When you launch a token tied to your project, the weight of expectations changes. What might feel like natural decisions as a founder can easily be misunderstood by the very community you’re trying to build.

I learned this the hard way with $JUMPBOX.ETH, which was created through Retake.tv. The fee split wasn’t great, and there was no vault setup. In an effort to show conviction in my project, I bought a significant amount of my own token. Weeks later, I announced that I would need to sell some to upgrade my personal tech and take the project more seriously.

Here’s the reality:

• No one remembers the announcement.

• No one weighs the context.

• All they see is “the founder is selling.”

It doesn’t matter that I had already airdropped $615 to holders. What the community remembers is how much they paid in, how the chart looked when they entered, and how it felt when the market sentiment turned. My intentions—to fund tools and move the project forward—were lost in the noise.

The lesson for any founder is simple:

1. Don’t buy your own token. Even if you’re bullish, buying makes it harder to sell later without damaging trust.

2. Don’t sell your own token. Even if you announce it, even if it’s for important reasons, people will rarely understand.

3. Don’t launch too early. Wait until you’ve built up enough IP, content, and utility so the token represents more than just early hype.

If you ever want to avoid this dilemma, make sure your project has depth before it has a token. Buying your own token might feel like “showing support,” and selling might feel like a logical step toward sustainability—but to the community, it will almost always look like you’re playing against them.

That’s the paradox of being both the builder and the holder.

If I could go back, I would delay launching until I had more IP and utility ready. I’d focus first on building products, content, and community value that spoke for themselves—so the token launch felt like a natural extension rather than a starting point. I would also separate my role as a builder from my role as a market participant: let the community define the price, while I stay focused on creating things worth holding in the first place.

That way, the token becomes a reflection of real value delivered—not a balancing act between intent and perception.

When you launch a token tied to your project, the weight of expectations changes. What might feel like natural decisions as a founder can easily be misunderstood by the very community you’re trying to build.

I learned this the hard way with $JUMPBOX.ETH, which was created through Retake.tv. The fee split wasn’t great, and there was no vault setup. In an effort to show conviction in my project, I bought a significant amount of my own token. Weeks later, I announced that I would need to sell some to upgrade my personal tech and take the project more seriously.

Here’s the reality:

• No one remembers the announcement.

• No one weighs the context.

• All they see is “the founder is selling.”

It doesn’t matter that I had already airdropped $615 to holders. What the community remembers is how much they paid in, how the chart looked when they entered, and how it felt when the market sentiment turned. My intentions—to fund tools and move the project forward—were lost in the noise.

The lesson for any founder is simple:

1. Don’t buy your own token. Even if you’re bullish, buying makes it harder to sell later without damaging trust.

2. Don’t sell your own token. Even if you announce it, even if it’s for important reasons, people will rarely understand.

3. Don’t launch too early. Wait until you’ve built up enough IP, content, and utility so the token represents more than just early hype.

If you ever want to avoid this dilemma, make sure your project has depth before it has a token. Buying your own token might feel like “showing support,” and selling might feel like a logical step toward sustainability—but to the community, it will almost always look like you’re playing against them.

That’s the paradox of being both the builder and the holder.

If I could go back, I would delay launching until I had more IP and utility ready. I’d focus first on building products, content, and community value that spoke for themselves—so the token launch felt like a natural extension rather than a starting point. I would also separate my role as a builder from my role as a market participant: let the community define the price, while I stay focused on creating things worth holding in the first place.

That way, the token becomes a reflection of real value delivered—not a balancing act between intent and perception.