✍🏾 I Built Two Apps Without Waiting for Permission
What made me start building apps
I actually built my first website back in 2017 using Squarespace while studying at Ithaca College. At the time, it felt natural—almost expected—to create an online presence and showcase my work.
But apps? That always felt like something… different.
For years, I was waiting for the technology to catch up—to get to a point where building apps could feel as accessible and intuitive as building a website. I had the ideas, the sketches, the blueprints—all rooted in what I now call the Passaggio Ecosystem.
Fast forward to 2026, and everything clicked.
I can now take those ideas and actually build them. Not just think about them, not just plan—but create real tools that reflect my philosophy, my values, and the kind of experience I want to offer others.
And honestly, that’s exciting in a completely different way.
Did I feel like I needed permission?
Interestingly, no—not at first.
When I built my website, I didn’t question it. In school, we were encouraged to build our brand, and I approached it holistically as a music education major. It wasn’t just about performing (even though I love to sing)—it was about creating a full picture of who I was.
But apps felt different.
There was a gap between website tools and app development tools, and in that gap, it felt like you needed credentials. Like you had to be a “developer.” Like there were gatekeepers.
Traditional app development reinforces that feeling—especially with app stores, approval processes, and technical barriers.
But things have changed.
Instead of trying to force my way through those traditional systems, I focused on what I’ve always done within Passaggio: finding the bridge.
The path of least resistance that still honors what I want to build.
The systems that helped me build
What’s funny is that my systems didn’t change.
I’ve always used:
to-do lists
vision boards (Pinterest)
Google and YouTube for research
my notes
The real shift wasn’t the tools—it was how seriously I took myself.
For a long time, I could get 90% of the way there and stop. Because it was “just a passion.”
But now I see that closing that final 10%—actually finishing—is what transforms something from an idea into impact.
That’s the bridge I had to cross.
What surprised me most
How fast everything came together.
Once I had my thoughts organized—once the ideas were clear—the actual build process moved quickly. Faster than I expected.
It was one of those moments where you step back and think:
“Wait… this actually looks really good.”
That’s when I realized something important:
I’m not building things I need to use.
I’m building things I would genuinely want to use—and share with people I care about.
Everything starts from my values. What I call the Passaggio Rules of Engagement.
What finishing felt like
Relief.
Genuine, physical, mental relief.
When you hold onto ideas for a long time—especially as an artist—it takes up space. A lot of it. It’s like unfinished music sitting in your mind.
Finishing an app feels like releasing a song.
Like singing a difficult aria all the way through and landing it.
There’s a sense of:
“It’s out now. It exists outside of me.”
And that creates space for the next thing.
For anyone who feels “not ready”
I get it.
Imposter syndrome is real—and no, not the game version.
There’s a difference between:
not being ready yet
and believing you’ll never be ready
If you’re not ready, that’s actually useful information.
It means you can:
identify what skills you need
build from your strengths
take intentional steps forward
So instead of running from that feeling, I’d say:
Lean into it.
Use that awareness as a tool—not a barrier.
And remember:
Progress matters more than perfection.
What “not waiting for permission” means to me now
It means recognizing that my standards are already high.
That I’m a lifelong learner—but not under anyone else’s jurisdiction.
There was a shift after graduating.
Before, it was:
“What will they think? Am I meeting their expectations?”
Now, it’s:
“What do I want to build? What impact do I want to make?”
That doesn’t mean I don’t care about quality—it means I’ve internalized it.
I’m not trying to pass someone else’s class anymore.
I’ve already done that.
Now, I’m building on my own terms.
✨ Closing
Not waiting for permission doesn’t mean ignoring structure or responsibility.
It means recognizing when you already have enough to begin.
Because most of the time, the real barrier isn’t skill.
It’s hesitation.
And once you move past that—even once—you realize:
You were allowed to start all along.
