Why “building in public” steadied me this year
This year, I learnt to let the work be seen a little earlier than my comfort would prefer. Not a spectacle—more like opening the curtain a few inches while I’m still arranging the props. That’s how private learning turned into building in public for me: research that didn’t stay in a folder, thinking that didn’t wait for perfect tiles, drafts that became living pages before the flourish.
The surprise was how steadying it felt. Publishing small, honest slices—then returning—took less from me than disappearing into months of private polish. It also made me braver. When your rhythm is to show up with something useful (not complete, not shiny, just useful), the ground doesn’t shift so much under your feet. The loop becomes: learn → show → learn again.
I can trace the shift to a few lived moments. One was the website build itself: my first version of the homepage went live on 16 March 2025, Radiate and Reinvention followed in June, and Rise (finally) in August 2025. Each launch came with a promise to circle back and redo the earlier pages in public—small, honest refinements rather than one big reveal. Learn to Learn—the my learning experiences distilled from all that rebuilding—went live on 1 December and it’s where I’ve kept applying this “teach while you build” approach..
There’s a bit of psychology that matches what I felt. Studies suggest that when we expect to explain or teach something—even briefly—we organise our knowledge more clearly and remember it better. I’m not making a grand claim; I’m noting that narrating a decision as I published helped me learn the decision. It also helped readers trust where the work was going. (If you’re curious about the research, this short summary of a 2014 study is a good doorway: expecting to teach improved recall and organisation of key ideas.) PubMed
I don’t think of “building in public” as vulnerability theatre. For me it’s boundary-led and purpose-led. Boundaries first: I don’t share live material that involves other people’s privacy, and I don’t crowdsource my confidence. I do share thinking in motion when it’s useful for someone else to see how a piece of work takes shape. Purpose: the point isn’t attention; it’s alignment. Publishing earlier forces me to answer, “What is this for, right now?” That question trims a lot of decorative effort.
Here’s the shape the practice took across the year, in human terms.
Smaller first release.
Instead of holding the full argument hostage to a big launch, I shipped one page that did one job well. I called this the minimum lifeline: a version that helps someone today and gives me a natural return point next week. I didn’t pretend it was finished. I marked it as “live—iterating” and kept a visible log of two tiny improvements I’d make next.
Teach while you build.
A short paragraph beside the page explained one decision: what I cut, what I kept, why it served the reader. Writing that paragraph clarified the thing for me, which meant the next change was faster than it would have been in private.
One arrow, not a manifesto.
A practical example from earlier this autumn: I had to ship something “not quite ready” while other priorities crowded the calendar. Old me would have The question I used to end a publish was: “What’s the single arrow from here?” That arrow might be “tighten the meta” or “swap the example for a clearer one.” The smaller the arrow, the more likely I was to return. (A manifesto is heavy to pick back up. An arrow is light.)
A lot of this was born watching the tides. The sea doesn’t apologise for coming and going; it just does its job. I tried to do the same with my work. Show up, do the next useful thing, leave the door open to refine. I noticed that when I went quiet for too long in the name of quality, I lost context and confidence. When I published in smaller steps, I kept both.
What I learnt about trust
People didn’t need perfect pages; they needed to understand my intent. When I narrated reasoning, even briefly, it turned out to be enough for the “you get me” moments I care about: “I see why this exists, I see how to use it, and I see that it will keep improving.” That kind of clarity feels like respect—to the reader and to myself. It also reduces performance pressure, because I’m not promising polish; I’m promising progress.
Where it meets the BB ecosystem
In practice, “building in public” fits my skills mapping habit. The map shows what I actually used and what matters next; a small live page becomes the arrow. Publishing early also keeps me tethered to Rebuild energy inside the Reinvention Hub: the phase where capability grows by being used, not just designed. There’s a humility to Rebuild that suits me—less “ta-da,” more “try this; I’ll be back tomorrow.”
There are, of course, days to keep the curtain shut. Some work asks to be held close until it’s strong enough to stand. The difference now is that I’m choosing that privacy on purpose, not out of fear. Most of the time, a gently public loop serves both the work and the people it’s for.
If you’re considering your own version: start smaller than you think is allowed. Publish something that does one job kindly. Add a two-line note that explains one decision. Pick an arrow and come back. It’s enough.
Explore This Further
🟡 Learn to Learn: Skills Mapping Grid → Explore what you’re already carrying — and where to focus next..
🟡 The Reinvention Hub: Rebuild → supports midlife professionals through unplanned change — by remembering who you are, reconnecting with what matters, and building direction you can trust
People Also Ask
Does building in public mean oversharing?
No. It means purposeful transparency within boundaries. Share decisions and intent, not people’s private details or premature promises. Useful > confessional.
How do I publish before it’s “ready”?
Define a minimum lifeline—one job a page can do today—and add a short note explaining a key decision. Then commit to a single arrow for your next return.
Why narrate decisions out loud?
Brief explanation sharpens your own understanding and helps readers trust the direction. There’s evidence that expecting to teach improves how we organise and recall ideas.
External References
Nestojko, J. F., Bui, D. C., Kornell, N., & Bjork, E. L. (2014). Expecting to teach enhances learning and organization of knowledge in free recall of text passages. Memory & Cognition, 42(7), 1038–1048.. Expecting to Teach
