The Voice at 2am

Everyone who's built something has a voice telling them to climb back down. Mine has a name.

Let me introduce you to the voice in my head.

His name is Bill.

And he’s an asshole.

I started my career as a good, solid W2 employee. Jumping on projects. Staying late. Going above and beyond to impress my bosses.

You ever climb a tree when you were a kid? You’d stay close to the trunk as you went up. The branches were thicker to hold your weight better. You could hug the trunk if things got a little windy.

Now, if you ventured too far out from the safety of the trunk, the limb would bend and you’d feel unstable. A kid’s unnatural belief in their bulletproofness would most times be plenty to survive the climb.

Staying close to the trunk is what W2 work is like. It feels safe. But if you decide you want to slliiiiiddeee out on one of the branches a bit to test a business idea - it feels a bit dicey.

And that’s when Bill shows up.

The voice who tells you to get back to safety. The one who reminds you of the mortgage payment or that one time when you launched an app and Google kicked your ass or that you’re a bit too old to be learning something new.

All true. All useless.

He does his best work at 2am. When the house is quiet, the day's noise is gone, and there's nothing left in the room to drown him out.

No one who’s built anything is being honest if they don’t acknowledge their own Bill.

The key is understanding that the voice never goes away. I found that naming him and then acknowledging him was the way to sap his power. To quiet the voice. To acknowledge that you hear him but you’re going to do what you want anyway.

You don’t know how to write for Substack.

“Yes Bill, I know that. No one does the first time.”

No one cares what you have to say.

“That’s ok. I’m writing for me”

You’re going to look foolish.

“Possibly. To people I’ve never met. I’m going to try anyway.”

Name yours. And go do the thing.