Why I Started Building Again

I've always been a square peg in a round hole.

As a software engineer, I was frustrated with product managers who seemed disconnected from how things actually got built. As an engineering manager, I discovered I genuinely don't enjoy managing people. As a product manager, I was frustrated with engineers who'd quote months for things I knew I could build myself in a week.

No role ever quite fit. I wanted to deliver results, and every organizational structure seemed designed to slow that down.

The off-roadmap years

I transitioned into product management thinking I'd finally have influence over what got built. Instead, I found the roadmapping process so disconnected from reality that I mostly avoided it. I became an expert in what I called "off-roadmap initiatives" - getting engineers to work on things not because they were approved, but because they were obviously the right thing to do.

When that didn't work, I just built things myself. Internal tools. Spreadsheet analyses. Quick prototypes. Anything to move the ball forward and help people understand my ideas.

At first I was met with mild amusement. A pat on the back. Strange looks. People didn't quite know how to explain to me that this wasn't what a product manager was supposed to be doing.

I didn't care. The business needs were being met.

The pushback

Not everyone appreciated my approach. My engineering partners pushed back hard at first - and honestly, they had a point.

On one hand, I was calling them out by building things they couldn't or wouldn't build for me. On the other hand, they'd inherit ownership of these tools, and since they didn't build them, they weren't happy when my code didn't conform to their standards and processes.

In fairness, I didn't build the best software. It was quick and dirty. But quick and dirty was the point - I was trying to demonstrate a different way of working, one where we could actually ship things fast.

Here's the thing I learned about myself through all of this: I probably did think I was smarter than everyone else. Those "idiots" who couldn't see what I was seeing. But as I moved through different roles - engineering, management, product - I started to understand the bigger picture. Their concerns were legitimate. I had blind spots too.

Over time, I learned to bring people in earlier. I earned their respect by understanding their perspective, not just steamrolling past it. I got better at collaboration. And they pushed harder to ship things so I didn't have to build everything myself.

The cost

But even when it worked, it came at a personal cost.

Late nights and weekends that leadership never really appreciated. They wanted their engineers to be engineers, their analysts to be analysts, and their product managers to be product managers. Here I was trying to act like all four at once.

And then there was the payback for all my silliness: some change somewhere would break one of my tools - tools that had quietly become critical infrastructure for my colleagues. I was the only one who knew how to fix them. Nobody to blame but myself.

The shift

Fast forward to now, and something has fundamentally changed.

AI hasn't just made coding easier. It's legitimized the way I always wanted to work.

What used to take me nights and weekends - learning frameworks, debugging obscure errors, stitching together systems - now happens in hours. I don't have to build and learn everything myself. I just need to conduct things. Type my endless stream of ideas and collaborate with AI agents to get it done.

The behavior that used to get me weird looks? It's becoming the new normal. Vibecoding is a superpower for anyone who's ever felt trapped by organizational dysfunction - who knew what needed to be built but couldn't get the machine to build it.

Why I'm building again

So I've gone independent. Started Signal Foundry to build products my own way.

Not because I think I have all the answers. I've learned enough humility to know better. But because I think the best way to understand this moment is to build through it.

I'm 25 years into my career. I could coast. Instead, I'm learning new tools, shipping things with my name on them, and having more fun than I've had in years.

No more wading through frameworks or chasing obscure bugs alone. Just this incredible power to create things on demand. For someone with too many ideas and too much energy, there's never been a more exciting time.

I'm building again. And I'm loving it.