To be honest, I decided to write this essay because I was organizing my emails a little while ago and found a particular message. It was dated about three weeks after my app was released. The sender's name was unfamiliar, and the subject line simply said "I have a question about your app." To be frank, Lily back then was a bit burned out. I'd spent half a year building it, made announcements as carefully as I could, and yet the response was quiet. I kept checking the download numbers screen over and over, but the figures barely moved, and I was carrying around the anxiety of "I wonder if anyone is actually using this," all while somehow continuing to build the next features.
That email updated something inside me. It wasn't about technology or marketing, but something more mundane and yet far more important to me. Today, I want to write honestly about the experience it gave me.
I think anyone doing personal development projects would understand this, but the 2-3 weeks after release is a very strange period of time.
While I was building it, I was always thinking "I want to get this out into the world soon," but once I did, I suddenly had nothing to do. I'd written the announcement post. I'd registered it on Product Hunt. But when I returned to my daily life, the app was just sitting there quietly, and I couldn't even tell if anyone was using it.
In my case, I'd built a simple habit management app. I started making it for myself. I couldn't figure out how to use those "do-everything high-function tools" properly, and the extra features got in the way. I wanted something simple that matched my own style. After spending a little over half a year, I finished it into a form I truly wanted to use.
Days of Facing the Numbers
For a while after release, checking the analytics every morning became a habit. The numbers were increasing, but at a pace where I couldn't even tell if they were increasing. "5 people downloaded it in a day"—should I take that as "it's being used," or as "almost no one is using it"? Honestly, I wasn't sure.
When things are like this, where does a personal developer turn? In my case, I was heading in the direction of "distracting myself from anxiety by building the next feature." Adding features I wasn't sure were needed, continuing to build without knowing if they'd be used. If I didn't do that, I felt like I was losing something.
On the morning of the third week, that email came in.
When I first saw the subject line, I thought, "Is this a complaint?" I think this is a common thing for personal developers, but when support inquiries come in, I reflexively brace myself. "It doesn't work," "There's a bug," "I want a refund"—I was imagining that kind of content, steeling myself a bit as I opened the email.
But what was written there was completely different.
I Was Overwhelmed by What Was in the Email
That user (let's call them K) had incorporated my app into their morning routine before starting work. Reading through how they used it, they were operating at about two levels beyond what I'd imagined.
Specifically, for items I'd implemented as "just checkboxes," K had given them their own meaning and created rules for how to title them. They were expressing their mood that day with the first character, using it as a record after checking off. That kind of "way of using it" was written all over the email.
And the main point of the email was a very polite request: "If this feature existed, I'd be really happy—would you consider it?" It wasn't a complaint; it was a request. Moreover, I was completely overwhelmed by the "way K was engaging with this app" that lay behind that request.
After I finished reading K's email, I sat blankly in front of the screen for a while.
I was the one who wrote all the code. I know where every feature is, what processing it does—I know everything. But K was using the app in a way I'd never once imagined when I was writing the code. What I'd placed as "just a checkbox," K had completely mastered as a tool for organizing their thoughts and habits.
I realized: "me, the creator," and "K, the user," were seeing the app in completely different landscapes.
The "Right Way" to Use Something Isn't Decided by the Creator
For a long time, I unconsciously believed that "I'm the one who knows the right way to use this app." I think somewhere inside me was the feeling that I wanted people to use it as designed, to follow the flow I'd imagined.
But the reality was different. People take it into their own context, each in their own way, and use it with their own rules. There's really very little room for the creator to intervene. Even if I thought "I want people to use it this way," for K, "this way is better suited to me" was a far more correct way to use it.
I realized this three weeks later, from a single email from a user.
That night, I wrote a response.
At first, I was planning to keep it short—just "Thank you, I'll consider your request"—but once I started writing, I couldn't stop. How interesting K's way of using it was, why I'd decided to make this app, what problems I'd felt—before I knew it, I'd written a long message about all of that.
After I sent it, I felt a little regret about it being too long, but the next day K sent another reply, and this time they told me about themselves. That they work as a freelancer, that their morning routine tends to fall apart and they'd been struggling with that, that since they started using this app, it feels like things have gotten a bit more organized.
I Added One Small Change
In our exchange, the request that came up was to have a bit more fine-grained control over the order of items.
Technically it wasn't difficult, but it was a feature I'd left out thinking "I don't think we really need to go that far." But after hearing how K used it, I could honestly think "this is definitely necessary." I implemented it two days later and let them know, and K sent back a short reply: just "Thank you, I'm using it right away."
That one line made me happier than I'd expected.
The title of this essay, "The Day a User Taught Me About My Own App," isn't a metaphor—it's literally what happened.
Before and after reading K's email, my way of engaging with my app changed slightly. From the feeling of "something I created," to the feeling of "something someone is using." From my own narrow perspective to the real sense that there are people using it.
"The Reason to Continue" Can Come From Outside
When you're doing personal development, there comes a time when it's hard to answer the question "Why am I making this?" For money? For myself? For someone else? There's honestly quite a long stretch where I'm moving my hands without a clear answer.
But when you have an experience like K's email, you realize that "reasons" don't just come from inside. They can come from outside. A single line like "I'm using your app this way" can replenish the "reason to continue" inside you.
After I realized that, I changed how I approached support emails. Before, it was "something I have to deal with," but now I can read them with curiosity: "I wonder how they're using it." Even if it's a complaint, it's still the voice of someone using the app.
I'm Going to Keep Going a Little Longer, at My Own Pace
My exchange with K ended after about three back-and-forths. After that, the quiet time continued, and the numbers didn't grow dramatically. It didn't become an easy-to-understand story like "because of that experience, I suddenly succeeded."
Still, my reason for continuing changed a bit. When I think that maybe someone out there is using it, my feeling when thinking about the next feature changes. I can now ask myself "Would this be useful to someone like K?"
If you're a personal developer reading this essay, you might be in that silence after release, or you might be at a point where your reason for continuing has become vague.
Just as K's email came to me, there's a possibility that someone is using your app in a way you don't know about. That voice might come to you someday, in an unexpected form.
I'm going to keep going a little longer, believing in that.
Lily（@bokuwalily）― Personal developer. I make iOS apps and web services in tandem with AI.
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Lily（@bokuwalily）― Personal developer / AI adoption and business automation consultant. I make iOS apps and web services in tandem with AI while consulting with companies on AI adoption and automation.
🖥️ Creations and articles → bokuwalily.com
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