Closing Spotex: What I Learned from My Clients and Why I Decided to Change My Model

Over the years, I worked with very different kinds of organizations: small local businesses, industrial companies, startups, professionals, and people who simply needed a website.

In some cases, I built straightforward showcase websites. In others, I developed full software platforms from scratch.

I worked with Shopify, Express.js, EJS, PHP, MySQL, PostgreSQL, Socket.IO, Nginx, and custom systems designed almost entirely from the ground up.

Some projects lasted a few weeks. Others became genuine journeys that lasted months.

That difference taught me something important: delivering a project and managing a client over the long term are two completely different jobs.

One of the most demanding projects I worked on was a platform for a startup operating in the pension fund sector.

The project began with a very limited budget compared with the amount of work required, but over eight months of development it became a considerably complex system.

I developed an Express.js backend, a custom EJS frontend, a PostgreSQL database, JWT authentication, session and authorization management, security systems, an Nginx reverse proxy, server-level protections, and a real-time communication system based on Socket.IO.

The platform also included a room-based system, where users could interact only under specific conditions and after accepting particular documents.

At the same time, I handled SEO, personal branding, and the visual identity of the project.

The technical outcome gave me a lot. From a commercial perspective, however, it taught me an even more important lesson: an underpriced project can quickly become a difficult business relationship to sustain.

The issue is not only how much you are paid to develop the software. It is everything that comes after: hosting, maintenance, requests, changes, explanations, updates, and expectations continue to exist even when the project has been delivered.

Paradoxically, some of my most formative experiences did not come from the technically most complex projects.

I worked with small e-commerce businesses, local companies, restaurant websites, herbal shops, artisans, and family businesses.

In some cases, the initial project was worth a few hundred euros. In others, a few thousand. But the recurring problem was always the same: once the website was delivered, the line between “project” and “support” became very blurred.

A text change. A photo replacement. An issue with a certified email account. An explanation for the client. A menu update. A small visual adjustment.

“It will only take five minutes.”

That is exactly the sentence I learned to fear over time. Because five minutes today become half an hour tomorrow. And half an hour multiplied by dozens of requests becomes a significant part of your professional life.

Today, I do not think clients themselves were simply the problem. In many cases, I had unintentionally created those expectations.

I had accepted prices that were too low. I had included work that should have been invoiced separately. I had answered on WhatsApp. I had made changes “on the fly.” I had turned support into something undefined.

And above all, I had not always clearly established where a project ended and where new work began.

When you are young, technically capable, and eager to prove what you can do, it is easy to fall into this trap. You want to solve the problem. You want to help the client. You want them to be satisfied.

Then you realize that you are working all the time, but the economic model is not growing with the amount of work.

Not everything was negative, of course.

I had clients who paid correctly, respected the work delivered, and continued trusting me over time. Some simply needed a website and, once the project was complete, the relationship remained quiet. Others needed hosting and very little support.

These relationships helped me understand the kind of clients I want to work with in the future.

I am not necessarily looking for the client who pays the most. I am looking for the client with whom there is a clear relationship.

There were also more complicated relationships: clients who constantly requested changes, who considered every intervention included in the original price, who challenged small price increases, who asked for support on tools I had not even built, or who contacted me about matters unrelated to the service they had purchased.

Those relationships also taught me something. They taught me that not every client is a client I want to have.

A few years ago, I would have struggled to accept that. Today, I consider it fundamental.

The company liquidation turned this reflection into something concrete.

I had to look at clients, domains, servers, hosting accounts, projects, payments, and everything that had been built over the years, one by one.

And I asked myself a very simple question:

“If I had to start again today, would I build the company in the same way?”

The answer was no.

Not because everything we did was wrong. On the contrary, I learned an enormous amount technically. I built complex systems and worked on backend architectures, security, databases, real-time applications, SEO, infrastructure, and custom software.

But I also learned that technical ability alone is not enough to build a sustainable business. You need to design the business model too.

For the future, I want to move in a very different direction. I am thinking about three distinct levels.

Hosting

The first is hosting: a simple, standardized service, preferably managed with Italian infrastructure. Few plans, few exceptions, and very clear boundaries.

Hosting should create a base of recurring revenue without turning into a second job.

Consulting

The second level is consulting. I no longer want to sell my time indiscriminately.

Consulting needs to be selective, with defined prices and scope. If someone wants a change, a new feature, or a technical intervention, that is new work.

SaaS

The third level is where I want to focus most: SaaS products.

Small, vertical products, ideally born from problems I have genuinely encountered. I do not want to build another huge piece of software trying to do everything. I want to build tools that solve one specific problem well.

The most important thing I take away from Spotex is not a technology.

It is not Express.js. It is not PostgreSQL. It is not Docker. It is not Socket.IO.

It is a much simpler realization:

a company must be designed so that it does not constantly depend on the people running it.

If every client has to talk to me, I have not built a system.

If every problem requires my intervention, I have not built a system.

If every request becomes an exception, I have not built a system.

I have simply built myself a job.

And after Spotex, I want to build something different.

The liquidation of Spotex does not erase what I have done.

I carry with me years of experience, hundreds of solved problems, designed architectures, mistakes made, clients met, and above all an enormous number of lessons that I could hardly have learned by studying books alone.

Some relationships will continue through Delta Software SRLS. Others will end. Others will simply be redefined with clearer rules.

And that is probably the healthiest thing that could have happened.

Because this time I do not want to simply change companies. I want to change the way I build my work.

Less unnecessary customization. Less dependency on my time. Less “I’ll take care of it.”

More systems. More products. More recurring revenue. And above all, more freedom.

Spotex was an important part of my journey. But it does not have to be the model for my future.