What happens when building becomes your identity, not your job title.
I don't remember the first time I wrote a line of code. I remember the feeling, though. It was the same feeling I got the first time I closed a deal, the first time I launched something people actually used, the first time I watched a system I designed start running without me. It's the feeling of making something exist that didn't before. That's the whole thing. That's why I build.
I was fourteen. Most of my friends were doing normal fourteen-year-old things. I was the youngest of eight kids in a religious family, which means I grew up watching everyone else figure out their lives before I got a chance to figure out mine. That does something to you. You either settle into the youngest-kid role, the one who gets carried, the one who benefits from everyone else's lessons, or you decide, somewhere deep and maybe a little irrational, that you're going to prove something.
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