For the past few years, I've been living the remote work dream. No suits, no commutes, just me in jeans and a t-shirt, programming across the stack while juggling Google meetings and Slack messages.

I initially took this position because I wanted to see how a company functioned from the inside, and wanted to join a more mature operation. My previous experience had been as a freelancer or at the small product studio I had cofounded and run for 3+ years. While that had been a great way to try my hand at a variety of different projects, and wear multiple different hats, I quickly became tired of doing client work as it felt too repetitive and didn't give me the opportunity to seek the creative and intellectual depth I was craving. As a studio our job was to meet the needs of our clients, not pursue our own curiosities.

What I gained working corporate

Trace ended up being a great opportunity. And joining a 100-person team was the exact right decision at the time, offering lessons and experiences that couldn't have been gained any other way.

The biggest lesson I took away was that all companies, even ones with dozens of employees, are just making it up as they go along. What matters most is the strong vision that guides the CEO. A north star is crucial and keeps people coming back day after day. And strong leadership is paramount. This insight was both sobering and empowering - it demystified the corporate world while highlighting the importance of clear direction and purpose in any venture.

I also learned the value of keeping your expenses low. During my 3-year stint, I made a conscious decision to maintain a simple lifestyle. This allowed me to save over 75% of my salary - a nest egg that I chose to invest in a number of assets (including Bitcoin during the 2022 bear market lows). It was a calculated risk that, thankfully, paid off well.

What I lost working corporate

Despite the financial success and the freedom to work from anywhere, I've felt stagnant, trading my time for a paycheck. It's comfortable, sure, but comfort isn't everything. The corporate world, with its promise of stability and steady income, is a well-trodden path that many see as the safe option.

But is another option really what I need? Harvard professor Mihir Desai warns against the modern obsession with keeping our options open, arguing that it can lead to a state of perpetual limbo where we never commit to anything substantial. As Desai puts it:

"Optionality is a means to an end, not the end itself."

I've realized that I was guilty of just this - always preparing, planning, always keeping my options open, but never fully committing to, well, anything. The corporate job, with its regular paychecks and benefits, has been my safety net, my ultimate "option." But in trying to keep all doors open, I've walked through none of them, and was starting to forget what I really wanted out of my life.

This reminds me of something Kevin O'Leary once said:

"A salary is a drug that employers give to employees to make them forget about their dreams."

There's a lot of truth in there. The steady paycheck has been a potent narcotic, numbing me to my own ambitions and causing me to postpone building something fueled by my own creativity.

A similar quote from Pieter Levels also stuck with me:

"Building something interesting requires a surplus of time and money. Salaried jobs provide neither. Unless the job itself is your dream, stay the fuck away from them."

The corporate world, I've realized, is often about fitting in, while entrepreneurship is about standing out.

Making a change

I decided it was time for a change. I put in my four weeks' notice, and October 4th was my last day. As of this week, I'm self-employed, free to start building my future. And thanks to my disciplined saving and investment strategy, I've accumulated a runway that will allow me to focus entirely on building my own projects and pursuing my own ideas without immediate financial pressure.

What now?

Over the next 12 months, I'm going to attempt something I've been pondering for a while: launching a new startup every 4-6 weeks. The goal is 12 projects in a year. It's ambitious, maybe even a bit naive, but it feels like the right challenge for me right now.

This challenge is my way of breaking free from the allure of optionality and the comforting drug of a salary. It's about committing to action, to creation, to putting ideas into the world instead of endlessly preparing for the perfect moment. It's about recognizing that true security doesn't come from a steady paycheck, but from the ability to create value on your own terms.

The corporate world has taught me valuable lessons, but it's time to apply those lessons to my own ventures. The path of entrepreneurship might be riskier, but it's also where true growth and fulfillment lie. Luckily, I'm not starting from scratch – I'm standing on the shoulders of giants.

I've drawn inspiration from creators like Pieter Levels (levelsio), Danny Postma, and Marc Louvion. These builders have shown me that success in the digital world isn't just about coding skills – it's about understanding markets, connecting with users, and relentlessly shipping products. Their approaches have made me realize that I need to broaden my focus beyond just programming.

This time is different

Taking cues from these successful entrepreneurs, I'm reshaping my approach to building products. One major shift for me this time around will be in how I allocate my time. Historically, I've spent about 99% of my time on development and maybe 1% on marketing, if that. Now, I'm aiming for at least a 50/50 split, possibly even 60% marketing and 40% building. It's uncomfortable territory for me, but I think it's necessary.

This change isn't just about time allocation – it's about embracing all aspects of entrepreneurship. Marketing, user research, business strategy, and community building are now going to be as crucial to my process as writing code. It's a holistic approach that feels foreign, but exciting.

Why this approach?

Partly because I tend to get bogged down in details, perfecting a product that no one might want. By limiting myself to 4-6 weeks per project and focusing on more than just development, I'm forced to consider the bigger picture and focus on the essentials. It's also about learning – about markets, about users, about myself, and about what it truly takes to build successful products in today's digital landscape.

The rules

To keep myself focused and ensure each project has the best chance of success, I've set some ground rules for each startup:

  1. They must be paid apps. No free tiers or "we'll figure out monetization later" approaches.
  2. They must be feature complete. No broken links, buttons, or dead-ends. Every feature needs to work as intended.
  3. They have to be simple to build. This challenge is about shipping, not over-engineering.
  4. I'm going to use the same tech stack across all the apps. This will allow me to reuse code and components across projects, speeding up development.
  5. Each product must solve a problem present in my own life. If I wouldn't use it, I shouldn't build it.
  6. Each product must be marketable through TikTok content made by me (or through faceless videos).

These rules are designed to keep me accountable, ensure I'm building genuinely useful products, and force me to think about marketing from day one.

But it's not just about the projects themselves. I've also set some personal rules to follow throughout this journey:

  1. Stay on task. No starting a new project before I've finished the last one.
  2. Keep my head down and ignore what everyone else around me is doing.

This second rule is particularly important to me. In the past, I've been too concerned with other people's lives and successes (that's a topic for a whole other post). I tend to get distracted by trends and what other people are building or doing. But this year is about me, developing my skills, building what I want, and learning about myself.

This approach aligns with another insight from David Perell's essay on Peter Thiel's philosophy:

"The last commandment says you shouldn't covet your neighbor's goods. Inspired by the 10th commandment, Thiel encourages listeners to avoid competition. True to Mimetic Theory, the last commandment focuses on the neighbor instead of the object of desire because all objects are desirable when they belong to your neighbor. Society will push you towards competition, but you shouldn't compete with your peers or depend on them for guidance. Competition is for losers. Copy the people who don't copy people."

This resonates deeply with me. While I can take inspiration from others, I'm choosing to focus on those not directly in my space or sphere. I'm not here to compete or to copy what's already being done. I'm here to carve my own path, to build what I believe needs to exist in the world.

I'm not expecting overnight success. In fact, I'm prepared for most of these projects to fail. But that's okay. The goal here isn't to create the next unicorn startup, it's to learn, to build, to put ideas out into the world and see what sticks.

This blog will serve as a record of the journey. I'll share the process, the challenges, the lessons learned. It won't be polished or perfect, but it will be real.

If you're interested in following along, whether out of curiosity, shared ambition, or just to see how this experiment unfolds, you're welcome here. No hype, no grand promises, just an honest account of trying to build something of my own.

Follow my progress here and on X at @standardio.

Better late than never, right?