How I Learned to Stop Building Hobbies and Start a Business
I used to think every great idea started with personal frustration. That nagging inconvenience, that clunky spreadsheet, that service that just didn't work right—that was startup gold. "Scratch your own itch," the gurus chanted.
So I scratched. And for years, I built elegant solutions for an audience of one: me.
Then I realized something: I was doing it all wrong.
The Problem with "Scratching Your Own Itch"
Most startup advice romanticizes the visionary founder who solves their own problem. It’s a great story. It feels intuitive. And it’s the reason most founders build beautiful products that nobody wants.
The real issue isn't that your problems aren't real—it's that you've mistaken a personal pet peeve for a hair-on-fire market need. And when you spend six months building a solution for your own pet peeve, you can't be surprised when you launch to the sound of crickets.
The startup graveyard is littered with these well-intentioned hobbies. Remember that $400 Wi-Fi-enabled juicer? That was a founder scratching a very, very expensive itch. It was a masterpiece of engineering designed to solve a problem almost no one believed was a problem. It failed not because the tech was bad, but because it was a solution in search of a real issue.
What Actually Works: Three Questions That Save You From Yourself
Instead of polishing a solution in a vacuum, you need to get out of your own head. It all comes down to asking the right questions—not about your idea, but about other people’s pain.
1. "Who else has this problem?" (And is it a big enough group?)
Instead of assuming everyone feels your pain, find out if you’ve actually got company. Is this a "you" problem or a "we" problem?
I’ve seen founders get honest and realize their pain was unique:
"My first three failed startups were all trying to fix things that only I cared about."
"I built an app for a specific workflow I had. Turns out, I was the only one with that workflow."
These realizations hurt, but they save you from wasting years building something for a market that doesn’t exist.
The key: Your personal itch is a hypothesis, not a conclusion. Your first job is to find the tribe that shares it.
2. "What are they doing about it right now?"
This is the single most important question you can ask. If people aren't actively trying to solve the problem, the pain isn't strong enough. Complaining is free. Action is a signal.
Look for signs of desperation:
Are they duct-taping together three different apps to get the job done?
Have they built a monstrous spreadsheet that makes your eyes water?
Are they searching forums and asking for recommendations?
If the answer is "nothing," they're just dealing with a mild annoyance. You're trying to sell a vitamin. If they're actively hacking together a solution, they have a hair-on-fire problem. They need a painkiller.
The key: Look for people who are already trying (and failing) to solve the problem. That's your opening.
3. "Would they pay to make it go away?"
Your friends will say your idea is "cool." Strangers on a survey will say they "would use it." This feedback is worthless.
The only validation that matters is a credit card. Willingness to pay separates a "nice-to-have" toy from a "must-have" tool. Before you write a line of code, test this.
How you can do it:
The Pre-Sale Page: Set up a landing page explaining the outcome you provide. Instead of a "Sign Up" button, use a "Pre-Order Now for $49" button. If people click, you've hit a nerve.
The Concierge Service: Don't build the software. Be the software. Manually deliver the result to a few paying clients. This not only proves people will pay, it teaches you exactly what parts of your solution are actually valuable.
The key: Stop asking people what they would do and start watching what they do. Money is the only honest feedback.
The Real Rules of Customer Discovery
Every market is different, but here’s what actually matters when you're trying to validate a problem:
Your idea is a secret. The moment you pitch your idea, the conversation is over. You'll get polite feedback, not the truth. Your only job is to learn about their world, their workflow, and their frustrations.
Talk to strangers. Your mom will lie to you. Your friends will lie to you. They want to be supportive. Find people who have no reason to protect your feelings.
Ask about the past. Don't ask, "Would you use an app that..." Ask, "Walk me through the last time you..." Past behavior is fact. Future intention is fiction.
Accept that your first idea is probably wrong. You'll likely discover the problem you thought existed isn't the real one. That's not failure. That's progress.
What This Actually Looks Like
Here’s a real example from my own journey:
I had an idea for a tool to help freelancers create better proposals. I was obsessed with the design and layout. I was convinced this was the problem.
Before building, I forced myself to talk to 10 freelance designers. I never mentioned my idea. I just asked, "Walk me through your last big proposal. What was the most frustrating part?"
Not a single one mentioned design. They all complained about figuring out what to charge and how to price their services. Their pain wasn't presentation; it was pricing.
Result: I completely scrapped my original idea. I avoided wasting 6 months building a "prettier proposals" tool nobody would have paid for. The conversations led me to a real, painful problem that I eventually built a business around.
The Long Game
Problem validation isn't a one-time checklist. It’s a mindset. It's about becoming a recognized, helpful investigator in the world where your potential customers live.
This takes time. Weeks, not hours. But the payoff is real: you build something you know people need, because they told you so.
Getting Started (Without Building a Thing)
Pick one idea that came from your own "itch."
Frame it as a testable hypothesis. ("I believe [customer] struggles with [problem] and currently uses [workaround].")
Spend a week finding 5 strangers who fit that customer profile.
Talk to them. Ask about their life and their problems. Don't mention your idea once.
Be patient and listen.
That's it. No "visionary genius." No "building in stealth." Just showing up, asking good questions, and listening.
The Bottom Line
"Scratch your own itch" works when you're just a part of a huge, obvious market. For everyone else, it's a trap that confuses a hobby with a business.
The best founders don't fall in love with their solutions. They fall in love with their customers' problems.
And that’s not a strategy you can hack—it’s just listening.