Yesterday I did 14 cold approaches on the street.
And somewhere along the way, I entered "god mode".
That wonderful, almost ridiculous state where the world opens up, conversations flow, women smile, and I feel like the most natural version of myself.
After the week I've had, I fucking needed that.
The week behind me
Because lately I've been wondering whether anybody wants what I have to offer. Not so much romantically, actually. Professionally.
And that's a strange thing to admit, considering how much I've accomplished over the last couple of years.
I've built more software than at any other point in my long career in technology. Entire applications. AI systems. Things that would have required teams of developers not very long ago.
I've fallen completely in love with building software again.
And somehow, at the same time, I've become increasingly miserable about work.
Quite an achievement.
Italy and home
I came home from Italy a few days ago. Seven days with Kurt, a lot of socializing, and not enough time to myself, and by the end I was running on empty. My eyes had practically disappeared into my skull.
I cried on the flight home. Then again when I got home.
I've been trying to understand why. I keep returning to the five pillars of my life.
The five pillars
Dog. Girlfriend. Family. Friends. Work.
Bella, my dog, is gone. She died in a car accident. Agata, my ex, is gone too, although I was the one who ended it.
Those are huge losses, of course. But I've been single before. I've lived without a dog before. And I've been perfectly capable of having a lively life during those periods.
Friends and family
Family feels a little distant, one relationship in particular, but we're meeting in December.
Friends are a little complicated. Stuart and I have had a little distance lately, and I wonder whether something I said landed differently than I meant it. I meant it lovingly, but perhaps he felt criticized.
Kurt and I discovered in Italy that we have somewhat different rhythms in life; I need daygame and am used to more time to myself.
And yesterday, out approaching together, Lars and I were a little bit in different modes. I was flying around Oslo doing 14 approaches, getting increasingly energized. He was in a quieter, more family-focused mood.
Which is lovely. But it wasn't exactly the day for two guys to be running around the city feeding off each other's excitement.
I'm meeting Leif today. I'll probably do some daygame first, because that's what I want to do, and then enjoy an evening with my friend.
Where the pain sits
So what's really hurting?
Work.
I think it's work.
Trying to win work
At my day job, I've been trying to create opportunities around AI. And I mean really trying.
Building projects. Demonstrating capabilities. Contacting companies. Pitching ideas. Trying to sell myself, trying to sell my day job, trying to convince people that there's an entirely new way of building software.
And getting very little back.
A possible freelance opportunity appears. Fantastic. Then nothing. Another one. Silence.
A recruiter contacts me. I reply. Nothing happens.
I go to a job interview. They seem interested. They even look at my online profile. And then... nothing.
At my day job, we're struggling to sell AI projects too. We might finally have landed one. We had a workshop with the customer on Friday.
Something I should have been excited about. Instead, I was so exhausted from Italy and everything else that I felt I wasn't really present.
The customer workshop
And now I'm worrying that the customer noticed. Maybe they'll get cold feet. Maybe they'll postpone until next year. Maybe they'll find someone else.
I don't know. I don't actually know what they thought.
But that's where my mind goes these days.
And even if they say yes, I'm not sure it will fix what's happening inside me.
Losing faith in work
Because something has changed. I've lost faith in my day job's ability to create the kind of professional life I want.
My day job has gone through some changes. We used to be a small team. Now it's becoming something else.
But I don't think the changes are the real problem. If my day job suddenly won five AI projects tomorrow, I'd be delighted. I'd feel wanted again.
Yet I suspect something would still be missing.
The side project
Because there's another project that matters even more personally. One of my side projects.
Something I've built for people like me. 13 years of my own experience, combined with everything I've learned about building software.
It's probably the most personal product I've ever created. And I genuinely think it's fantastic.
My friends think so too. Lars uses it. Stuart uses it. Other people close to me have been enthusiastic.
But friends aren't quite the validation I'm looking for. I want a stranger. Someone who has no reason to be nice to me. Someone who discovers it and says:
"Holy fuck. This is exactly what I've been looking for."
I've contacted coaches. People in the community. Potential partners. And so far, almost nothing.
I've started experimenting with advertising too. Very little traction.
Why selling feels hard
Because I can build all these things now. I can take an idea and turn it into a working product. But I can't make somebody want it. And that is a completely different skill.
Sometimes I wonder whether I've simply become a man who builds impressive things that nobody actually needs. Whether all my enthusiasm is just hot air.
Many public code repositories. Several AI projects. My side project.
And where are the customers? Where's the money? Where's the proof that the world wants any of this?
It's a horrible question to ask yourself when you've put so much of your identity into creating things.
But something interesting happened over the last two days. I started participating more actively on Reddit.
Talking. Answering questions. Sharing what I've learned from 13 years of approaching women.
And I found myself enjoying it enormously.
There are a lot of guys who want to talk about these things.
And suddenly I'm the experienced guy. The one who's been doing this for many years.
I've been honest with everyone. Warm. Encouraging. Giving any advice I have, sharing experiences, sending a little love everyone's way.
And many have responded. Actual conversations.
9 new users
And 9 new users in my side project!
For the first time in a while, I wasn't trying desperately to convince somebody that I had something valuable. I was simply sharing it.
Funny how much that matters.
Daygame again
Then yesterday I went daygaming. 14 approaches.
I was a little rusty at first. I'd been feeling terrible for days, and even though my energy was returning, I wasn't yet in that deeply relaxed state I sometimes reach after several consecutive days of going out.
On approach #6, I met a woman. I managed to stay in the conversation. That was important.
I've sometimes had this habit of leaving too quickly, almost as though the very thing I want becomes frightening once it's actually happening. This time I stayed longer.
There was a connection. But I was talking too fast. Still a little restless. And I think I left too early anyway.
She didn't respond afterward. Okay.
Meeting Ioana
Then I approached a tall Eastern European woman. Ioana. A name I absolutely love, for the record.
The conversation was even shorter.
And afterward I thought: Ah, fuck. Another one where I left too quickly.
I sent her a message on Instagram. "Nice to meet you ;)"
Several hours later, she replied. "Hehe 😊"
Not exactly a marriage proposal. But something.
Telling the truth
And then I decided to do something I increasingly appreciate about myself. Tell the truth.
I wrote: "I know it was short 😅 I have to admit that it's very scary to do that, so it makes me want to run away - even though I want to get to know you."
And she responded beautifully. She thought it was sweet. She said things like that never happen in Oslo.
And then something even nicer. She wished they happened more often. Compliments from strangers were the best, she said. I told her I loved hearing that.
And the conversation just started flowing. She asked whether I was English. I explained that I was Norwegian, but felt increasingly international after all my travels.
We joked about Norwegian dating culture. About how people don't dare approach each other. She told me she'd actually done it herself when she was new to the country, before realizing that apparently people don't do that here.
And she said something I really liked. She and a single girlfriend had recently been talking about how they wished more people would just walk up to someone they found attractive and say hello.
Imagine that.
What she'd been wishing for
I've spent 13 years doing something that can feel terrifying, awkward and socially forbidden. And here was a woman telling me she'd been wishing men would do exactly that.
She even said I'd made her day better.
I'd made her day better.
Just by walking over and giving her a compliment.
Her story
And then she told me she was recently single after a long relationship. That she'd taken some months for herself. That she was starting to think it might be time to date again.
She asked how I dated. And we kept talking.
Warmly. Playfully. Naturally.
There's no guarantee anything romantic will come of it. We haven't even been on a date. But I really like her energy.
She seems relaxed. Secure. Open.
And after some of the complicated dynamics I've experienced in relationships lately, that feels particularly attractive.
Two different worlds
There's something almost absurd about the contrast between my professional life and my daygame life right now.
At work, I spend months trying to convince people to buy my services. I build things. I write proposals. I attend meetings. I follow up. And mostly hear silence.
Yesterday I walked up to a beautiful stranger, talked to her for perhaps a minute, admitted afterward that I was nervous, and she told me I'd made her day.
One minute.
Compared with months of professional effort. And somehow the one-minute conversation gave me more emotional reward.
Why daygame matters
Maybe that's why daygame has always been so important to me. It's immediate. It's real. There's another human being standing right there.
You take a chance, and sometimes something beautiful happens. And even when it doesn't, you've participated in life. You've done something. You've created a possibility.
It's also interesting that Ioana responded so warmly to my vulnerability. I wasn't perfectly calm. I wasn't delivering some flawless, confident performance. I was a little nervous. I left too early. And then I told her. And she liked it.
Perhaps there's a lesson in that. I've spent years chasing that extraordinary state where I feel completely secure, charismatic and overflowing with energy. And I still love that state. Yesterday I got there.
But the connection with Ioana didn't require perfection. She liked the fact that I dared. Even while being scared.
That's rather lovely.
Where that leaves me
So where does that leave me? I think I've been experiencing a professional crisis of confidence. But perhaps I've been asking the wrong question.
I've been asking whether I'm actually good at what I do. Whether my enthusiasm is just hot air. Whether I've been fooling myself about my abilities.
The real question is whether I can find the right customers, company or audience for what I can do. That's a different problem.
What I need now
I don't think the changes at my day job are going to determine my happiness. I don't think one customer saying yes or no will either. I think I need to find a professional environment where my abilities are genuinely wanted.
And I want to give my side project a real chance to become something. Something people use. Something people love.
I'm meeting Leif later. Before that, I think I'll go out and do some daygame. Because yesterday reminded me of something.
I can feel absolutely miserable on Thursday. Exhausted and uncertain on Friday. And by Saturday afternoon, be walking around Oslo in god mode, approaching beautiful women, laughing, flirting and feeling like life is the most wonderful adventure imaginable.
What a ridiculous creature I am. But also, what a wonderful thing to be able to experience.
Who is responding
And somewhere in Oslo there's a tall Eastern European woman who thinks it's sweet that I walked up to her. Who told me I made her day. Who seems to appreciate exactly the kind of spontaneity I've spent 13 years trying to bring into the world.
And somewhere online there are guys who think my experience is worth listening to. And somewhere inside my side project there are 9 new users who weren't there two days ago.
Perhaps the world has been responding a little more than I've given it credit for. Perhaps I'm just exhausted from waiting for the professional part of my life to catch up.
I still want the customers. I still want the projects. I still want the app to succeed. And I still want that wonderful woman who chooses me.
But yesterday gave me something I've been missing. The feeling that what I bring into the world is genuinely appreciated.
A little advice. A little courage. A little kindness. A little flirting.
And someone on the other side saying: "That made my day better."
After months of trying to sell myself, it's a rather beautiful thing to hear.
And perhaps the most encouraging part is that I didn't have to invent some new version of myself to make it happen. I just had to go outside. And be me.