Why I never ship anything
I’m a software developer. And I, too, am a victim of the hustle mindset. Although I have a job I quite like, I keep fantasizing about creating side projects that help me diversify my income, learn cool stuff, and in general make me more of a producer and less of a consumer. However, I am utterly incapable of shipping absolutely anything.
The way it goes is normally like this: I get an idea, probably about something that could become a SaaS B2B product; I get hyped and start coding, setting up a new repo and scaffolding out the project; and then abandon it after a couple of hours or days once the initial hype wears out, or I face the first challenges, or self-doubt starts to creep up.
Over the last few years, I’ve progressively lowered the bar of what it means to “ship anything”, but the bar is so low now that taking a picture and posting it on the internet would have been an accomplishment. I also tried to make a blog and just write something but the same problems arose. I now even have a drawing sitting on my coffee table that I’m somehow not able to finish.
After thinking about this for a while, I’ve identified a couple of issues with how I operate that prevent me from producing anything and showing it to the world.
Daydreaming kills my projects
I’ve always been a big daydreamer. I let my mind wander all the time, and it’s difficult for me to be fully present. Sometimes, this manifests itself on a positive note, like when I imagine I become a politician or something and I promote better train infrastructure in my home country. Most frequently though, I embark on a negative mental journey. I don’t know why my brain does this to me —especially when I’m in the shower— but I start delving into a hypothetical future where bad things happen to me. I’m now trying to become aware of these moments and cut them off immediately, but it’s still hard.
Well, I think this is one of the main problems preventing me from shipping anything. When I embark on a new project, I start fantasizing about how well it’s going to go, how slick it’s going to look, how much money will I make. I now think visualizing these fantasies gives my brain the fulfillment I would get from achieving such success but without putting in any effort at all.
On the other hand, I also start imagining all the things that could go wrong. However, instead of anticipating them and planning for mitigations, I usually imagine some abstract problem that I have no idea how to solve (of course, I don’t even know whether the problem is even a valid concern), and then decide “well, it’s not going to work anyway, so why try?”.
So, regardless of visualizing positively or negatively, my excessive tendency to daydream prevents me from actually trying to do the thing.
Fear of disappointing
What people think of me —or rather, what I think they think of me— has an outsized influence on me. I’m afraid of getting criticism, attacks, or looking like an ignorant. Just the fact of writing this makes me feel vulnerable, but I’m doing it as a bit of a leap of faith. I think that’s preventing me from trying new things, enjoying the things that I already do, or making something for the world to see.
Therefore, I unconciously delay the moment of shipping by doing other stuff. In particular, for new projects, that means that I’ll dive into whatever rabbit holes I can find, like styling this very article you’re reading or obsessing about finding my voice instead of writing some text and publishing it.
Mindset towards money
As a consequence of the previous point, since I’m not confident in the value I provide, I’m also unable to imagine charging money for that value. I’m afraid people will call me out or be disappointed with what I built.
I recently helped out a friend-of-a-friend who needed a hand with a software project of their own. Although they were really kind and hammered on the fact that they were willing to pay me for my time, I still felt guilty about it. When I handed over the assignment they needed, I searched for hourly rates of developers for similar tasks, then I picked the lower bound, then I halved it, shaved off a couple of euros, and although I felt underpaid I still felt guilty about asking for that amount.
Now, part of the reluctance was because we hadn’t agreed upon the rate beforehand, and I will do things differently next time. Still, the fact that asking for too low of a price still made me uncomfortable was revealing.
What I’m doing about it
When I catch myself daydreaming, I now try to ruthlessly cut it off. It will be difficult because it has been my modus operandi since I was a child, but I’ll try anyway. I will also try to finish something, just something, starting with the half-done drawing, and progressing up. Once I have at least some tiny sliver of proof that I can finish something, I hope things get better.
Writing this, even if I end up not publishing because I’m too scared of whoever reads this (is it entitled of me to think that someone will even read this?), is proving somewhat therapeutical anyway.