Step 04: Why This Idea?
We've already checked if your idea fits the way your life actually runs. Now, we're going a level deeper - does it matter enough to you to actually build it?
This isn't about selling a dream. It's a gut-check: do you care enough about this idea to keep pushing when life gets dull, messy, or hard?
You're not building this for a pitch deck. Be honest, even if it feels risky or awkward - nobody else is judging here.
What To Do
- Forget vision statements. Write down what you'd say if nobody else would ever see it.
- Dig for the "selfish" reason: what do you want to gain, fix, or prove by making this real?
- Don't reach for a noble-sounding answer.
- Don't force yourself to impress anyone.
The raw, unfiltered reason is usually the most useful. If writing your answer feels a bit uncomfortable or messy, you're probably getting close to something real.
- Do: Write out what you'd genuinely be leaving behind if you walk away—even if it feels small or unimportant.
- Do: Be honest about both practical and emotional stakes—don't just focus on the financials.
- Don't: Inflate the cost to make the idea feel more important than it is.
- Don't: Skip this just because the idea feels uncertain or early-stage. That's the point.
Fit-check: If walking away feels easy, notice that. If it feels uncomfortable, pay attention to what that tells you.
Complete this sentence: "If I don't pursue this idea, I'll be walking away from…"
Include practical opportunities (income, independence, new connections), emotional stakes (regret, shame, lost momentum), or future possibilities that might not come around again.
If you don't feel like there's much to lose, write that down too. It could mean the idea doesn't carry as much weight as you thought—or that your attention is better spent elsewhere.
What's next
Here, you name the cost of doing nothing. If you can walk away from the idea and feel genuinely at peace, that's worth knowing. If walking away leaves you restless, that's worth knowing too.
This exercise isn't about proving your idea is good; it's about testing your relationship to it. You're creating a reference point for your future self, one less swayed by frustration or self-doubt.
TLDR: This is about clarity, not pressure. You're setting out your own stakes—not for anyone else, but for your own future reference.
EXPLORE MORE
This exercise isn't about proving your idea is good. It's about testing your relationship to it. You're not asking, "Can I make this work?" but, "If I walk away, will I be fine - or will I carry it with me for years?"
By writing it down now, you're creating a reference point for your future self—one that's less likely to be swayed by frustration, fear, or a passing wave of self-doubt. When you decide later whether to pursue this idea, reshape it, or leave it behind, you'll want this reflection close to hand. It will stop you making a decision based purely on mood or outside noise.
This is not a branding exercise or a motivational speech. It's a personal gut-check: can you give a real answer about why this matters to you, even if it sounds selfish, messy, or unfinished?
Most people get stuck here because they reach for the "right" answer, not the real one. Don't. The point is honesty, not polish.
Example of what not to write:
"I want to build something that changes the world and inspires people." (Generic, surface-level, and not actually about you.)
Better:
"I want to prove to myself I can finish something before I talk myself out of it." (Honest, awkward, but actually useful.)
This isn't about selling yourself a dream or building a pitch for someone else. It's about facing the real, sometimes awkward, truth: would you fight for this when nobody's watching and motivation's low?
Most ideas sound exciting for a week or two. The question here is whether you care enough about this one to keep pushing when life gets dull, messy, or hard.
Misfit Insight: Surviving Boredom
Most people don't quit because their idea is weak - they quit because it stops mattering when life gets in the way. The only ideas worth keeping are the ones that can survive boredom, setbacks, or weeks when nothing feels exciting. If you'd still build this for yourself, even if nobody else ever noticed, you're onto something. If not, be honest - better to know now than six months in.
The Practical Cost
In this step, you name exactly what you'd be walking away from if you shelved your idea right now—both the obvious and the hidden costs. Some ideas are worth pursuing - some aren't. But most people never stop to ask: "What happens if I walk away from this?"
You are naming the cost of doing nothing. That cost might be emotional. It might be financial. It might be the slow frustration of watching someone else build something you could have started. You're not being asked to make it dramatic. Just be clear about what's at stake.
Psychology: Fear of Regret > Fear of Failure
Behavioural psychologists like Daniel Kahneman and Richard Zeckhauser have found that most people fear regret more than failure.
Why it matters: Regret lingers, nags at your sense of identity, and prompts "what if" thoughts for years. Failure is finite; regret is open-ended. If you see someone else build what you dreamed of, how will you feel?
Misfit Insight: The Real Cost of Ideas Left Unfinished
The biggest risk isn't failure. It's living with the unfinished shape of an idea stuck in your head, haunting you every time you see someone else doing something even vaguely similar. "The unfinished idea is the one that sticks. Even if it was never meant to be built, it lingers until you decide what to do with it."
Why it matters: Some people can walk away clean. If you can't, that tells you this is worth exploring further—even if it never becomes a business.
Reflection Cue: Regret in Your Own Story
Think of a time you didn't act on an idea and later saw someone else succeed with it. How did that feel? What does that tell you about your tolerance for regret now?
Sometimes, the only way to know if you care about an idea is to imagine someone else running with it. If you'd be fine, write it down. If it would sting, notice that—don't ignore it.
The Spanx Test
Sara Blakely's breakthrough didn't come from a big brainstorm - it started because she was annoyed by tights that didn't work under white trousers. She hacked together her own fix and wore it out. Years later, after rejections, doubts, and a lot of awkward testing, she still cared enough to keep building. That's what real motivation looks like: quiet, persistent, and personal.
Creative Chaos
Many great ideas survive because their creators keep tinkering, even after everyone else would've dropped it. Don't discount your distractions - ADHD, boredom, even frustration can be fuel for building something original.
David Bowie on Discomfort
Bowie wasn't talking about danger - he meant creative discomfort. The feeling of not quite knowing what comes next is a sign you're pushing your limits. That's where the real work happens.
In this TED Talk, Elizabeth Gilbert talks about creative fear, persistence, and the balance between personal responsibility and external inspiration.
Watch: Elizabeth Gilbert – Your Elusive Creative Genius (19 mins)
This is a good reminder that most creative decisions aren't about proving yourself—they're about making peace with whatever outcome you choose.
If you want a nudge or a reality check, your AI can help. Try these, or invent your own:
- "Read my answer back to me. Does it sound like me, or like I'm trying to impress someone?"
- "Push me: what's the real reason under all the clever words?"
- "Compare my motivation to a founder or artist I admire - what's similar, what's missing?"
- "I've written what I'd be walking away from if I don't build this. Does it read like a genuine set of stakes - or am I just trying to talk myself into it?"
- "Help me tell the difference between real opportunity cost and manufactured urgency."
- "If you read what I've written here as an outsider, would you believe me?"
You: "I think I'm building this just to prove I can."
AI: "What would you do differently if you no longer needed that proof?"