Show it

The moment comes to put it in front of somebody and you will never feel ready.

I have delayed it many times with perfectly reasonable excuses. I have learned to recognise the worst one: polishing the part that was never at risk. When I catch myself improving something that already worked while the important thing is still unchecked, I know what is going on. I am not being thorough. I am protecting the idea from an answer.

Showing it is not launching either. It is keeping quiet while somebody uses it. No helping, no explaining, no jumping in when they get stuck. And they will get stuck. That uncomfortable half hour teaches more than any report: you will watch a person struggle with what you made and then tell you, politely, that it was great.

Then comes the part almost nobody mentions. You let it go and nothing happens.

Silence looks a lot like rejection, but it hardly ever is; to reject you they would have had to understand you first. And the worst thing you can do then is move fast. There are several possible reasons behind that silence, the fixes point in opposite directions and choosing wrong costs months. It is worth stopping to find out which one is yours before touching anything, even though stopping is exactly what your body does not want.

Of everything you can measure, the only one I believe is somebody coming back a second time. On their own. Without you in the room.