching the skin on my knuckles crack and peel off with so much hand sanitizer, obtaining government permission to be able to drive to work; my entire identity was consumed by ALDI.

Yet, my DM and my store manager insisted upon growth. The ALDI mindset is one of relentless productivity and improvement. Any and all metrics are judged and timed. Part of my job was reviewing cashier speed metrics with employees before allowing them to go home. “It looks like you rang only 56 items per minute this shift; we really need you over 60 items per minute.” I knew I was struggling, so I knew my employees were too. I was just thrilled they were healthy enough to come into work and willing to do the job; I wasn’t about to berate them for slightly sub-standard speeds. Still, my superiors insisted upon this all-or-nothing leadership approach. I was supposed to be a boss and—if it was necessary—an antagonist for my employees. It crushed my soul every day.

Then, I came across TikTok. Rather, I came across the idea of putting myself on TikTok. I was no stranger to the internet; my senior year of high school I vlogged each day and posted it on YouTube. So what harm could TikTok do? I started with some small trends, with less than satisfactory results. Then, I filmed myself trying some food in the grimy breakroom at ALDI; 3,000 views. Okay, we may have something here. A few more videos, a lot more views, and then came the video that changed everything. “So I saw this pineapple wine all over Facebook, and I decided to try it today after I finished my shift at ALDI…” My silly taste test of a dirt cheap fruit wine took off.

I remember being in the backroom the next day, and my watch was vibrating endlessly. I thought I was receiving a call. Nope, it was notification after notification of follows, comments, duets, and more. Within minutes I had to silence TikTok notifications. Within a day the video hit a million views. Within a week it was at 5 million. My follower count jumped from a few thousand to close to 300,000 people. Suddenly I had brands messaging me for collaborations. I had customers stopping me in the store for a picture with “The ALDI guy.” I ate it up. This was the validation and encouragement I didn’t get from my bosses.

A few weeks went by and suddenly the same Director of Operations I had my final interview with was asking to meet with me in the office. They must have seen my videos and they want to offer me a marketing job! This is it! “We saw your videos and we are concerned this is a breach of employee conduct and privacy agreements you signed when you started working here.” They did acknowledge I was the first instance of this happening, so they were a bit unsure on how to proceed. They deliberated and landed on any videos that I’d taken in the store needed to be removed, immediately. Once again, everything came crashing down. I couldn’t fight this behemoth of a company. I was tired, so I did it. I removed the videos and informed my followers that I was instructed to cease and desist.

Well, my followers did the work for me. They left comments on their customer satisfaction surveys, they messaged ALDI’s social accounts, and they mentioned me to staff at their stores across the country. A week went by, and lo and behold, I was summoned to another meeting. The tone shift was astonishing; they sheepishly asked me to continue this “free promotion” on the grounds that I just don’t film anything customers wouldn’t be able to see. Fair enough.

I took their approval and ran with it for almost another year at ALDI. I churned out video after video, until the time finally came when another company saw value in my skills and offered to take me on full time. A desk job. A salary! I couldn’t say no, no matter how large my following had grown. So I closed the door on ALDI after four years. It taught me a lot; I learned how strong I am, what kind of leader I like to be. I learned how to make decisions, how to own my mistakes, and how to confidently approach any situation, no matter if I have it figured out or not.

Since leaving, my ALDI content has slumped and engagement on my posts has notably dwindled. Nothing that I wasn’t expecting. I still occasionally have a video blow up, but my opportunities to create ALDI content are fewer and farther between. Besides, “as a former ALDI manager” has less ring to it than “as an ALDI manager.” Throughout the experience, I learned the incredible value of a video. You don’t need 4k cameras, lights, or mics to sell out a product nationwide. Just some honesty and an iPhone. I learned all about content partnerships with big brands. I learned how to manage and engage an audience, and I learned the real endeavor it is to post routine, consistent content on top of working full time.

I’ve tried to take those lessons with me into my current job and remind myself that it was just that one video that changed everything. If I can do it for myself, I can do it for my clients and my career. And I have.