(00:50) Darren:
On this episode of the Engaging Marketeer Podcast, I am joined by Maiia Zlotnikova, who is from Ukraine and is over in the UK as a student. She’s also in marketing and does copywriting for clients.
So Maiia, what made you want to leave Ukraine and come to the UK—if that’s not an obviously stupid question?
Maiia:
I first decided to leave Ukraine when the war started, but I didn’t have the opportunity to leave because I had just started my university degree in Ukraine. I initially decided to study international relations. However, after a year of studying at one of the best universities in Ukraine, I thought, this is not for me. I don’t see myself as a diplomat or someone with a very serious job working with politicians.
My other passion was health and fitness, so the obvious choice was sports and science. I’ve always wanted to live in England—ever since I can remember. I went to a British school, all my teachers were from here. I felt like I was part of the culture before I even moved here. So the choice was obvious.
(02:10) Darren:
So when the war started, how old were you?
Maiia:
I was 16.
Darren:
What was it like as a child, effectively, with something like that happening?
Maiia:
It was incredibly difficult. My entire life crumbled. Before the war began, I was a figure skater. I had two practices a day. It was my entire life. I lived in Kyiv, the capital of Ukraine.
I remember the morning when the war started. I woke up at 5 a.m. to a woman who worked in our house. She was knocking on my door, my dad’s door, and my dad’s wife’s door, screaming “It started! It started!”
I couldn’t understand what she meant. I looked at my phone, started googling—nothing. Switched on the radio—nothing. I thought she had a terrible dream. This can’t be real. I got out of bed, knocked on my dad’s door and asked, “Is everything okay? This must be a mistake, right?”
He said, “Oh, don’t worry, go back to sleep.” It was around 4:45 a.m. And the moment I closed the door to my dad’s bedroom, a huge sound wave hit our house. A painting fell from the wall. A missile had landed about four kilometers away.
It felt like I was standing next to a speaker at a rock concert—vibration in your chest. That’s what it felt like.
(04:27) Darren:
That must have been pretty terrifying.
Maiia:
Yes. We stayed in the house for three days. But then Russian troops were too close to Kyiv, so we left and went to the Carpathian Mountains. We were hiding there. We were lucky—we stayed in a cottage in the middle of nowhere.
Most people weren’t as lucky. They had to leave their homes, sleep on floors in schools and hospitals, and live there for months.
(05:08) Darren:
So when you were in the mountains, were you basically camping, sleeping outside? Or did you have somewhere to stay?
Maiia:
It was a tiny house in the middle of nowhere. We had to drive 60 minutes to get to the nearest grocery store or petrol station.
Darren:
And how long were you up there?
Maiia:
About two months. Then, three months after the invasion started, we went back to Kyiv.
Darren:
Was it safe for you to do that?
Maiia:
No. It’s not safe even now. But at the time, we couldn’t imagine moving to another country. My dad is an entrepreneur—his business is in the middle of the war zone, and he’s the only one managing it. He went back even before we did—just two weeks after we left.
On his drive back, he saw tanks, people shot in their cars… it was all still there.
(07:12) Darren:
It’s strange imagining something like that somewhere you lived and grew up. Allan—who you met upstairs—he went to Kyiv for the Champions League final a few years ago. It had the eyes of the world on it. And now… a war zone. It must be surreal.
Maiia:
Yes.
Darren:
Is that what made you want to go into politics or become a diplomat, to try and do something about it?
Maiia:
That was one of the reasons. I was probably one of the most insecure people you could imagine during my early teens. I had no control even over my own life. I was struggling with mental health and low self-worth. I thought if I became a diplomat, I could prove I was worth something.
But I had no intention of becoming a politician. It wasn’t interesting to me. But at 16, I thought—if I can get into politics and change something, maybe it’s worth trying.
(08:36) Darren:
So, you were going to university, effectively still in a war zone?
Maiia:
Yes.
Darren:
Which is difficult.
Maiia:
Yes. Some days we’d have air raid sirens at 9 a.m., right when university started, and we’d go to the bomb shelter.
The university had bomb shelters. Whenever the sirens started—everyone’s phones went off—we’d go there. People even thought it was kind of fun, because it meant skipping classes. They couldn’t make us go back after it was over because the day was finished.
Sometimes the alert lasted 20 minutes, sometimes six hours. I didn’t like my university, my degree, or anything about it. I often skipped to go to the gym or hang out with friends. I’m not proud of that, but at the time, I didn’t want to be there.
(10:31) Darren:
Universities tend to be quite multicultural. Was it like that in Kyiv?
Maiia:
My university was actually in Lviv, near the Polish border. A lot of medical students came from abroad—Nigeria, China, etc.—but they were in a different university from mine. Different buildings, different parts of the city. So I never met any of them.
Most people in my course didn’t know what they were doing there. Same as me. They just thought, “This looks kind of cool. I might be a politician.”
Darren (laughs):
Well, politicians make a lot of money in Ukraine.
Maiia:
Maybe. I’ve heard that on social media.
Darren:
I don’t know how true it is.
Maiia:
Unfortunately, it’s true.
(11:45) Darren:
There’s a lot of stuff on Twitter—terrible platform—about Ukraine’s president, Volodymyr Zelensky, saying he earns a lot of money. Do you believe that?
Maiia:
Politicians before Zelensky were definitely making money in unfair ways. But when it comes to our current president—I don’t think it’s appropriate to judge the person who has the most important role in managing this war.
I highly respect him. He’s done a remarkable job keeping our people safe and mitigating the impact of the war.
Darren:
He was a stand-up comedian originally, right?
Maiia:
Yes.
Darren:
Strange, going from comedy to politics. But as a comedian, you’d know how to speak, engage an audience, be on camera… That makes sense.
(13:46) Darren:
He gets a lot of stick on social media, especially from the U.S.—Trump and others don’t support Ukraine, say the aid isn’t going where it should. What are your thoughts?
Maiia:
I’m not the right person to comment on this. If I was still studying international relations, maybe I could give a better answer. But for now, all I can say is: I highly respect my president, and I admire every single person on the front line.
They’re saving lives every day. If they weren’t there, I wouldn’t be here. I probably would’ve died on the very first morning of the war.
Darren:
You say you didn’t give a good answer, but that’s a proper diplomat answer: “I’m not the right person to comment.” Brilliant.
(14:34) Darren:
So in terms of people leaving Ukraine—as I understand it, men aren’t currently allowed to leave unless they have special dispensation. Ukrainian football teams can leave to play games, but otherwise, is that correct?
Maiia:
Yes. Men aged 18 to 60 aren’t allowed to leave. The only exceptions are if they’re competitive athletes—like for the Olympics—or if they’re injured soldiers going abroad for recovery, like getting prosthetics.
Even from 16, I believe (I might be wrong), they can’t leave unless they’ve submitted something to the military saying they’re preparing to go to the front line. They also need to register at a medical center.
(15:56) Darren:
And I’ve got to ask—what do you think about Russia? Why is this happening? Do you think it’ll end?
Maiia:
Ukraine’s victory is inevitable.
Darren:
I like that.
Maiia:
I don’t want to comment on Russia. I don’t think it deserves a place on this podcast—or in the world, really.
(16:56) Darren:
Okay, let’s talk about something more interesting, shall we?
Maiia:
Yeah, absolutely.
Darren:
So you decided being a diplomat wasn’t for you, and you wanted to go to the UK. Was it films, television, books, history—what attracted you?
Maiia:
The history. The people. I grew up around British people because I went to a British school. That’s why I ended up here. But mostly, I wanted to be independent.
At 17, I had no idea how I’d make it happen, just that I had to. I pitched the idea to my dad. He didn’t like it at first. I had to prove it was a good idea.
It was difficult—I didn’t have the right education to study in the UK because I’d left my British school.
Darren:
Wait—you got expelled?
Maiia:
Yes. I was a nightmare student. Consistently off task. Ignored school rules.
Darren:
What did you do?
Maiia:
I’d just stand up and walk out of class or walk the corridors. If I needed the bathroom and the teacher said no, I’d go anyway and get detention. I didn’t care.
(19:03) Darren:
To be honest, I think teachers who stop kids from going to the bathroom kind of deserve that. There are worse things than walking out to pee.
So you told me that when you first got to the UK, you spent two days in Luton?
Maiia:
Yes—two days.
Darren:
And you thought, “If the rest of the UK is like this, I want to go home”?
Maiia:
No—I knew I had to make it work. I had no choice. Even living in Luton was better than going back to my previous life.
Darren:
Even better than a war zone?
Maiia:
It wasn’t just the war zone. It was my environment. I hated it. I couldn’t grow in it. I had no one I connected with. I had one person I talked to occasionally. I felt lonely.
I knew I wanted to start a business. I couldn’t be the only one in my family who was “unsuccessful.” I had to get out of that environment. That was my priority.
(20:26) Darren:
That’s remarkable. You’re in a war zone, and your main worry is not wanting to be the only one in your family who’s unsuccessful. You still put that pressure on yourself.
Maiia:
The power goes wherever you point your finger. If I blame the war or university, I give my power away.
If I say, “Everything that’s wrong in my life is because of me,” I can change it. I can’t change the war. I can’t change the university. But I can leave the country and start a new life.
When I came here, I couldn’t fly from Ukraine—airports were closed. I flew from Warsaw, Poland. I remember being on the plane, crying. I didn’t know anyone in the UK. I didn’t know where I was going. It was my first time in England. It was the definition of starting from scratch.
(21:53) Darren:
And you ended up in Luton.
Maiia (laughing):
Yeah.
Darren:
I can only apologise. So you’re in Chester now—it got better?
Maiia:
I absolutely love everything about Chester. It’s a small, friendly, student-friendly town. It’s cozy, full of history, comfortable. I don’t have to commute. I can walk everywhere. The people are awesome—so kind. I haven’t met a single unkind person here.
(23:50) Darren:
And the university itself?
Maiia:
It’s well-structured. Lecturers are kind, knowledgeable, professional. But university isn’t for me.
I don’t like being in classrooms. I think the entire curriculum could be compressed into 1.5 or 2 years instead of four.
At this point, I think it’s just a system that wants people to pay—especially international students. Unless you want to be a lawyer, doctor, or scientist, I don’t think university is worth the time or debt.
(24:34) Darren:
I think you’re right. My eldest is 23 and doing A-levels online because he didn’t get them in school. He’s paying for them. He’s doing three A-levels and racing through them.
He’s effectively done the equivalent of one A-level in three weeks, which would normally take two years. So yes, I agree, it’s all spread out, unnecessarily long, and far too expensive. But it’s worse in America.
Maiia:
The costs in America are obscene.
(25:53) Darren:
So in terms of what you’re doing now—what you want to do—it’s not what your course is about, is it? Your passions lie elsewhere. And it’s not figure skating anymore?
Maiia:
No, no.
Darren:
So what is it? What’s your passion?
Maiia:
Entrepreneurship, marketing, and copywriting.
I started with copywriting because it has an extremely low barrier to entry, which is both good and bad. Let me explain. If you’re a teenager and you Google “how to make money online,” after dropshipping and affiliate marketing, you’ll stumble across copywriting.
A lot of teenagers get into it thinking they’ll get rich overnight. They believe they’re entitled to a $2,000/month retainer after doing it for a week. That’s how I got into it—I thought I’d use it to make money and then start a real business.
When I decided I needed a business, I had $4,000 in my bank account. That’s it. I couldn’t afford dropshipping or developing products—the risk was too high. The only answer was: learn a skill, sell it, make money, and build a business around it.
I didn’t want to do web design or coding because I couldn’t see how to apply it. But copywriting—selling in written form—made sense. All successful people start in either high-ticket sales or marketing. If I could learn this skill, I could apply it to anything.
Even if I didn’t make money in the first year, I knew I couldn’t fail in the long run.
(28:05) Darren:
To be a copywriter, you need a really good grasp of English—and English isn’t your first language. How have you managed to be so fluent?
Maiia:
English was never a problem for me because of my school. When I was 10, I started at a British school. At the time, I only knew how to say “hello,” “goodbye,” “yes,” and “no.”
It was traumatic. I sat in lessons with all these kids who spoke perfect English. I couldn’t even write my name in English.
But within a year, I caught up. By my second year, I won the poetry slam at my school. I wrote a poem in English.
I loved the language so much, I’d go home and speak it to my mum.
So, in copywriting, language wasn’t the problem—especially written English, which is stronger than my spoken English because I’ve written so much.
I do use tools like Grammarly to keep grammar sharp, but I can use humor, tell stories, and capture tone. I often see people asking in forums, “Can I become a copywriter if I’m from Budapest or Moldova?” And my answer is yes—absolutely.
If you focus on yourself, you can do anything. But if you blame your country or language, you won’t make it.
(30:56) Darren:
Interesting you mention Budapest—one of our web designers is from there. When we bring new team members in, whether they’re copywriters or editors, we make them do a grammar test.
And often, their English is better than some native speakers. It’s kind of embarrassing, really.
But writing copy isn’t just about good grammar or writing essays, is it? It’s a skill in itself. How did you learn that?
Maiia:
Copywriting has nothing to do with how good of a writer you are. You could write a book and still be a terrible copywriter.
It’s like learning a new language—the language of persuasion.
In my first month, I copied famous copywriting pieces by Gary Halbert by hand every day. Not typed—by hand. That’s how I started.
But that wasn’t enough to land clients. You need to learn sales, client acquisition, and other skills.
In my second month, after practicing, I reached out to a mentor from Canada. He’d been a copywriter for five years and made $8,000/month from a single client. He posted that he was taking on three students, and I thought, “Wait, how much does this cost?”
I wasn’t sure if I should spend my money. Then I watched an Alex Hormozi video that said, “When you’re young, it’s almost impossible to waste money if you’re spending it on acquiring a skill.”
So I messaged the mentor again and said, “Take my money. I can only afford you for a month, and I’m going to work as hard as I can.”
(35:14) Maiia (continued):
And I did. I wrote 8–12 hours every single day.
I was lucky enough not to need a job during the holidays, so I could fully commit. I didn’t go out except to buy groceries once a week or go to the gym.
I’d sit in my room with nothing but my laptop. Curtains drawn. Noise-canceling earplugs in. Every meal in front of my computer. Writing all day.
The feedback I got from my mentor was invaluable. If you want to acquire any skill, not just copywriting, forget the 10 online courses. Hire a mentor for a month—it’s so much more powerful.
(36:39) Maiia (continued):
I lived in this “copywriting matrix” for a month. Because my mentor was in Canada, the time zones worked in my favor. I’d go to bed, and wake up at 5 a.m. to three Loom video reviews of all my copy, waiting in Telegram.
We also had weekly calls. That’s how I learned copywriting.
I listened to copywriting podcasts at the gym. My entire life became copywriting.
That’s the fastest way to learn — because money loves speed. If you want to start making money, if you want to get good at something, you have to outwork everyone else doing the same thing.
Most people think copywriting is writing one email a day in a swimsuit on a beach in Thailand and making $10k/month. That’s the dream they sell on YouTube. And ironically, that’s what copywriters do — they sell the dream.
(37:54) Darren:
So during that month where you were writing non-stop, what kind of stuff were you actually writing? Email newsletters?
Maiia:
No, I was looking for clients. Doing cold outreach — which, by the way, is also known as “the last man standing” game. You never know how long it’ll take. It’s painful.
My mentor helped me figure out how to do it correctly.
Instead of spamming people with “Can I write you emails for $1K/month?” — which no one responds to — I’d subscribe to their newsletter, analyze their emails, and if I saw room for improvement (like a weak call to action or low open-rate subject lines), I’d write a brand new email for them for free.
Then I’d send it and say, “This is for you. You can use it.”
If they liked it and thought it was valuable, they hired me.
But — I wouldn’t recommend this to everyone. It worked for me, but there’s a smarter way.
(39:03) Maiia (continued):
If you find a network of business owners and consistently deliver value for free, you’ll get leads faster than doing outreach to strangers.
If you’re truly starting at zero — no money, no network — cold outreach might be your only option. But don’t send 25 generic messages. Send three high-quality pieces every day.
If you do that, you’ll land clients. It’s impossible not to. Most people just give up after three messages.
(40:26) Darren:
You’re absolutely right. I get so many messages on LinkedIn from people offering copywriting, web design, SEO — same format every time. “We can do this, here’s our rate, here’s our work, let’s set up a call.”
I ignore all of them.
But your idea — of writing a personalized piece and offering it for free — that’s inspired. Yes, it’s time-consuming, but it works.
And what you said about networks — that’s referral marketing. That’s what BNI and other networks are: give value first, show up, prove yourself, and people refer business.
So what’s your next step in all this? You had a mentor for a month. You said you’ve got another one now?
(42:05) Maiia:
Yes. I’ve just paid her for my second month.
I found her through a podcast. She wasn’t even taking on one-on-one students anymore because her business had scaled past $30,000/month.
She’s only 22 years old. She started at 19 — my age. She genuinely wanted to help me, even though it wasn’t super profitable for her.
She wasn’t reviewing my copy — by that point, I was writing every day and had improved massively. She helped me with client acquisition and strategy.
I don’t want to do just copywriting forever. She’s also a business owner, and she introduced me to the Skool platform.
(43:31) Maiia (continued):
I’m a huge fan of Alex Hormozi — he’s my biggest role model. One of my biggest dreams is to meet him someday.
He invested in Skool, so I thought, “If it’s good enough for him, it’s worth trying.”
I started my own Skool community to attract leads to me, rather than chase them. That way I can focus on landing high-ticket clients and giving them all of my attention.
I’m not doing free work anymore. I did a lot of free work at the start. Now I’m ready to get paid and run a real business.
Within three weeks of engaging in the Skool community, I landed two high-ticket clients — and I’ve been a copywriter for less than four months.
They didn’t even ask how much experience I had on the sales call. I’d already built so much trust by giving them free value in the community. One of them paid me upfront on PayPal — no contract.
(45:35) Darren:
Wow. That’s brilliant. Are they UK clients or US?
Maiia:
One is in the UK but originally from Portugal. The other is in the US.
They’re in totally different niches — which proves you don’t have to stick to just one. That’s a myth.
If you’re a good copywriter and you know how to do research, you can write for any niche.
(46:52) Maiia (continued):
One client is in tech. The other owns a wrestling academy — both in-person and online.
I’m writing mostly for the online one.
At first, I had no idea about wrestling. But I researched what “headgear” is, how much wrestling socks cost… and then I compared his $29.99 subscription to the price of wrestling socks in an email. And it worked.
(47:37) Darren:
So if someone’s already buying wrestling socks, your copy makes them realize they could be getting technique advice for less than that price.
Maiia:
Exactly. I try to make the emails entertaining and valuable.
If you make your emails fun and informative, people get hooked. They’ll open every one, look forward to the next one, and eventually — they’ll buy whatever you’re offering, because they trust you.
(48:20) Darren:
I bet you subscribe to a lot of email newsletters, don’t you? Keep them, file them, refer back to them?
Maiia:
Actually… I don’t.
Darren:
You don’t use swipe files?
Maiia:
Nope.
(48:30) Darren:
So you come up with everything from scratch? You’re not using existing content?
Maiia:
I use existing angles, not the content.
Let me explain — let’s say you’re a fitness trainer running a Facebook ad. You think your audience struggles with meal prep, so your ad says, “Learn how to meal prep in 30 minutes a week and never struggle again.”
But in reality, your audience is struggling with time management for workouts. So your ad flops, because you’re solving the wrong problem.
That’s why I always tell clients to test different angles, even if they think they found a winning one.
Even if the ad is ugly, thrown together in Canva, if it’s the right angle, it can outperform everything else.
It seems like a complex strategy, but it’s the fastest way to find out what people actually want.
(49:44) Maiia (continued):
And the most common mistake I see with clients is they try to sell the product in the ad.
That’s like trying to get married on the first date.
In a Facebook ad, you shouldn’t sell the product — you sell the click.
You’re selling curiosity. You’re selling a dream.
No one wakes up thinking, “I really need a 25-page PDF and a bonus today.” They’re thinking, “Why does that guy have it figured out and I don’t?”
If you market the opportunity, not the product, you’ll win.
(51:13) Darren:
Exactly. People don’t want the guide — they want what the guide gives them.
There’s a brilliant sales trainer I’ve had on this podcast — Andy Bounds. He’s from Liverpool. He calls it the “afters.”
You’re not selling your service as a copywriter. You’re selling the afters — the results you create.
Not “here’s some landing page copy.” No — it’s what that copy does for the client.
(52:23) Darren:
What advice would you give to someone thinking about writing their own Facebook ads, email newsletters, or landing pages?
Maiia:
Look at what your target audience wants — not what you want them to want.
You can’t create demand. You can only fulfill it.
For example, Louis Vuitton doesn’t create the demand for luxury — they fulfill it.
The only formula you really need is the A → B bridge:
A is where your target audience is now.
B is where they want to be.
Your product or service is the bridge.
If you can make your offer that bridge — in their language, not yours — you win. And that takes research.
Also, write at a fifth-grade reading level.
If a ten-year-old wouldn’t understand your CTA, don’t post it. It won’t convert.
(54:28) Maiia (continued):
Don’t write like a professional. Especially if your target is young people — 16 to 25 — you’re competing with TikToks, memes, DMs, their mum calling them to dinner.
If you don’t grab attention immediately, you’re lost.
Call them out. Be specific. Don’t reveal everything in your ad. Tease them. Open a loop — and don’t close it until they click.
(56:01) Maiia (continued):
There’s this brilliant young copywriter, Harry Dry. He said:
“A great piece of copy is like a burrito. If I throw it at you, it won’t fall apart.”
But if I throw a taco? It’s messy. Lettuce everywhere.
What he means is: make your copy tight. Easy to remember. Visual.
Like Apple’s slogan: “10,000 songs in your pocket.”
Or New Balance: “Worn by supermodels in London and dads in Ohio.”
Ask yourself:
Can I visualize it?
Is it true about my brand?
(57:26) Maiia (continued):
And I’m not like the people at my university, or my housemates.
We don’t resonate.
All I want to talk about is business — or fitness — but mostly business.
I thought I loved sports more than anything, but I love entrepreneurship even more.
My goal is to make millions by the time I’m 30.
And it’s not about the money — it’s about the game.
(58:46) Maiia (continued):
I don’t feel lonely, because I have my mentors, I get on sales calls, I feel like I’m part of something bigger.
That’s what purpose gives you.
I wake up at 4:30 a.m. every day and do three hours of deep work before my day starts.
At first, I couldn’t even sit for one hour without getting distracted.
But it’s not about what successful people do — it’s about what they don’t do.
They say no to everything else.
(1:00:00) Maiia (continued):
There’s a season of life where you just have to work more.
Not forever. Just a few years.
If you make your work your life for a few years, you’ll get ahead of 99% of people who are still talking about “work-life balance.”
That balance doesn’t exist. But harmony can — if you love what you do.
The person who loves the process will go further than the one who loves the destination.
(1:01:24) Maiia (continued):
When I started, I was obsessed with making my first $1,000. I thought, “If I don’t, I’m a failure.”
But now, it’s not about money. It’s about becoming the person I want to be.
And I hate where I am right now. I hate it more than waking up at 4:00 a.m.
And that’s what drives me forward.
(1:02:36) Maiia (continued):
My dream — and I know dreams change — is to max out my copywriting income, maybe hit $15k/month, then start a company like Alex Hormozi’s Acquisition.com.
I want to help other businesses grow, take a share of their revenue, and build something that’s not just an agency. Agencies don’t give enough attention to every client. I want to change that.
(1:03:22) Maiia (continued):
In business, you can’t fail — unless you stop.
If I’m still trying at 40 and haven’t made it yet — I’ll keep going. Maybe I’ll make it at 70.
But I know I’ll make it before that.
(1:04:04) Darren:
There are loads of people who made it late in life — Samuel L. Jackson didn’t land his first film role until 45. Colonel Sanders was in his 50s. Henry Ford was in his 40s.
You’ve got time on your side.
But you mentioned going to networking events and feeling like you didn’t belong. That’s wrong.
You absolutely belong. More than most people there.
Some of them are just employees. Some have been in business ten years and still don’t know what they’re doing. You run your own business. You belong.
(1:05:13) Darren (continued):
So don’t think for a second that you don’t belong. You absolutely do.
You’ve got what it takes. And that’s really important — that you know that.
(1:05:49) Darren:
Okay, lecture over.
If you’re the least successful person in your family, your dad must be very proud. That’s for sure. Now, for anyone listening to this who’s thinking, “I like the sound of what she’s saying — I’d love to get her to do some copywriting or landing pages for me,” how can they get in touch?
Maiia:
The best way is through my Skool platform.
Right now, the community is called School Ads Copybook. That might change in the future, but for now, it’s School Ads Copybook.
Darren:
We’ll put the link below the podcast.
Maiia:
Or my email works well too.
Darren:
We’ll include that too — no need to spell it out now. Just check the show notes below the podcast and you’ll find it.
(1:07:28) Darren:
Maiia, thank you very much.
Maiia:
Thank you.
Darren:
Thank you for being on the podcast.
It was an honour to have you here. Honestly — the honour’s mine. It’s rare I meet someone so young who knows exactly where they want to go.
I’ve met maybe one other person at your age who was this clear on what they wanted to do. I tried to hire him — but he went off to do his own thing. I missed out.
And I’m gutted I missed out on him — and I’d be gutted to miss out on you too.
Fantastic. Thank you.
Maiia:
Thank you, Darren.
