Am I Doing Enough?
I ask myself this question almost every day.
Not in a dramatic, staring-at-the-ceiling way. More like a quiet hum that runs in the background while I'm working. While I'm on a call. While I'm eating dinner. While I'm doing absolutely nothing.
Am I really doing enough?
I'm 28. I run growth across five SaaS products for a portfolio that's crossed a million dollars in monthly revenue. I'm building my own product on the side, SignWith, which just crossed 800 users.
I've freelanced, built agencies, started and shut down companies, and worked with some of the biggest founders and creators on the internet.
And I still don't have an answer.
If you've ever felt this, even once, you'll relate. Because I've been chasing this question my whole life. And I think I finally understand something about it.
It started when I was a kid.
I grew up in India, which means your report card is basically your personality. But it wasn't just marks for me. I'd look at the kid who was better at cricket and think, I should be doing that too. Then I'd see someone killing it at hockey and think, wait, I'm not doing enough there either.
So I played everything. Cricket, hockey, football, even indoor stuff like shooting. And I got decent at most of it. Not a prodigy, not the best on the team, but I played well. I held my own.
But here's the thing. Every time I got good at something, I'd spot something else I wasn't good at. And the question would come back. Am I doing enough? Maybe I should be doing that thing too.
I wasn't chasing excellence. I was chasing coverage. Like if I could just do enough things well enough, the question would finally shut up.
It didn't.
College was the same story, just louder.
I went to an engineering college, and suddenly the game had more players and more dimensions. Some people were stacking internships. Some were playing sports at a competitive level. Some were partying every weekend and having the time of their lives.
And I'm sitting there doing the math on all three. Am I getting good enough grades? Am I building enough skills? Am I even having enough fun?
That last one is the funniest to me now. I was literally anxious about whether I was having sufficient fun. That's when you know the question has its hooks in you.
Then I got a tech job.
It was boring. I knew it was boring. Everyone around me seemed to know it was boring, too, but the "smart" ones had a plan. They were prepping for an MBA. Studying on weekends. Talking about Ivy League, IIMs, and ISB like it was the next logical step.
So naturally, I started prepping that too. Not because I wanted an MBA. But because I didn't know what else "doing enough" looked like at that stage. And if these smart people were doing it, maybe I was falling behind by not doing it.
That was the pattern. I didn't have my own definition of enough. I just borrowed whatever definition the people around me were using.
Then I found Twitter (now X) in 2021.
And everything broke.
Because suddenly I wasn't comparing myself to the kid in my class or the guy in the next cubicle. I was comparing myself to the entire internet.
Someone's doing $20K a month as an indie hacker. Someone's raised $2M for their new startup. Someone's freelancing from a hotel room in Bali, making more in a month than I've made in my life. Someone's running an agency doing $5M a year just by writing threads for founders.
And then Elon shows up and says he works 90 hours a week minimum, like that's the baseline. 🤯
For the first time in my life, the question "am I doing enough?" had a clear answer.
No. Not even close.
So I started running faster.
I freelanced. Made good money. Burned out and quit.
I started a mental health company. We connected people with psychologists, built real things, and made decent revenue, which was profitable. But it didn't work out. Took an exit.
I started a dev agency with a friend. Never landed a single paying client.
With 2 other people, I started another agency. Hit $10K a month in 3 months. Then it fell apart because we just weren't good partners to each other (that's the polite version)
I built a SaaS product, SignWith. It's been about a year now. Around 800 users. About $1,400 in revenue. Slow. Real. Mine.
Through all of this, there was a pattern I didn't fully see at the time. Every new thing I jumped into required me to learn something I had absolutely no business knowing.
Like, why would a bad developer who has just quit his job decide to start a mental health company in India? But somehow I did.
To run an agency, I had to understand client management, deliverables, scope, reaching out, pitching, and pricing.
To market a SaaS, I had to get into SEO, UX, product thinking, finances, and positioning.
Starting a business in India is relatively straightforward; running it is worse, and closing it is a nightmare. The paperwork, the compliance, the loopholes, the sheer number of moving parts that can drain your energy for months.
I was always struggling with something completely new and executing it on the go. So naturally, things would sometimes blow up in my face.
I was like, okay, this needs to get done, so I guess I'm the person who's going to learn how to do it.
And still, after all of it, am I doing enough?
So, after the agencies and the burnout and the chaos, I went quiet.
I had 1 small gig. 3 hours a week. That was my only source of income for almost a year.
The rest of my time was spent pondering the question. Not "am I doing enough" this time, but "what do I actually want to do?"
And after a lot of uncomfortable silence, I realized something. I can't do just one thing. I'm not wired for it.
The kind of job where you're at a position and you're supposed to do that one thing, do it, and go home.
I've done specialized work before. I've been good at it. But I don't enjoy it. Not fully. Not in a way that makes me want to keep going.
I'm a generalist, and that's not a weakness. That's just what I am.
So I started thinking like one. What does a generalist do when they want to help a business grow?
Here's what I got: they do everything they can. They look at content, product, distribution, SEO, community, positioning, partnerships, retention, activation, churn, and whatever else needs attention that week.
I went deep into the world of growth. Consumed content from people like Lenny Rachitsky, Andrew Chen, Elena Verna, etc. Studied what great growth operators actually do.
And you know what I found?
I sucked at almost all of it.
So I started learning. Again. Like I always do. Piece by piece, executing at whatever scale I was at, figuring things out on the go.
Today, I work as the Head of Growth at a holding company with @tibo_maker.
5 SaaS products. The portfolio has crossed a million in monthly revenue.
I work across content, lead management, SEO things, affiliates, product launches, banging my head on analytics dashboards and thinking about growth features, and whatever else needs to happen that week.
And I'm building on the side too.
It's the most aligned I've ever felt with work.
And almost every day, I still ask myself: Am I doing enough?
I see other growth operators shipping harder. I see founders building faster. I see people my age who seem like they're 3 chapters ahead of me.
The hum is still there.
But here's what I've realized, and I think this is the thing I've been circling my whole life.
The question is never going away.
It's not supposed to.
"Am I doing enough?" is not a bug.
It's the thing that made me play every sport as a kid. It's the thing that made me start companies I had no qualifications to start. It's the thing that made me get into content, SEO and UX and compliance law and client management and product thinking, all because the situation demanded it, and I refused to sit still.
The question was never the problem. The problem was thinking the answer would one day be "yes."
Because if I ever genuinely felt like I was doing enough, I think I'd stop. And stopping sounds a lot worse than the discomfort of always wanting to do better.
But the realization is - someone will always be ahead. Someone will always be doing something I can't even imagine yet. That used to bother me. Now I think it's the whole point.
The answer to "am I doing enough?" is no. It's always going to be no.
And I think I'm finally okay with that.
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