This Week on "Scrollaholics"...

I didn’t write a newsletter lately because work has been… loud.

Not “busy” loud. More like existential spreadsheet loud.

Because here’s the part nobody romanticizes: it takes a very specific kind of belief to keep going when the math isn’t rewarding you yet. When you’re doing a lot, reinvesting everything, and the numbers don’t reflect the effort. When progress is real, but not linear. When your calendar is full, and your bank account is… unimpressed.

That’s where I am.

My brain has been in ten places at once, interior shops, coworkings, offices, corporates, homes, bedrooms, dining tables, conversations that turn into plans, plans that turn into prototypes, prototypes that turn into “okay, but how do we actually bring this into the world?”

We’re building something new. Not just a product. A ritual. A movement. A home for your smartphone. Like a vestiaire to your coat.

And movements don’t behave like normal products. They don’t “convert” because you explained it one more time. They move because a small group decides: this matters enough to act on.

So when I feel the doubt, chaos, that “why is this taking so long?” I come back to a few principles.

Episode 3 Season 3: “When it gets quiet, we start scrolling.” — Dirk De Wachter on the importance of real connection."

“Als het stil wordt, gaan we... Dec 1 · Scroll-A-Holics 36:52   ​

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If you’re working on a movement, you have to accept something that feels unfair at first:

Most people will agree with you… and still do nothing.

Not because they’re not "supportive", because behavior change is hard.

In our world, people already know heavy smartphone usage isn’t great. Awareness isn’t the problem. The friction is:

• “I know, but I don’t need help.”
• “I want to change, but I don’t want to spend money.”
• “It doesn’t affect me now, so I’ll deal with it later.”

So I’m not trying to convince the whole room.
I’m looking for the early adopters, the ones who feel the pull, who get it, who are ready to move first.

Early-stage building has a soundtrack: rejection, silence, “not now,” “too early.”

The no’s are louder. They arrive faster. They feel like facts.

And the yeses? They’re fewer, but they’re signals.

So I’m practicing this deliberately: collecting proof.

• The customer who lights up when they hold the product.
• The message that says, “this is exactly what we needed at home.”
• The company that sees the value of workshops, culture, and attention.

The yeses don’t have to be many. They just have to be real.

My motivation changes daily. The mission doesn’t.

When my brain goes in all directions (and it does), I come back to what we’re actually doing:

We’re not selling a gadget.​
We’re designing a symbol and a ritual, an aesthetic “pushke” that helps people start a new way of being.

Less autopilot. More presence.​
A small object that quietly says: this is what I stand for.

And when you build something like that, you’re not just launching a product.
​You’re helping people build identity: I’m someone who chooses attention.

That’s bigger than one launch week. Bigger than one month of numbers.
That’s a long game.

And each day I hope it pays off, one day.

Yasmin