Ship, Don’t Stall: The High-Agency Cadence That Changed My Startup Trajectory

The real bottleneck isn’t the lack of opportunity, not now, not ever. It’s agency. That’s the thing Shaan and Sam hammer every week, sometimes almost to the point where I roll my eyes—but it’s true. Nobody’s waiting to hand us perfect conditions.

And honestly, even now—after stacking years in startups and surviving a few near-deaths—I still catch myself drifting to polish. I’ll waste a whole afternoon fiddling with colors on a landing page, telling myself I’m just “tightening up the UX,” but really I’m just avoiding the hard part. Every time I notice, I have to reset and choose movement again.

Here’s the plan to overcome perfectionism and ship, for you and for me. High agency trumps “big” ideas. Start shipping small, imperfect things. Let feedback push the next step. Momentum will outpace anything perfectionism ever promised.

How Perfectionism Stalls Builders—And How Public Output Helps You Overcome Perfectionism and Ship

You know that weird gray zone, right? It feels like you’re doing the work—waiting for a breakthrough idea, sketching out the “real” logo, or strategizing that perfect pitch for imaginary investors. I used to think these things counted as progress. But nothing ever shipped. No feedback, no results, just the illusion that the next tweak would finally work.

Buying domains or drafting pitch decks feels like execution, but it won’t break planning paralysis. Most treat it as the badge—now you’re legit, right? But these are just receipts for more planning. None of it actually moves the needle, because ideas only get real when someone else pokes at your first rough version.

I get the fear. You don’t want to ship imperfect work with your name on it. But the truth is, imperfect work doesn’t haunt your reputation. If anything, it proves you’re the builder who actually moves. The ones who ship, learn, and fix in public become known for action, not artifacts. You earn trust by showing you’re willing to be seen learning, not by hiding your rough drafts.

Worried about the daily time cost? Here’s the model that got me out of my own head. Real builders build momentum fast, compounding like gradient descent. You drop an output every day, even if it’s embarrassingly small, and each step cuts uncertainty, shaves off anxiety, and gets you insight faster than waiting for a “clean” shot at success. Moving fast isn’t just a hack. It intentionally compounds learning, as the Build–Measure–Learn loop makes speed central to real customer development. The velocity doesn’t just add up. It multiplies everything you learn, every connection made, every opportunity spotted. You chip at the unknown and each tiny experiment builds on the last. Ship now, course-correct tomorrow.

And forget the big-idea myth. If anything, watching that parade of offbeat wins on My First Million is proof: novelty isn’t what keeps most people out of the race—shipping is. Shaan Puri’s mantra plays over and over in my head: you only get luck and advantage by executing, not by waiting for some stroke of inspiration next week. Each weird idea shipped formed a foundation, not a gamble. That’s the real unlock.

Momentum Over Perfection: How Shipping Tiny Outputs Beats Planning

High agency is simple. It’s a bias toward action, a habit of moving something forward today. What I call getting after it. Don’t mistake it for hustle theater. It’s about actually doing the next thing, not just thinking about it.

If you want to build momentum, start with something visible and done. Ship a feature, send a cold DM to a potential user, post a video demo—today. Doesn’t matter if it feels tiny or awkward. You’re not waiting for branding, or for investor mood swings, or for your grand vision to make sense. Pick an output that gets your idea into the world. By tomorrow, you’ll have actual feedback. Next week, you’ll be ten cycles deeper than the “perfect plan” ever got you.

Here’s the long-game truth, as direct as I can say it. You become a multiyear overnight success by pushing half-baked ideas into the world and learning fast. So get after it—today.

A System for Output, Accountability, and Real Momentum

Now, here’s the move that keeps the whole cadence honest. Commit in public. It’s easy to ship when you’re fired up, harder when you’re frustrated or stuck. So make your output a promise, not just a hope—tweet your goal each morning, share a daily standup, or send a nightly demo to your group chat. When the urge to stall hits, public commitment snaps you back. I’ve found that sharing progress openly flips execution on its head. You start prioritizing consistency over perfection. That callback to Shaan’s “build in public” isn’t just for Twitter clout. It’s pure accountability.

Every friction point has an excuse waiting. I’m tired. The idea sucks. I’m not ready. Someone might judge. So write every reason to stop straight onto a page or a sticky note. Log your excuses and keep moving. It’s embarrassingly effective—the moment you admit the mental block, you rob it of power. Sometimes my list runs half a page, but I still ship. That’s the cycle to trust: excuses out, output in.

Burnout isn’t the price of momentum. Scale output down when the day overwhelms, and rotate effort—switch from coding to design, from outreach to documentation. Small, steady reps beat heroic sprints every time; I learned that the hard way by pushing too big and wiping out motivation for days. Honestly, I still swing too hard sometimes. The key is, shipping something tiny is infinitely better than not shipping at all—just reset quickly after misses and keep going. I wish someone had told me sooner: the compounding effect comes from staying in the game, not spiking once and crashing. Ship regularly, stay visible, and the cadence sustains itself. No drama. No burnout. Just quiet, relentless progress.

Ship Public, Compound Progress: Resolve the Last Friction

Forget the reputational paranoia. Shipping small and often shows you’re dependable because you overcome perfectionism and ship. People actually trust the builders who put their process out there, mistakes included, because it proves you’ll keep learning. That callback to high agency. It’s not “I know everything.” It’s “I won’t hide from improvement.”

If you want measurement, keep it tight and actionable. Log daily outputs (even if they’re just a tweet or a quick demo), count feedback cycles, and note iteration speed. Don’t obsess over your branding or “perfect” launch—the magic is how fast you loop from ship to refine. That’s straight Lean Startup, where the Build–Measure–Learn loop makes speed central to real customer development, and each experiment shortens the path to progress. Your timeline isn’t about how long you worked—it’s how quickly you picked up new signals. The compounding happens because you’re shrinking “unknowns,” not polishing logos.

Here’s your pattern: ship a tiny demo. That demo sparks someone’s question (“Does it do X?”), which gives you the next feature to build, which could earn you your first user or customer. This chain only works if the first link hits the world. So put out something—however rough—today and start with tiny daily habits. Seriously, send a loom walk-through, post a proof-of-concept, or DM an MVP to a friend. The only way the chain forms is by shipping now.

Momentum stacks, but only if you move. You’ll get leverage by shipping something today—don’t wait, start the loop, and let tomorrow’s feedback show you what’s next.

Some days I still wonder if I’m moving too fast and missing something big. But speed, even imperfect speed, has always gotten me further than waiting for the clean shot. That tension never fully goes away, and maybe that’s fine.