This text is not about technology. It’s about people. It’s not a guide on how to use Web3. It’s a way of thinking about how someone enters, stays, and recognizes themselves inside something new.

For years, people believed adoption depended on better explanations, more documentation, or more education. I believe it depends on designing a better human experience.

We don’t need more tutorials. We need warmer entrances.

What follows is my way of understanding onboarding, social wallets, and the real role of creators: not as protagonists, but as bridges. Not as brands, but as places where others can begin.

This is not a technical theory. It’s an emotional theory applied to new systems.

My theory starts from a basic discomfort with Web3: the problem is not technical, it’s human. It doesn’t fail because people don’t understand wallets, gas, or contracts. It fails because the entrance is cold, intimidating, and disconnected from real life. Most systems start by asking people to trust before giving them anything. I propose the opposite: first experience, then identity, and only at the end—if it appears at all—money.

Onboarding doesn’t start with a wallet. It starts with an action that makes sense to an ordinary person. Something they can do without fear, without paying, without feeling ignorant. Voting, playing, interacting, replying, watching, choosing. When someone does something and something stays with them—a badge, a name, a visible trace—the first inner shift happens: “this is mine.” That moment is not technical. It’s emotional. And without that moment, there is no adoption.

That’s why I talk about social wallets, not wallets. Not as a product, but as a feeling. A social wallet is an account that doesn’t feel like an account. It’s identity before tool. Base App and Farcaster work because they don’t tell you “you’re using crypto.” They let you live something.

Frames, mini apps, curated feeds, and small rewards are not features: they are applied psychology. People don’t enter to be “onchain.” They enter to do something interesting. And without realizing it, they stay.

In my model, order matters more than technology. First value, then identity, only then capital. If you start with money, you activate fear. If you start with identity, you activate belonging.

Language is infrastructure.
If you invite people using words that sound like threats, nobody crosses.

Bridge, gas, seed, custody—those are barriers.
That’s why I translate: wallet is your account with ownership, seed is your master key, gas is operation cost—and it’s better if it doesn’t appear on day one.

If language scares people, the system fails.

Security also doesn’t enter through paranoia.
It enters through simple rules:
don’t share your key, start small, check where you click.

That’s enough.

From this theory comes my idea of creators.
For me, a creator is not someone who shouts or builds a personal brand for attention.
A creator is a door.

They are the first human experience of a system.

They don’t explain everything: they walk with you through the first step.
They don’t position themselves as unreachable experts, but as people who already live there.
The message is not “I know more.”
It’s “I’m already here, come with me.”

Creators lower the floor.
They make entry feel easy.
They use common words.
They show mistakes.
They give permission.

They don’t push theory.
They design micro-experiences: an interaction, a vote, a badge, a reply.
Small actions with fast rewards.

That builds trust.

They don’t build followers.
They build belonging.

People don’t say “I follow X.”
They say “I’m part of the place I entered through X.”

That’s why creators are not measured by views,
but by how many people cross the door.

A quality Web3 creator is not valued by what they show,
but by what they make possible.

Not by how many people look at them,
but by how many can enter because of them.

A creator finds their value when they understand this:
I’m not the center, I’m the bridge.

Creating for others changes everything.
You stop asking “what represents me?”
and start asking “who does this help?”

Other ecosystems don’t connect with ego.
They connect with usefulness.

A creator who can say
“300 people entered through here”
is worth more than one who says
“30,000 people saw me.”

Because an ecosystem doesn’t look for fame.
It looks for living users.

People live overloaded.
News, crises, pressure, comparison, uncertainty.
The brain looks for rest.

And many dapps only offer this:
money, stress, FOMO, risk, urgency.

That’s not experience.
That’s anxiety with a nice interface.

People don’t always want to earn more.
Many times they want to feel less.

They want to play, see something beautiful, laugh, collect without pressure, belong without optimizing.

Distraction is not superficial.
It’s regulating.

When everything is about money, you activate fear.
When you include play, beauty, humor, community, identity, you activate staying.

Not everything has to be money.
Sometimes, the most valuable thing is that for a while…
it doesn’t hurt.

For me, creating is not producing content.
It’s designing experiences where people recognize themselves inside something new.

Onboarding is not technical.
It’s emotional.

Wallets are not just tools.
They are places where someone can say: “this is where I am.”

And creators are not the voice of the system.
They are the place where the system starts to feel human.

If Web3 wants to exist outside its bubble,
it has to stop starting from fear
and start from life.

*Source: My brain

*Image: Modified with AI, rights belong to their respective author.

This text is not about technology. It’s about people. It’s not a guide on how to use Web3. It’s a way of thinking about how someone enters, stays, and recognizes themselves inside something new.

For years, people believed adoption depended on better explanations, more documentation, or more education. I believe it depends on designing a better human experience.

We don’t need more tutorials. We need warmer entrances.

What follows is my way of understanding onboarding, social wallets, and the real role of creators: not as protagonists, but as bridges. Not as brands, but as places where others can begin.

This is not a technical theory. It’s an emotional theory applied to new systems.

My theory starts from a basic discomfort with Web3: the problem is not technical, it’s human. It doesn’t fail because people don’t understand wallets, gas, or contracts. It fails because the entrance is cold, intimidating, and disconnected from real life. Most systems start by asking people to trust before giving them anything. I propose the opposite: first experience, then identity, and only at the end—if it appears at all—money.

Onboarding doesn’t start with a wallet. It starts with an action that makes sense to an ordinary person. Something they can do without fear, without paying, without feeling ignorant. Voting, playing, interacting, replying, watching, choosing. When someone does something and something stays with them—a badge, a name, a visible trace—the first inner shift happens: “this is mine.” That moment is not technical. It’s emotional. And without that moment, there is no adoption.

That’s why I talk about social wallets, not wallets. Not as a product, but as a feeling. A social wallet is an account that doesn’t feel like an account. It’s identity before tool. Base App and Farcaster work because they don’t tell you “you’re using crypto.” They let you live something.

Frames, mini apps, curated feeds, and small rewards are not features: they are applied psychology. People don’t enter to be “onchain.” They enter to do something interesting. And without realizing it, they stay.

In my model, order matters more than technology. First value, then identity, only then capital. If you start with money, you activate fear. If you start with identity, you activate belonging.

Language is infrastructure.
If you invite people using words that sound like threats, nobody crosses.

Bridge, gas, seed, custody—those are barriers.
That’s why I translate: wallet is your account with ownership, seed is your master key, gas is operation cost—and it’s better if it doesn’t appear on day one.

If language scares people, the system fails.

Security also doesn’t enter through paranoia.
It enters through simple rules:
don’t share your key, start small, check where you click.

That’s enough.

From this theory comes my idea of creators.
For me, a creator is not someone who shouts or builds a personal brand for attention.
A creator is a door.

They are the first human experience of a system.

They don’t explain everything: they walk with you through the first step.
They don’t position themselves as unreachable experts, but as people who already live there.
The message is not “I know more.”
It’s “I’m already here, come with me.”

Creators lower the floor.
They make entry feel easy.
They use common words.
They show mistakes.
They give permission.

They don’t push theory.
They design micro-experiences: an interaction, a vote, a badge, a reply.
Small actions with fast rewards.

That builds trust.

They don’t build followers.
They build belonging.

People don’t say “I follow X.”
They say “I’m part of the place I entered through X.”

That’s why creators are not measured by views,
but by how many people cross the door.

A quality Web3 creator is not valued by what they show,
but by what they make possible.

Not by how many people look at them,
but by how many can enter because of them.

A creator finds their value when they understand this:
I’m not the center, I’m the bridge.

Creating for others changes everything.
You stop asking “what represents me?”
and start asking “who does this help?”

Other ecosystems don’t connect with ego.
They connect with usefulness.

A creator who can say
“300 people entered through here”
is worth more than one who says
“30,000 people saw me.”

Because an ecosystem doesn’t look for fame.
It looks for living users.

People live overloaded.
News, crises, pressure, comparison, uncertainty.
The brain looks for rest.

And many dapps only offer this:
money, stress, FOMO, risk, urgency.

That’s not experience.
That’s anxiety with a nice interface.

People don’t always want to earn more.
Many times they want to feel less.

They want to play, see something beautiful, laugh, collect without pressure, belong without optimizing.

Distraction is not superficial.
It’s regulating.

When everything is about money, you activate fear.
When you include play, beauty, humor, community, identity, you activate staying.

Not everything has to be money.
Sometimes, the most valuable thing is that for a while…
it doesn’t hurt.

For me, creating is not producing content.
It’s designing experiences where people recognize themselves inside something new.

Onboarding is not technical.
It’s emotional.

Wallets are not just tools.
They are places where someone can say: “this is where I am.”

And creators are not the voice of the system.
They are the place where the system starts to feel human.

If Web3 wants to exist outside its bubble,
it has to stop starting from fear
and start from life.

*Source: My brain

*Image: Modified with AI, rights belong to their respective author.