Finding My Inflection Point

Have you ever reached a point where the thing you've been working towards for years... actually happens?

And instead of celebrating, you just sit there thinking, "Wait. What now?"

This question hit me harder than I ever expected it to.

For as long as I can remember, I had a dream: to build. Build apps. Build platforms. Build things that mattered to me. Build a Linux distro. Lead teams. Organize events. Connect people. Solve problems.

That dream shaped everything about me: my energy, my decisions, my identity.

And somewhere along the way, I did it. Not in a grand, headline-worthy way. But in my own way. The dream wasn't some huge Silicon Valley fantasy. It was real, personal, practical. And that made it even more special.

But then something shifted.

When I reached what felt like my childhood finish line, I suddenly felt directionless. I thought I would feel proud. Fulfilled. Energized. But what I actually felt was... off. Not broken. Not burnt out. Just still. Like the wind that had been pushing me forward had stopped, and I hadn't realized how much I depended on it.

No fire under my feet. No clear next milestone. Just a strange emotional fog I couldn't shake off. And that fog lasted for four months.

The Inflection Point

It took me a while to understand what was going on. Looking back, I think I hit a personal inflection point. One of those quiet, internal moments where things don't explode but gently shift direction.

I used to think an inflection point would look like some breakthrough idea or failure or eureka moment. But mine wasn't loud. It was soft. It was a realization that I had outgrown my past dream and hadn't figured out the next one yet.

It left me in limbo. I kept trying to keep things to myself. I didn't post. Didn't share. I told myself: You don't need validation. Be your own motivation.

But here's the truth I kept ignoring: we're human. And humans need expression.

Why I Started Writing

Over these months, I tried to absorb a lot of advice. One of the more common ideas I kept hearing was:

"Don't chase the end goal. Fall in love with the process. Seek joy in the effort, not the reward."

And I tried to live that way. I really did.

But eventually, I had to accept: maybe I'm just not wired that way.

Yes, I love the dopamine of finishing something. Of hearing someone say, "This is great." Of knowing my work made someone feel something. That's not wrong.

What was wrong, though, was how narrow I made the source of that validation. I tied my worth to how one person saw me. When that went silent, I crumbled, faced anxiety, circadian dips. I lost the love I had for myself.

So, I'm not trying to "eliminate" my desire for validation. I'm just trying to channel it better. Healthier. Wider. More sustainable.

Instead of shrinking my world down to one voice, I'm opening it up to many. Friends. A community. Maybe even strangers who resonate with my work or thoughts. If something I create genuinely inspires someone and they choose to let me know, that's beautiful.

That's where this blog comes in.

Writing As a Way Back to Myself

A few weeks ago, I started dumping thoughts into Notion. Not for the world. Just for myself. But I occasionally shared them with a couple of close friends. And something about that felt healing.

It reminded me: sometimes, sharing isn't about ego. It's about clarity.

It's about reconnecting with the part of yourself that wants to be seen, even if it's just by a few people. Even if it's just so you remember: "I exist. I feel. I'm here."

So this blog isn't some grand content strategy. It's just a mirror. A place where I can collect thoughts, trace patterns, and hopefully stumble upon a few new paths forward.

I'll be writing once a week or so. Nothing fancy. Just reflections, observations, thoughts that won't leave my head until I write them out.

You can find the blog here: 👉 blog.onkaryaglewad.in

What Else I'm Up To

Alongside all this, I've also started working on something new, a platform in the events space. It's early. It's raw. It's not pitch-deck-ready yet. But it excites me. And sharing it here is just a personal push to take it seriously, to commit a little harder.

Making it public is my version of accountability.

Closing Thoughts

To anyone reading this, if you're also in a fog, or drifting after reaching a personal milestone, or figuring out how to stop relying on one source of validation, I get it. You're not alone.

Thank you to those who stood by me quietly over the past few months. My sister. A few close friends. You know who you are. You reminded me that I could still build again. Just differently this time.

If anything here resonated, and you feel like chatting, I'm always around. Hit me up. I love thoughtful conversations about the messy, honest stuff. 💬

Until next time,

Onkar