When the Backlog Is Full
Maybe the real win isn’t in finishing everything, but in understanding my own limits, and honoring them.
There’s this idea we all know, fake it until you make it.
It sounds catchy. Motivational, even. A mindset, a mantra. And to be fair, it works… sometimes.
But lately, I’ve been thinking: what happens when you finally get into rooms, communities, or bubbles where everyone is faking it too?
That’s when things start to feel strange.
Because it’s one thing to play the part as you grow into it. It’s another when you realize the people you once looked up to, thought leaders, influencers, even startup founders and corporate execs, might just be making it up as they go along too. And honestly? That’s not necessarily bad. It just forces you to see things differently.
Especially when it comes to building.
Especially when you’re just starting.
There’s this unspoken pressure when you have an idea. Everyone tells you to share it early, get feedback, iterate. And so you talk, first to your friends, then mentors, then the people you admire. And sometimes, that alone feels like progress. The nods. The smiles. The “you might be onto something.” That momentary high.
But after a while, talking starts to feel like a loop. You’re stuck in the feedback phase, refining, rethinking, reshaping. Yet… nothing’s really moving. Just another fancy landing page. A domain name. An idea still sitting in the same place you left it months ago.
I’ve been here.
I’ve also done the thing where I bring people I like, friends, good people, into the early stages of a project. It starts with excitement. Late-night brainstorming. That feeling that maybe this could be something. You even have a few meetings. Everything feels possible.
And then life happens.
People get busy. Priorities shift. You understand, they have things going on. You take a break, give space, wait for the right time to restart. But weeks turn into months. The spark fades. The idea doesn’t feel like our anymore. Or worse, it doesn’t feel familiar at all.
Sometimes, someone else brings in new people. Suddenly, the idea becomes unrecognizable. You still want to stay, because momentum, even slow, is better than none. And 30% of something, is better than 100% of nothing. But you find yourself unsure if you even want to see it through. You start asking: is this me? Or is this team just not working?
Maybe something has changed…
Maybe, that’s what it means working in a team, building something from scratch…
Maybe you should walk away…
Maybe you aren’t listening…
Maybe you’re not being heard…
Maybe you should have structuring things first…
Maybe no one taught you what to do when your dream starts shifting without you.
It’s not something we talk about enough. Most books or podcasts talk about how hard building is. But rarely do they show you this part, the quiet unraveling of a once-exciting idea. The misalignment. The slow drift.
And maybe, maybe, it’s also me.
I tend to invite people in before building a clear structure. I think that’s something I need to work on. Because, truthfully, the work I’m proudest of? They’re the ones I started alone. No permission. No committee. Just action. And then, when things had some shape, people came in. They always do when there’s clarity and motion.
It’s what some of my friends have been trying to tell me:
Get started.
Build something small.
Show the work.
Know how people can help.
Then invite them in.
Maybe that’s where you find your real co-founders, not in the excitement, but in the execution.
And maybe there’s also the money part. Would it be different if we were accepted into an accelerator? Got funding? Something that signals: this isn’t a hobby anymore? Maybe. Could that be one of the unspoken advantages of accelerators? Structure, urgency, accountability?
And here’s the thing, it’s not just about startups or side projects.
This same pattern shows up at work too.
You see it when someone decides to go beyond their job description. When they notice a gap, maybe a broken process, a missed opportunity, or a data point that keeps getting ignored, and they quietly build a proof of concept. They don’t wait for approval or five meetings with five layers of management. They just make something real. Something useful. And funny enough? That almost always gets less pushback than trying to rally alignment first. Bureaucracy has a way of slowing things down. But if you ship something valuable, something that’s tied to real goals, real metrics, you can cut through a lot of noise. It’s like that saying "ask for forgiveness, not permission"
Maybe that’s what it means to take initiative.
Maybe that’s what leadership really looks like, doing the work before anyone gives you permission to.
And maybe that’s what’s being asked of me. Or of you.
Not someday.
Maybe now. Or soon.
Of course, it’s not always clean or easy. You’ll doubt yourself. You’ll wonder if it’s even your place. But there’s power in doing, in trying, in showing rather than telling.
Could this be what soloprenuer is about?
Right now, I’m not sure where I land with all of this. But I’m glad for what I’ve experienced, this loop I’ve found myself in again. And I think it matters that I’m even writing about it. These are the things no one talks about enough. The quiet friction. The blurred lines. The moments when we ask, am I doing this right?
If you’re building something, or thinking about building, maybe this helps. And maybe, six months or a year from now, I’ll come back and write a sequel.
Maybe I’ll be in the same spot.
Maybe I’ll be in a different one.
I don’t know yet.
But at least I’m starting again.
And that’s something.
Maybe everything.
If you have a minute. Kindly, drop your thoughts and experience on Just Another Day - Substack