Alex Cloudstar

At what point does a side project stop being “just a side project”?

Many products start as experiments built at night or on weekends.

At first, there’s no pressure just curiosity and momentum.

But at some point, expectations creep in: users, revenue goals, support, roadmap decisions.

That’s usually when it starts to feel more like a responsibility than a hobby.

How do you personally decide when a side project deserves serious commitment or when it’s better to keep it lightweight and experimental?

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Nika

I think as soon as it is able to pay your bills + hire another person.

Alex Cloudstar

@busmark_w_nika That is a very practical line, and honestly a healthy one. When it can sustain you and another person, it is no longer an experiment, it is a business. Until then, I like treating it as a learning playground without putting too much pressure on it.

Markus Kask

When you decide to commit fully, despite the risk? The leap from: This might be something to - Let's see if this actualy is something

Alex Cloudstar

@markus_kask That moment is real. For me, it’s when curiosity turns into responsibility. You stop asking “could this work?” and start asking “what happens if I don’t give it a real shot?” That’s usually the leap.

Markus Kask
@alexcloudstar When obsession hits, you have to follow it
Alex Cloudstar

@markus_kask Absolutely. Obsession is usually the clearest signal. Once it occupies your thoughts more than casual curiosity, that’s when the leap feels necessary.

Dickemar Alee

For me, a side project stops being "just a side project" when I start planning my days around it. If I'm waking up thinking about users instead of ideas, that's the signal. Until then, I keep it playful and pressure-free.

Alex Cloudstar

@dick_carville Love that. Planning your day around it is such a tangible sign. For me, that shift from play to responsibility is when I start treating it seriously.

Bashiri Abdullahi

I know it's time to commit when I feel more responsibility than curiosity. The moment users depend on me, I pause and ask myself: do I want this obligation or do I want freedom? My answer decides everything.

Alex Cloudstar

@bashiri_abdullahi Couldn’t agree more. That balance between responsibility and freedom is key. Once users actually depend on you, it’s a clear decision point.

Tish Vivenzio

Personally, it changes when I'm afraid to ignore it. If skipping a week feels wrong or stressful, it's no longer lightweight. That's when I either step up seriously or intentionally scale my expectations back.

Alex Cloudstar

@tish_vivenzio Exactly. That feeling of stress when you ignore it is a sign the project has crossed into real territory. Either step up or consciously scale expectations.

Steven Granata

For me, the line is emotional, not financial. When I care deeply about outcomes instead of learning, it's no longer a hobby. If the fun disappears, I either recommit with purpose or let it stay experimental.

Alex Cloudstar

@steven_granata Spot on. When emotion outweighs curiosity, the project demands real commitment. Fun is still important, but responsibility starts to shape decisions.

Tanya Sharath

I treat it as serious when it consistently earns attention without forcing it. If users show up on their own and I still enjoy working on it, I lean in. Otherwise, I protect my time and keep it small.

Alex Cloudstar

@tanya_sharath That’s a great metric. If people show up without forcing it and you still enjoy it, it’s worth leaning in. Otherwise, keeping it small preserves sanity and focus.

Yung Ruwala

A side project becomes real for me when I start saying "no" to other things because of it. That tradeoff forces honesty. If it deserves that sacrifice, I commit. If not, I loosen my grip.

Alex Cloudstar

@yung_ruwala Perfect. Saying “no” to other things is a tough but honest way to measure commitment. If it’s worth the tradeoff, it deserves full attention.

Dushyant Khinchi

@alexcloudstar I’ve felt that shift very clearly while building my own startup.

It started the way most side projects do - late nights, curiosity, just trying to see if an idea had any life in it. In that phase, everything feels optional. You can skip a week, pivot wildly, or throw features away without it hurting anything.

The moment it stopped feeling like a side project for me wasn’t when I made money - it was when other people started quietly depending on it.

When users come back not just to try something, but because it’s now part of how they think, work, or organize their day, the stakes change. You start getting messages that aren’t “cool idea” but “this broke my workflow” or “when will this be fixed?” That’s when you realize you’re holding a small piece of someone else’s reality.

Another signal was how the market pushes back. Early on, everything is hypothetical. Later, you start hearing real objections: pricing resistance, feature gaps, edge cases you never imagined. That friction is annoying, but it’s also proof that the product is actually being used for something meaningful.

Internally, it also changes how you think. You stop asking “what do I feel like building?” and start asking “what actually moves this forward?” That’s when you begin making uncomfortable tradeoffs - saying no to fun ideas, investing in boring things like reliability, onboarding, and support.

To me, that’s the line:
A side project is driven by curiosity.
A real product is pulled forward by other people’s needs.

Once you feel that pull, keeping it lightweight becomes almost impossible - not because of ambition, but because now there’s something real on the other side.

Alex Cloudstar

@dushyant_khinchi This is such a clean way to frame it. The moment other people depend on it, the rules change. I really like the distinction between building from curiosity vs being pulled by real needs. That pull forces better decisions, even when they are less fun. At that point it is not about motivation anymore, it is about responsibility.