Everyone Wants Their First 100 Users. Almost Everyone Is Doing It Wrong

The race to 100 users.
Every founder feels it. That desperate need for a number on a dashboard.
So what do we do?
We read about scalable funnels. Paid acquisition. Big, splashy launch events.
We think we need a perfect product before anyone can see it.
And honestly? That's kind of perfect… if you want to waste six months and burn through your cash.
Because the founders who actually win this race aren't doing any of that.
They’re doing something much simpler. Much quieter. And way more effective.
This isn't some list of growth hacks.
It's a reminder that the best way to get users isn't loud.
It's authentic. Relentless, even.
If you care about building something with users who stick around, not just sign up, keep reading.
Here are the four rules for getting your first 100 users that most people ignore.
1. Solve a Problem You Actually Have
Have you ever seen a product and thought, “who would ever use this?”
Yeah. Me too.
That's what happens when founders build for a hypothetical customer they've never met.
The single most powerful, under-used strategy is brutally simple: solve your own damn problem.
Be User Zero.
No guessing games.
No focus groups.
No “validating the market.”
Just an obsessive focus on fixing something that personally drives you nuts. Every. Single. Day.
This isn't ego. It's a strategic weapon.
When you're your own first user, the marketing just writes itself. You can talk about the pain with real passion because you’ve lived it.
The feedback loop is instant. You know a feature is clumsy because you’re the one getting frustrated using it.
This wasn’t an accident for the best products. It was engineered.
Take the developer who was sick of spending a week building a portfolio just to share a few projects. He didn’t build “a portfolio tool.” He built something to solve his specific problem: “I need to share my work with a collaborator in the next hour without it looking like garbage.”
See the difference?
Here’s your actionable: before you write a line of code, write down your frustration. Not the solution. The problem.
In excruciating detail.
If you can’t, you’re building for a ghost. Fix that first.
2. Stop Hiding Your Work
You’d think the best way to launch is with a big reveal, right?
The classic “ta-da!” moment.
Try again.
The smartest founders build their audience while they build their product.
They build in public.
And no, that doesn't mean just posting changelogs on social media.
It means turning your entire development process into a story. The good, the bad, and the ugly.
Share the wireframe sketches.
The feature you killed.
The user feedback that made you rethink everything.
That journey—the struggle, the small wins, the "aha!" moments—is your most powerful marketing asset. It pulls people in. It makes them feel invested before they've even signed up.
But this isn't some accidental fluke. You have to be deliberate.
First, talk constantly about the problem. A post that says, "Here's the frustrating way I used to manage my projects, and my first ugly attempt to fix it," is a thousand times more interesting than, "Check out my new project management app."
One is a story. The other is an ad.
Second, give away value. Share what you’re learning. Your insights. Your frameworks. Position yourself as an expert in the problem, and people will trust you to build the solution.
Want to apply this? Before you ship your next feature, write about why you're building it.
What’s the pain? The backstory?
If you can’t tell that story, no one will care about the feature.
Turns out, transparency builds trust. And trust converts.
3. Ship Something That’s Ugly (As Long As It Works)
You know something is truly useful when it doesn't have to be pretty.
That's the early-stage product philosophy in a nutshell.
Founders obsess over polish. Pixel-perfect buttons. Flawless design systems.
But your first 100 users don't give a damn about your color palette.
They have a painful problem. They are looking for a painkiller, not a vitamin.
This is the shift from a Minimum Viable Product to a Minimum Viable Experience.
The MVE is the absolute rawest version of your product that lets a user solve their core problem. It might be clunky. It might be missing features. It might look like it was designed in 1998.
None of that matters if it delivers on its one big promise.
If your app saves a developer five hours a week, they won’t care about your button hover states.
They’ll care about the five hours they got back.
That's the "wow" moment. That's what makes them stick.
Why? So you can focus on the value, not the vibes.
Prioritizing polish before you’ve proven people want the core solution is like putting expensive rims on a car with no engine.
It looks nice, but it’s not going anywhere.
Want a real takeaway? Audit your to-do list.
Draw two columns: "Helps someone solve the core problem" and "Makes it look nice."
Do not touch a single item in the second column until the first one is bulletproof.
If you removed all the fancy UI, would your product still be valuable?
If not, it's not the design—it's the product.
4. Your First Users Aren't Data Points. They're People.
In the early days, we get addicted to the wrong things.
Upvotes. Likes. Page views.
Vanity metrics.
And yes, they feel good for a minute. But a thousand upvotes won't tell you why your product is broken.
A single 15-minute conversation with a real user will.
High-fidelity feedback is the only currency that matters at this stage.
While other founders are broadcasting to the masses, you should be having quiet conversations.
One by one.
It’s what the best community builders call the Law of Connection: you have to touch the heart before you ask for a hand.
And it works.
Instead of sending a welcome email that says "Share us with your friends!", send a personal one that says:
“Hey, I’m the founder. I saw you signed up. I’m incredibly curious—what specific problem are you hoping this will solve for you?”
This reframes the entire relationship. You're not a salesperson. You're a researcher. A partner.
When a user asks for a feature, don't just add it to a list.
Ask them, "Can you walk me through the situation that made you feel you need that?"
Dig for the why. The story. The pain behind the request.
That’s where the gold is.
Tip for you: Your goal this week isn't 100 new signups.
It's two real conversations with users.
Maybe you offer to help them with one of their projects. Maybe you just listen.
Either way, they'll feel it—and so will your product.
Conclusion
Loud marketing might get you clicks.
But a quiet, deliberate focus on the user?
That gets you evangelists—and evangelists last.
Maybe we all need a little less hype, and a little more conversation.
What's the one thing you're overcomplicating in your user acquisition right now?