There is a folder on my machine nobody has ever seen.
It holds some of the best work I have done. A system that runs itself, tested to the edges, the kind of thing I would be proud to show anyone.
I have shown it to no one.
You might have a folder like that too.
A side project that actually works. A write-up you finished and never posted. Something you would happily build again from scratch, sitting quietly where the only critic is you.
Building it was never the hard part.
The part I am less proud of
I will spend a week shipping something genuinely hard in private, then freeze for another week on the one paragraph that announces it.
Working in private feels safe. Nobody is watching. Every decision is mine, and the only judge is whether the thing runs.
Publishing feels like the opposite. Once it goes public it can be seen, misread, ignored, or judged. So my finger hovers over publish, and the tab stays open for days.
I can describe the exact shape of the freeze.
A draft is written. It reads fine. I scan it one more time, find nothing actually wrong, and close the tab anyway. Tomorrow, I tell myself. Tomorrow I will post it with a clearer head.
Next day the draft is still sitting there, a little staler, a little heavier to touch.
This is not a skill problem
Here is the uncomfortable admission.
I have shipped real systems for enterprises and earned a few titles I did not fake. None of that turns the freeze off.
I could always build. Being seen was the wall.
For most of last year my best work had an audience of one. My private folder kept growing. My public trail stayed almost empty. Two very different graphs from the same pair of hands.
That gap measures the real problem better than anything on my resume.
What I finally understood
Shipping in private is practice. Shipping in public is the actual game.
A thing only starts to count once someone other than me can find it, use it, argue with it. A freeze does not protect the work. It only buries it.
That reframed the whole thing for me. My work was never hiding from the world. I was.
A line from a film stuck with me this week. Use your gift to connect people.
A gift kept where no one can reach it connects no one. That is what the private folder quietly costs me, and costs the person it could have reached.
What I changed
So I rewrote one rule for myself.
Working is no longer my bar for done. One stranger being able to see it is.
Publishing moved from an optional last step into the definition of finished. Some days crossing that line still feels like dragging myself over it. Crossing it anyway is the entire point.
This post you are reading is me obeying my own rule.
Your turn
What is sitting in your private folder right now that nobody has seen?
If this was useful
I work through this in public, the wins and the freezes both, mostly on LinkedIn and YouTube. If the real version of building in the open is useful to you, that is where it lives. Find me on X, GitHub, and the work at next8n.com.
