Coding Is Easy. Blogging Is Hard. Part I.

When Coding Is Easy, But Blogging Isn’t

We all have something that comes naturally. For some, it’s playing the guitar like a rock star. For others, it's spreadsheets that practically sing.

For me, it’s always been coding.

I'm not a genius, just decades of practice. Someone brings me a problem; I break it, build it, test it, ship it, then rinse and repeat.

Then I decided to blog.

Writing? Love it.
Ideas? They ambush me at dawn, fully caffeinated.
Blogging? I assumed it would be coding: solve, ship, repeat.

Spoiler: it wasn’t.

The words flowed easily. The real struggle was owing to the silence afterward. If someone gave me five minutes of their life, I owed them something real, an insight, a connection, a story worth their time. Something that either means something or makes them smile. Otherwise, I’m just journaling.

Why Defining the Problem Matters

The Wake-Up Call I Ignored
When I code, my rule is sacred: Never start with the solution. Start with the problem.

I’ve watched geniuses build pristine apps no one wanted. My method? Listen, understand, and build exactly what’s needed. No selling, just solving.

But blogging? I broke my own rule. I started with my solution (words), assuming readers would flock. I pictured standing ovations. Mic drop!

Instead, the mic wasn't even plugged in. I think even the crickets left early.

I realized that I never really defined what my blog was for. I jumped in, excited to tell stories, but forgot to ask why anyone would listen. Why me over Netflix , TikTok, or even staring at a wall? Without a clear purpose, I was just another voice in the noise. So instead of quitting, I got curious. I asked myself, what kind of stories do I want to tell, and who needs to hear them? That small shift, from self-expression to shared connection, was the true beginning of my journey into storytelling.

The Social Media Circus: Authenticity vs Algorithms

Where Things Got Real (and Ugly)
Enter the attention economy of social media, a carnival where authenticity battles algorithms, and every post feels like whispering into a storm.

For some, this stuff is second nature. For me, it felt like walking into a party where I didn’t know the dress code, the language, or where the exits were. As someone who prefers meaningful conversations over constant self-promotion, “putting myself out there” felt more like performance than connection.

Reddit was my reckoning. I shared a few posts politely, at least I thought so. Reddit's silent moderators disagreed, rewarding me with a swift shadowban.

New account. New rules. Lesson learned.

Now I lead with value, comments, help, and real talk. But trust? Still elusive. On X, my sincerity mostly attracts bots asking, “Hey handsome, where you from?” (Block. Delete. Repeat.)

Could I game the system? Sure. Flood feeds with recycled quotes. Chase trends like a dog after squirrels. But reach ≠ resonance. I’d rather build a campfire than a fireworks show.

The Truth About Doing Hard Things

The Unsexy Truth About Hard Things
Blogging taught me this: Not all difficulty is equal.

• Pointless struggle = quicksand.
• Purposeful struggle = strength.

Angela Duckworth calls it grit. Cal Newport calls it deep work. I call it choosing the itch that’s worth scratching.

For me, blogging was that itch. For you? Maybe launching a product. Starting a YouTube channel. Learning piano. Quitting a soul-crushing job. The key is knowing when to push and when to pivot.

Tips for Sticking With Hard Things

Tips for Not Giving Up (Even When It’s Quiet). When you’re doing something hard (learning, building, starting from scratch), it’s easy to feel discouraged when progress is slow or invisible.

Here’s what I come back to when it gets quiet:

Do something small, every single day.

Momentum doesn’t start with grand gestures; it starts with tiny, repeatable actions. Ten pushups. Fifteen minutes of language study. One email to a potential client. Small steps compound, but only if you stay in motion.

Example: When I first started learning something new, I didn’t aim to master it overnight. I focused on one small challenge, like figuring out how to make a stubborn task work. It wasn’t perfect, but it felt like progress, and that was enough to keep going.

Focus on progress, not applause.

You won’t always get feedback, recognition, or validation, especially early on. That doesn’t mean it’s not working. It just means no one sees it yet. Track your progress: how you’ve improved, what you’ve built, how much more resilient you’ve become.

Example: If you're training for your first 5K marathon, no one cheers during your 6 a.m. solo runs, but the finish line still comes.

Reframe silence and criticism as cues, not stop signs.

When no one reacts, it’s easy to feel invisible. And when someone does react, it’s sometimes just a troll with too much free time. Either way, don’t take it personally. Treat both silence and negativity like feedback, not a final judgment. Often, it's not a lack of effort, just a matter of alignment. Keep adjusting. Keep moving. Keep showing up. Refine your approach, not your identity. Feedback, good, bad, or missing, is just part of the process.

Ask yourself:

• Was the timing, right?
• Was I clear in what I was trying to do?
• Am I reaching the right people or environment for this effort?

Set a high bar but make it reachable.

Big goals are great, but unrealistic ones are sabotaged. Break hard things into small parts. Celebrate the 30%, the 60%, the 90%. Perfection is a moving target. Completion is the real goal and winner.

Example: If you’re writing a book, don’t start by aiming to finish a full chapter each day, that’s a recipe for failure. Instead, commit to something sustainable, like writing for 30 minutes or hitting 500 words. Over time, as the habit sticks, you can build from there. That’s success. Everything beyond that? Bonus points.

Know why you started and keep asking.

Hard things test you. When you’re chasing only likes, praise, or income, burnout comes fast. But if you’re doing it for something that matters to you, you’ll have fuel that lasts longer than motivation.
Example: I didn’t start blogging to go viral. I started because I had something to say, and a burning need to say it. Sharing my experience, even if it reaches just one person, is enough. And if no one’s watching? I’m still winning, because I’m feeding my passion for storytelling and staying true to myself

Enjoying the journey so far?
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Why I’m Jumping into Vlogging (and Into the Unknown)

I'm stepping into the unknown and on purpose. Just as my blog found its rhythm, I’m torching comfort for vlogging. Zero skills. Maximum awkwardness.

Why? Because growth demands new dialects of discomfort.
Will it be messy? Absolutely.
Will I cringe at my own delivery? Guaranteed.

But friction is the point.

What Real Growth Looks Like

Beyond Your Comfort Zone
Whether you’re a coder-turned-blogger, a blogger-turned-coder, or simply someone stepping outside your comfort zone, know this:

• Real traction, whether it’s building an audience, training for a marathon, launching a side project, or learning to speak up in meetings, requires discomfort.
• That resistance you feel. It’s not a detour. It’s the work.
• There’s more than one kind of growth. You can chase fast metrics and easy wins, or you can build something meaningful that lasts. I’m choosing the slower, authentic path, not because it’s easier, but because it’s real.
• Quick wins seldom come easy, and they rarely matter. What does matter is showing up, doing the hard work, and letting the effort become its own reward.

One Final Mention: Keep Going

So, wherever you are, mid-marathon, mid-draft, midlife reinvention, know that doing hard things isn't a flaw in your process. It's the process. The mess, the silence, the setbacks? They're not evidence that you're failing. They are proof that you're in the game. Always choose effort over ease, purpose over praise. And that alone makes you someone worth rooting for.

I learnt that you don’t need applause to keep going. You need clarity, patience, and grit. The results will come, maybe not always fast, and loud, but they will show up. So, stay with it. Choose the long road. And let the journey challenge and change you.

Stay nerdy. Stay bold. Stay kind. And keep growing. 

The Quiet Power of Showing Up

TL; DR: Coding Is Easy. Blogging Is Hard.

• The hardest things often offer the most growth, but only when they’re meaningful.
• Silence and setbacks are signals, not reasons to quit.
• Focus on consistent effort, not quick wins.
• Whether you’re building an audience or training for a marathon, remember that discomfort is part of the deal.
• Choose authenticity over speed. It lasts longer.