There's a moment in every creative project where you look at what you've made and think: *Is this real? Did I actually build this?*
I had that moment last week, staring at my screen, clicking through an app that didn't exist a few months ago. An app I built. Me — someone who has never launched a product, never written production code, never done any of this before.
The app is called Floudea.ai, and it's a note-taking tool for people who think in messy, non-linear ways. And today, I want to tell you how it came to be — because I think the story matters just as much as the product.
The idea that wouldn't leave me alone
Like most ideas, Floudea started as a frustration.
I take a lot of notes. For work, for personal projects, for random thoughts at 2am that feel profound in the moment and confusing in the morning. I've tried every note-taking app out there. Notion. Obsidian. Apple Notes. Google Keep. Roam. Bear.
And here's what I kept running into: they all assume your thoughts arrive organized.
They give you folders and tags and hierarchies and databases. Beautiful structure for thoughts that don't come in beautiful structures. My real thinking process looks nothing like a neatly organized Notion workspace. It looks like a whiteboard after a brainstorm — arrows everywhere, half-finished sentences, ideas connected in ways that only make sense if you can see the whole picture.
So I kept thinking: *What if there was a note-taking app built for the way ideas actually happen?*
That idea sat in the back of my head for months. I'd sketch out features on napkins. I'd tell friends about it over dinner. I'd open a Google Doc, write three bullet points, and close it.
Because here's the thing — I didn't know how to build an app. And that felt like a wall I couldn't climb.
Enter Claude Code
I first heard about AI coding assistants through the usual channels — Twitter threads, YouTube videos, that one friend who won't stop talking about AI. I was skeptical. "AI can write code" sounded like "AI can write novels" — technically possible but probably not very good.
Then I tried Claude Code. And my skepticism didn't vanish, but it shifted.
Claude Code isn't magic. It doesn't read your mind. You can't just say "build me Floudea" and come back in an hour to a finished product. That's not how it works.
What it does is something more subtle and, honestly, more powerful: it removes the translation barrier between "I know what I want" and "I know how to build it."
I could describe what I wanted in plain language. Claude would help me think through the technical architecture. I'd make decisions — some informed, some guesses — and we'd iterate together. When something broke, I'd describe the problem. When I had a new idea, I'd describe the feature.
The process felt less like "programming" and more like an extended conversation with a very patient, very knowledgeable collaborator.
Was every line of code perfect? No. Did I have to learn things along the way? Constantly. Did I sometimes get stuck for hours on problems that an experienced developer would solve in minutes? Absolutely.
But the fundamental equation changed. Instead of spending two years learning to code before I could even start, I spent that time actually building. And that makes all the difference.
What it actually feels like (the honest version)
Let me be transparent about something: building a product for the first time is emotionally chaotic.
There are days when I feel like a genius. I solve a problem, or a feature clicks into place, or I show someone a demo and they say "wow, this is cool" — and I feel invincible.
Then there are days when I feel like a fraud. When a bug I can't understand breaks something I thought was working. When I compare Floudea to established apps with teams of 50 engineers. When the voice in my head says, "Who are you to build this?"
The overwhelm is real. There are so many things to think about beyond just building the product — marketing, testing, launch strategy, legal stuff, design, user experience, pricing. Every day I discover another thing I didn't know I needed to know.
But here's what keeps me going: the app works. It's not perfect, but it works. Real notes go in, real ideas come out, and the experience of using it feels like what I imagined all those months ago when it was just a frustration and a napkin sketch.
That's enough. For now, that's enough.
What's next
Right now, I'm in what I'm calling the "final stretch" — finishing the last features, squashing bugs, and getting ready for real users to try it.
In the coming weeks, I'm looking for 10 beta testers. People who take notes as part of their daily work. People who've tried other apps and felt that same friction I felt. People who are willing to be honest — brutally honest — about what works and what doesn't.
If that sounds like you, I'll be sharing more details soon on LinkedIn and right here on this blog.
And I'm going to keep documenting this whole process. The wins, the setbacks, the "I have no idea what I'm doing" moments. Because I think there's value in seeing someone do this for the first time — mess-ups and all.
If you've been sitting on an idea, thinking you can't build it because you don't have the right skills or experience — I'm not going to promise it's easy. It's not. But the barriers are lower than they've ever been, and the only thing standing between your idea and a real product might just be the decision to start.
I decided to start. Let's see where it goes.
This is the first post in a series documenting the building and launch of Floudea.ai. Follow along for honest updates, lessons learned, and the occasional existential crisis.
Want to be one of the first 10 testers? Reach out to me on LinkedIn or drop a comment below.