Quitting twice to build a six-figure app

6 min read
Sebastian quit his job to build apps, ran out of money, and went back to the same boring corporate job. He used the salary to fund his next app without pressure.

Why this story matters

Sebastian quit his corporate job to build apps, ran out of money, and had to go back to the same boring office he'd just left. Most people would see that as the end of the story—the dream that didn't work out.

But Sebastian saw it differently. He used the second stint at his corporate job as an investor that didn't take equity, building his next product on nights and weekends without the pressure of needing it to pay rent immediately. That reframing—from failure back to strategic funding—is what eventually got him to six figures.

The fear of going back is what stops most people from trying in the first place. Sebastian proved that going back isn't the worst outcome. Sometimes it's the setup for what actually works.

Where he started

Sebastian was a software engineer in Germany writing code for enterprise ERP systems. The kind of work that pays well, offers stability, and feels like absolutely nothing. He wanted to build his own products instead of maintaining someone else's legacy codebase, so he quit to go all-in on indie hacking.

His first project was LiftBear, a workout tracking app that tried to do everything. Too many features, too much complexity, not nearly enough focus. It didn't generate enough revenue to cover rent, and within months he was facing a decision most founders dread: go back to corporate or keep burning savings with no clear path to profitability.

He went back to the same job he'd left.

What he tried first

The all-in approach almost destroyed his ability to try again. Building LiftBear under financial pressure meant every decision was weighted by desperation rather than what would actually work. Should he add another feature to attract more users, or simplify to retain the ones he had? He didn't have time to figure it out properly because he needed money now.

When he returned to his corporate job, the temptation was to see it as defeat. Most people would have stopped building entirely at that point, convinced they'd proven they couldn't make it work. Sebastian did the opposite—he kept building, but removed the financial pressure entirely by treating his salary as investor capital that didn't require equity or a board seat.

How he got his first real client

While working full-time at his corporate job, Sebastian started building HabitKit as a side project. This time he did the opposite of everything that hadn't worked with LiftBear. Simple instead of complex. One visual metaphor instead of dozens of features. A habit tracker with a clean grid interface inspired by GitHub's contribution chart.

He launched it while still employed and made $150 on the first day. Not enough to quit, but enough to prove the concept had traction. He kept iterating, building in public on Twitter by sharing revenue screenshots and code snippets. No traditional marketing budget, no ads—just radical transparency that made people want to see him succeed.

The revenue grew slowly at first, then faster. He wasn't racing his bank account this time, so he could make decisions based on what would work long-term rather than what would generate cash this month. That patience, funded entirely by his corporate salary, is what let him build something sustainable.

What the work actually looks like

Sebastian runs HabitKit as a solo operation with no employees, no office, and no outside funding. It's a B2C mobile app built with Flutter so it works on both iOS and Android, monetized through subscriptions managed via RevenueCat. The business model is simple: people pay monthly or yearly to use a habit tracker that's more beautiful and focused than the alternatives.

He reached six-figure ARR in 2024. That's when he quit his corporate job for the second time, and this one stuck because the numbers actually supported it. The first quit was emotional—driven by wanting to escape boring work. The second quit was mathematical—driven by a business that generated enough profit to replace his salary with margin to spare.

The distinction matters because most people only hear about the second type of quit, the successful one that leads to freedom. But the first type of quit, the one that fails, is often what teaches you enough to make the second one work.

The tradeoffs

The return to corporate work wasn't just logistically difficult—it was humiliating. Walking back into the same office after announcing he was leaving to build his own thing felt like admitting failure publicly. Some former colleagues were supportive, others weren't, and the weight of having to explain why he was back made every day harder than the actual work.

Working two jobs simultaneously for years meant sacrificing evenings and weekends. No time off, no mental space to rest, just constant context-switching between corporate deliverables during the day and personal project work at night. That rhythm is sustainable for a while, but only if you can see the endgame clearly enough to keep going when you're exhausted.

The corporate salary gave him something most founders never get: time to figure out what actually works without the business needing to support him yet.

The number that matters

Six-figure ARR in 2024. Solo operator, no team, one product. That's the number that let him quit for the second time, this time permanently.

What's easy to miss

Most people think about career transitions in binary terms—you're either employed or you're not, either building a business or you're not. Sebastian's path shows that the most effective strategy is often both at the same time, using the stability of one to fund the risk of the other.

This is what Nassim Taleb calls the barbell strategy—you don't take moderate risks across the board. You combine extreme safety on one end (corporate job) with extreme upside potential on the other (side project with unlimited potential). The middle ground feels safer but leaves you exposed: not enough stability to take real risks, not enough upside to make the instability worth it.

Sebastian's corporate job wasn't a compromise or a backup plan. It was half the strategy. Extreme safety (guaranteed salary, benefits, predictable schedule) funded extreme upside (side project with unlimited potential and zero pressure to monetize before it was ready).

The failure of his first attempt taught him what not to build. Complexity doesn't sell as well as simplicity. Features don't matter as much as focus. Speed to market matters less than building something people actually want. Those lessons only became clear because he had the time and financial stability to reflect on what went wrong rather than immediately pivoting to the next idea out of financial necessity.

Buildzone Takeaway

The narrative around quitting your job to start something is almost always the same: someone gets fed up, walks out, builds something in their garage or spare bedroom, and eventually makes it work through sheer determination. That story is real for some people, but it's not the only path and probably not even the most common one.

Sebastian's story is more useful precisely because it's messier. He quit, failed, went back, and tried again—this time with a completely different financial structure that removed the pressure to succeed immediately. The bridge job wasn't a detour from building a business, it was actually the thing that made building a sustainable business possible.

Most people treat going back to a job they've already left as the ultimate failure, proof that they weren't cut out for independence. But that framing only makes sense if you think career transitions have to be permanent and linear. They don't. The most effective path is often zigzag—forward into risk, backward into safety, forward again with more information and better positioning.

Your job isn't necessarily what's holding you back from building something. It might be exactly what gives you the stability to build something that actually works instead of something you're forced to monetize before it's ready.

At a glance

Career before: Software engineer at a mid-sized German company (Enterprise Resource Planning systems)

What he built: HabitKit, a B2C mobile app for habit tracking with a distinctive visual grid interface inspired by GitHub's contribution chart

Revenue model: Subscription-based (monthly and annual plans via RevenueCat), reached six-figure ARR in 2024

Clients: Developers and productivity enthusiasts (end consumers)

Team size: Solo, no employees

Location dependence: None (fully remote, solopreneur model)

Tools used: Flutter for cross-platform development, RevenueCat for subscription management, X/Twitter for building in public and marketing

What didn't work: LiftBear (first app attempt) was too complex with too many features, failed to generate sustainable revenue, led to return to corporate employment

Transition timeline: Quit corporate job to build LiftBear, returned to same job after it failed, built HabitKit as side project while employed, quit again once HabitKit reached six-figure ARR. Total timeline spans several years across both attempts.

Strategy: Barbell approach—extreme safety (corporate salary) funding extreme upside (side project with no pressure to monetize immediately)

Avatar image of the author of the blog
Karina
Editor

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