Whether you’re drowning in logistics chaos or still trying to figure out your “why,” there’s a way through this beautiful mess we call event production.

But here’s the plot twist: The #1 bottleneck across the board was MOMENTUM.

Not strategy. Not tech disasters. Not even the dreaded “what am I going to talk about?” spiral. It was that post-event limbo where you know you should follow up... but the energy’s gone, your inbox looks like a digital hurricane hit it, and that replay link is just sitting there like an abandoned houseplant.

If that's you, well, welcome to the club.

So, which one did you answer? Here’s what the full poll looked like:

Here is where you’ll find the mindset shifts and quick wins for wherever you’re stuck, organized by the stage you picked. Think of it as your event therapy session, but with all the breakthroughs, none of the breakthrough crying.

You could use help clarifying the strategy: purpose, goals, and who it’s for. Does it feel like you're stuck at the starting line, staring at a blank Google Doc like it personally offended you? No shame! Starting is the hardest part, and I’ve watched brilliant people freeze up here a lot.

The real issue: You’re trying to plan the perfect event instead of planning the right event for your people.

What to focus on next: Start with the end in mind, but make it specific. “Share my expertise” isn’t a strategy, it’s a LinkedIn bio. “Show wedding videographers how to deliver client highlight reels within 48 hours using my 3-step turnaround system so they can book more weddings without burning out” is a strategy.

Don’t plan alone, seriously. A 15-minute brainstorm with someone who knows your audience will spark better direction than three hours alone with your thoughts. I learned this the hard way during my early TypeEd days when I thought I could mind-read what typography students needed. (Spoiler: I couldn’t.)

Answer this first: “What do I want my audience to do, feel, or become after this event?” Everything else flows from there.

Your breakthrough moment: When you can explain your event concept to someone in two sentences and they immediately get why they’d want to attend. That’s when you know you’ve got something.

You could use help planning the flow, deciding on the tech, and building the team. Welcome to the smoothie blender of event production, where slides, speakers, tech tools, and timelines all get thrown together and somehow you’re supposed to make it taste good.

You’re in the “17 tabs open” phase of event planning. Everything feels urgent, nothing feels organized, and you’re pretty sure you forgot something important but can’t remember what. You keep diving down rabbit holes of research, not knowing where to move on to next.

The real issue: You’re trying to control everything instead of designing for flow.

What to focus on next: Simplify ruthlessly. Look at your agenda and ask: “Does this serve my audience or just make me feel busy?” Cut anything that doesn’t directly support your core message.

Create a run-of-show doc and share it. Not just with your team, with everyone involved. Your speakers need to know when they’re on, your broadcast tech needs to know when to switch scenes, and your chat moderator needs to know when to drop those perfectly-timed links. Clarity equals calm, and calm equals better events.

Assign clear roles before you go live. Who’s welcoming guests? Who’s monitoring chat? Who’s the backup when your main presenter’s cat decides to perform an interpretive dance across their keyboard?

Your breakthrough moment: When you can run through your entire event flow without checking your notes, that’s when you know you’ve got a system, not just a plan.

You made it to the finish line, and now you’re tempted to close your laptop, order takeout, and pretend data doesn’t exist. I get it. Post-event analysis feels about as appealing as doing taxes after a root canal.

But skipping this step is like going to the gym and never checking if you’re getting stronger. You’re missing the whole point.

The real issue: You think analysis means creating elaborate spreadsheets when it really means capturing what you learned while it’s still fresh.

What to focus on next: Run a “what we learned” debrief within 24 hours, while the memory is still crisp. What felt great? What made you want to hide under your desk? What would you change if you could time-travel back to yesterday? Don’t overthink it, just brain dump.

Send single-question surveys instead of those 27-question monstrosities that make people want to delete their email. Try: “What’s one thing you took away from this event?” or “What surprised you most?” Simple questions get honest answers.

Look at engagement, not just attendance. Who stayed until the end? Who was actively chatting? What moments spiked the energy? These patterns tell you more about your content than any registration number ever will.

Your breakthrough moment: When you can tell someone three specific things you learned from your event without consulting a single spreadsheet. That’s when analysis becomes insight.

Ah, the post-event void. You nailed the presentation, the audience was engaged, the chat was buzzing... and then everyone disappeared into the digital ether like they were never there.

This is where most events go to die. Not because they were bad, but because nobody planned for what happens after the virtual applause stops.

The real issue: You treated your event like a performance instead of the beginning of a conversation.

What to focus on next: Send an email recap within 24 hours, while you’re still fresh in their minds. Include the highlights, key takeaways, and one clear next step. Not seventeen next steps—one. Overwhelmed people do nothing.

Offer a friction-free next step. That could be booking a call, joining a waitlist, downloading a toolkit, or just connecting on LinkedIn. Make it so easy they’d feel silly not doing it. Enthusiasm without direction is just entertainment.

Repurpose like your content calendar depends on it (because it does). Turn those juicy soundbites into posts, reels, blog posts, emails, and future event teasers. One good event should give you at least ten pieces of content. If it doesn’t, you’re not paying attention.

Your breakthrough moment: When someone references something from your event weeks later, or better yet, when they bring a colleague to your next one. That’s when you know you’ve created momentum, not just a moment.

What I’ve learned after years of hosting everything from intimate studio design critiques to massive Adobe events is that every place you get stuck is showing you where your next level of growth lives.

The best part? You don’t have to fix everything at once. Just focus on your current bottleneck and watch how solving that one thing creates a ripple effect through your entire event process.

And the truth is that events that change people’s lives aren’t perfect—they’re human. They’re hosted by people who cared enough to show up, figure it out, and keep improving. And that’s exactly what you’re doing.