So you’ve started a side project.
You bought the domain, spun up a repo, maybe even slapped together a landing page. You're pumped. This is it. The idea that's going to finally lift you out of your day job (which you only kind of hate) and into indie hacker stardom.
But here’s the uncomfortable truth:
It’s probably going to fail.
Not because you’re lazy. Not because your code is trash. And definitely not because you lack vision.
It’s just... how this works.
Let me explain.
The Statistics Suck. But That’s Not the Point.
The numbers? They’re brutal. Something like 90% of side projects go nowhere. They fizzle out in silence—one dusty commit at a time.
But if you’ve been around devs, you already know this. You've seen dozens of "Coming Soon" pages that never... well, came.
And yet, people still start new projects. They still stay up till 2 a.m. fiddling with Next.js animations or writing API docs no one will ever read. Why?
Because even if your project fails, you win.
We’ll get to that. First, let’s talk about why these things fall apart.
The Motivation Mirage
The first week? You're unstoppable. You're sketching wireframes during lunch breaks and tweaking typography at red lights. (Don't do that.)
But then, something shifts. Your enthusiasm turns into obligation. The dopamine rush dries up. You hit something mundane—billing logic or GDPR compliance—and suddenly, Netflix looks really inviting.
Motivation is like a sugar high. It hits fast, feels amazing, and then drops you on your face.
Sustainable side projects aren’t built on motivation. They’re built on something far grittier: habit, purpose, and occasionally, pure spite.
Too Many Hats, Not Enough Heads
Building a side project is like running a tiny, underfunded, chaotic startup—except you’re the CEO, CTO, CMO, and the intern. You’re doing:
- Frontend and backend
- Copywriting (which you swear you’re terrible at)
- DevOps you barely understand
- And somehow, customer support for that one guy in Bulgaria who emailed you at 3 a.m.
Unless you’re a polymath or sleep four hours a night (and I don't recommend it), you’re going to drop balls. And guess what? That’s completely normal.
The truth? Most developers underestimate how much non-coding work is involved. And when the actual building stops being fun, the whole thing screeches to a halt.
Shiny Object Syndrome Is Real
There’s always another idea.
You're deep in a project—weeks of code written, issues logged, a semi-functional MVP online—and then someone on Hacker News posts a cool new library. Or you wake up with a “better” idea. Cleaner. Simpler. Faster to ship.
Suddenly, your current project feels clunky. Messy. Boring.
So you start something new. Again.
And again.
Until your GitHub is littered with half-built empires, each one abandoned at the exact moment it stopped being fun.
Side note: this doesn't make you flaky. It just means you're creative. But eventually, you’ll have to choose whether you’re chasing novelty or progress.
You’re Not Supposed to Know Everything
One reason side projects stall? You hit something you don’t know how to do.
OAuth integrations. Pricing models. Writing actual terms and conditions.
And instead of pushing through, you stop. Not because you’re incapable—but because it’s uncomfortable.
We’re all a bit allergic to discomfort. Especially devs who are used to feeling in control.
But here's the thing: you don't need to master everything. You just need to be okay with not knowing stuff and figuring it out anyway.
Now for the Good News
So yeah—your side project might flop. But let me flip this on its head.
That failure? It's not failure at all. It’s disguised progress.
Here’s why.
1. Every Project Levels You Up
Even if no one uses your app, you used it. You learned. You tried.
You maybe figured out how to connect Stripe without crying, or got your first taste of AWS Lambda. Or maybe you finally understood why everyone complains about CSS.
Each side project is like a gym session. Doesn’t matter if you win a competition—what matters is the reps.
Your 4th failed app is way better than your 1st failed app. And the 5th might just be the one that sticks.
2. You’re Building a Personal Stack
Not just tech-wise—although yeah, your stack probably evolved from jQuery to React to SvelteKit with a sprinkle of Tailwind somewhere in between.
I’m talking about your approach. Your decision-making. Your taste.
You learn what not to build. You stop overengineering. You start writing copy that doesn’t sound like it came from an AI with a thesaurus addiction.
In short: you get better at knowing what actually matters.
3. Momentum Beats Perfection
The people who eventually ship successful projects?
They’re the ones who keep moving.
Not because they’re smarter. Just because they don’t quit completely.
They take breaks, sure. They ghost projects sometimes. But they always come back swinging—new repo, new idea, slightly less bad typography.
And eventually, one of those projects sticks. Not because it was perfect. But because they just kept going.
4. The Community Sees You (Even If You Don’t Notice)
You might feel invisible. Like you’re shouting into the void on Twitter. But people notice.
Your consistency. Your ideas. Your willingness to build.
That stuff adds up.
I’ve seen devs land jobs, collaborators, podcast invites, and newsletter subs just because they kept posting about their side projects—even the janky ones.
So don’t wait for the “perfect” project to show up. Just show up yourself.
Okay, So… What Now?
Let’s say you’re in the messy middle of a dying project right now. What should you do?
Here’s a low-stress checklist:
- Pause without quitting. Step away. Breathe. You’re allowed to rest.
- Talk about it. Even the messy stuff. Especially the messy stuff.
- Set a tiny goal. One bug fix. One tweet. One feature.
- Get feedback. Not from randos—ask people who get it.
- Remember your why. Reconnect with what made this project exciting before it got hard.
And if you decide to shelf it? That’s okay too. Just don’t burn out pretending to care.
You’re Not Wasting Your Time
Look—I know it feels like you’re stuck in a loop sometimes. Starting projects, abandoning them, questioning if you’ll ever finish something worth sharing.
But you are moving forward.
You’re collecting scars, stories, skills. Stuff that won’t show up in your GitHub green squares, but absolutely shows up in how you think, code, and create.
The people who “make it”? They’re not better than you. They just kept swinging. Through the boring parts. Through the rewrites. Through the failed launches.
So yeah—your side project might fail.
But it’s still worth building.
- Josh
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