The part of work no one talks about

Hey friend,

I want to try something a little uncomfortable today.

This is a build-in-public story.

Not a lesson.

Not a framework.

Just me being honest in a way I usually keep to myself.

So if this feels more personal than my usual newsletters, that’s why.

About a year and a half ago, I hit a quiet breaking point.

Nothing dramatic happened. No public failure. No big announcement.

Just… exhaustion.

I was sitting at my desk late one night, staring at my screen, and I remember thinking:

Why does being a creator/coach feel so hard?

Not the work. I love the work.

It was everything around the work.

My setup was a mess.

Tabs everywhere.

Passwords everywhere.

Monthly tool charges hitting my card every month that I couldn’t even explain without opening a spreadsheet.

One tool for email.

Another for landing pages.

Another for digital products.

Another for courses.

Another for community.

Another for scheduling calls.

Every idea required a checklist before it even had a chance.

Want to ship something simple?

Cool. First, connect three tools.

Update automations.

Fix the embed.

Check the checkout.

Hope nothing breaks.

And something always broke.

I’d end days feeling “busy,” but not proud. Full calendar. Empty sense of progress.

And the worst part?

I knew better.

I’ve built businesses. I’ve scaled things. I help other people simplify their work.

Yet here I was, duct-taping my own stack together and telling myself this was just “how it is.”

There was one night that really stuck with me.

I had an idea I was excited about.

One of those rare ones where you feel momentum before you even start.

I opened my laptop… Then opened five tools… Then started logging in…

And the excitement drained out of me.

I closed the laptop instead.

That’s when it hit me.

If the tools are heavy, the ideas never get a fair chance.

So in August 2024, I stopped complaining and decided to start building what is now creatyl.com.

I didn’t post about it. I didn’t tell anyone I was “starting something.”

I just started fixing the problem for myself.

Quietly.

At first, the goal wasn’t big.

I didn’t want to build a company. I just wanted my brain back.

I wanted one place where things lived.

One flow that made sense.

One system that didn’t fight me every step of the way.

The first few months were rough.

I rebuilt things I thought were “done.”

I scrapped features I was sure I needed.

I reworked the same things more times than I want to admit.

There were weeks where progress looked like going backward.

Weeks where I wondered if I was being stubborn instead of smart.

And there was a moment — late one night — where I seriously considered stopping.

Not because it wasn’t working.

But because it was working… slowly.

And slow work doesn’t give you much external validation.

No likes. No comments. No one cheering.

Just you and the problem.

About a year later of building, we quietly opened a beta.

No launch posts. No hype.

Just a great group of people willing to try something unfinished and tell the truth.

Over 100 joined.

And they told the truth.

What confused them. What felt clunky. What felt unnecessary.

Some feedback hit hard. Some made me rethink entire decisions.

But it also confirmed something important:

I wasn’t the only one tired of the chaos.

We spent months fixing small things most people never talk about.

Extra steps.

Unclear flows.

Moments where you had to stop and think, “Wait… what now?”

We obsessed over calm.

Not flashy calm. Functional calm.

The kind where you open your laptop and don’t feel resistance.

Somewhere along the way, something shifted for me personally.

I stopped dreading simple tasks.

I stopped putting off ideas I actually cared about.

I stopped feeling like I had to “gear up” just to create.

My tools stopped demanding attention.

And that freed up something I hadn’t realized I’d lost.

Mental space.

Today, more than 1,100 people are using creatyl.com, which started as a personal frustration.

$55k MRR in just a couple of months out of beta.

I don’t say that with pride. I say it with relief.

Because I use it every day too.

And the biggest change isn’t speed or scale.

It’s how it feels.

My workdays feel quieter. Cleaner. More intentional.

I end days tired — but satisfied.

I’m sharing this because I want to start being more open about what building actually looks like.

Not just the highlights. Not just the announcements.

The second-guessing. The rewrites.

The moments where you choose to fix something instead of pretending it’s fine.

This is something that really helped me while building creatyl:

Step 1: Pick one thing you’ve been avoiding

Not the hardest thing.
The thing you keep pushing to tomorrow.

Writing that email.
Starting that doc.
Recording that video.
Launching that page.

The thing that makes you sigh before you open your laptop.

Step 2: Ask this exact question

Why is this annoying before it’s hard?

Be honest.

Is it because you have to:

Most people think they’re avoiding the work.

They’re actually avoiding the setup.

Step 3: Write down every step before the real work begins

Not the work itself — everything before it.

Example:

This list is usually longer than people realize.

Step 4: Remove or pre-decide one step

Just one.

Not forever. Just for this week.

Examples:

You’re not making the work easier.

You’re making starting easier.

That’s the unlock.

If you’re building something now or plan to in 2026 — a business, a side project, a new chapter — and it feels heavier than it should…

You’re not broken.

You’re probably just carrying too much.

For now, thanks for reading this like a friend instead of a subscriber.

Until next time and with lots of love,

Justin

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