Why do I keep killing my prototypes before anyone sees them?

You build something in an afternoon. By evening you've found three reasons it's wrong. By midnight it's gone — deleted, archived, never mentioned to a soul. No one else touched it. You call this taste. It is a closed court where you are prosecutor, judge, and executioner, and the verdict was decided before the trial began. The problem is not that you build too fast, or care too much, or lack discipline. The problem is you've arranged things so only one vote ever gets cast — yours, at your most tired and most doubtful hour. That's not fair to the work. It asks one mind to do a job that needs several. You have a pod. People who could see what you built before you bury it. Use them — not for comfort, not for permission, but as a second vote before the thing goes in the ground. That is the whole fix, and it costs you nothing but the discomfort of being seen before you're ready.