YOUR STARTING POINT

There's an idea you can't quite shake. Something about it keeps pulling you back, even when you're trying to focus on other things. Let's figure out what's actually at stake if this works out - and why now feels different from all the other times you've thought about it.

THiNK! is a decision tool, not a training programme. No jargon. No hustle theatre. Just clear prompts to help you make a real choice, without pressure and without sugar-coating.

Three places founders end up

Here's what tends to happen when founders get honest about whether an idea fits their actual life:

PURSUE
Some realise this is it - the constraints they thought were problems are actually perfect. Limited energy? That rules out business models that need constant input. Neurodivergent brain? That tells you which marketing channels will hold your attention and which ones you'll abandon in three weeks. The idea doesn't need to be perfect. It needs to be sustainable for you.
PIVOT
Others see that something's worth keeping, but not this version. The core problem matters to you, but the way you're trying to solve it doesn't fit your life. Maybe you're designing something that needs in-person delivery when you've got caring responsibilities. Maybe you're planning a business that requires evening networking when you're an introvert who's done by 6pm. The instinct is sound; the execution needs reshaping.
PAUSE
And some recognise this isn't the one - and that's not failure. Walking away from an idea that doesn't fit is good decision-making. You're not giving up on entrepreneurship; you're refusing to force something that will break you. As Anne Lamott writes in Bird by Bird, not every rough draft becomes a book. Some ideas exist to teach you what you actually need.
Here's what makes this decision harder than it should be: You've probably already invested time thinking about this. Walking away feels like waste (it's not - clarity is valuable). You might have told people about it. Pausing feels like admitting failure (it's not - it's good decision-making). And there's that nagging fear: what if you walk away and this was the one?

These feelings are normal. They're also not good reasons to proceed. Better to acknowledge them now than discover in six months that you forced something that never fit.

Use your journal to capture what's in your head. After that, if you want to see how these choices play out in practice, check Explore More for a real founder's story.

What "good" looks like here

If it sounds like something you'd text a mate at 11pm, you're in the right territory. This isn't about impressing anyone - not future you, not potential investors, not the voice in your head that says you should sound "more professional."

If a paragraph feels heavy when you read it back, your thinking probably isn't clear enough yet. Split it. Simplify it. All first drafts are terrible - yours included. Write the messy version first, then make it clearer.

Use your journal to capture what's in your head.

The honest version of building anything meaningful is rarely a straight line.

I've been building things since I was thirteen. My first attempt at a business was making and selling candle-holders at school. I didn't do it because I wanted to be an entrepreneur, but because I wanted to create something of my own. That sense of ownership, even at that age, stuck with me.

Later, when one of my own children had severe reflux and nothing on the market worked, I ended up designing a wedge that actually helped. That project didn't start as a company either. It started as a desperate attempt to solve a real problem for my family. Word got out, more people needed help, and before I knew it, I was running the world's biggest infant reflux product brand. None of it came from a five-year plan or a big vision. It came from trying to make life better, one decision at a time.

Over the years, I've worked with founders and teams at all stages. What I kept seeing, again and again, was people struggling not because they lacked drive or ideas, but because the usual business advice just didn't fit their lives. I'm neurodivergent, I live in a blended family with six kids, and I know what it's like to have your energy pulled in different directions. I've seen good people give up on ideas simply because the advice they got didn't work for their brain or their home life.

That's what led to The Misfit Engine. It isn't about chasing some perfect business or copying what works for someone else. It's about finding what fits you, in real life, with all the mess and contradictions that come with it.

Jonathan's path wasn't linear. Yours won't be either. The question isn't whether you'll face mess and contradictions; it's whether this particular mess is worth navigating. If you're wrestling with your own idea now, you're not alone. You only need to take the next step that fits you.

If you're feeling stuck on any part of this step, try asking Claude these questions. They're designed to push your thinking and challenge your assumptions.

Feeling unclear about whether this idea is real or just interesting?
Try this: "Push me on whether I'm solving a genuine problem or just fascinated by the solution. What am I romanticising here?"
Not sure if your 'why now' holds up?
Ask: "Challenge my urgency - is this timing real or am I just afraid of missing out? What would happen if I started this in six months instead?"
Wondering if you're being honest about constraints?
Try: "What am I not admitting to myself about my actual capacity? Where's the gap between the founder I think I should be and the one I actually am?"
Worried you'll regret walking away?
Ask: "Am I attached to this idea because it's genuinely right, or because I've already invested