Dear Entrepreneur in a Pandemic,
Hey you.
Remember the day you finally quit that soul crushing job because you knew you could do so much better? I mean, that was some brave ass shit if you really think about it.
Remember those days and nights, the weekends, the dawns you felt like working didn’t feel like working because you had dreams to build? My other founder friend says, it’s like you’re “lit on purpose.” Yeah, I remember those days. I would be up until 4am building my vision, anxious and excited all at the same time, pouring my heart onto the world for everyone to see hoping they’d respond.
Do you remember your firsts? The first person who contacted you through your website? The first person who said yes to you after a series of nos? The first payment you ever received, not a paycheck but a receipt of your own charted path?
What about that big dream of yours? One day having a full team of people who believe in your vision and their potential? Or having that life of freedom and abundance where you don’t need to answer to anyone else but only your spirit and purpose?
Are you still listening to that dream?
It’s a scary time for all of us.
I knew most new businesses fail (because it’s fucking hard to run a business) but I never could have imagined a freaking pandemic taking down even those most innovative and resilient among us.
I don’t know where my business will be in 3, 6, 12 months. I have my guesses — the best and worst case scenarios — but there is just a lot that is out of my control. I’m doing my best to stay calm but my entire body feels like a wave crashing into pieces every hour in full force. The adrenaline, anxiety, worry, overwhelm, excitement… they’re all there, in those little droplets, and I’m holding them all at the same time, over and over.
Whenever I feel like I’m getting sucked into the waves and drowning in rough waters, I remember to breathe and relax my body and say: “I am doing the best I can.”
You are doing the best you can.
If you’re holding on right now, no matter how barely, I am cheering for you. There are so many of us cheering for you, even as we’re shaking and crying all at the same time. You are brave, courageous, resilient, savvy, and deserving of the fighting chance. Know that you’re not alone in this and I am cheering for your upswing.
I’m rolling the dice and going full out — giving all I’ve got so I have no regrets. As my favorite poet and activist once said, I’m going to go out like a fucking meteor.
“I want to live the rest of my life, however long or short, with as much sweetness as I can decently manage, loving all the people I love, and doing as much as I can of the work I still have to do. I am going to write fire until it comes out of my ears, my eyes, my noseholes — everywhere. Until it’s every breath I breathe. I’m going to go out like a fucking meteor!” — Audre Lorde
If you’re letting go or having to let go, my heart aches for you and I’m in awe of you. I recently read about a founder who closed his company — he tried to hold on and fight through this tanking economy, but ultimately decided the best thing he could do is to let go and send his employees off with a bit of what’s still left.
I hope you give yourself permission to let go without naming yourself a failure.
I hope you can hold yourself with gentleness and care that you deserve. I hope you can gift yourself so much love and compassion and forgiveness. I hope you can shake off the self-blame, shame, and guilt. I hope you allow yourself to feel all the feels and truly grieve. I hope you hold your head up high, even when you find yourself applying for that job you thought you left for good.
Most importantly, I hope you can continue to dream. I hope you will. And I hope you will write that sequel.
Being a founder is an experience of a lifetime.
It’s taught me my heart can take so much beating (in both good and terrifying ways) and my potential is expansive beyond my wildest imagination. I wouldn’t trade it with anything.
We’re all still writing our stories. We’re in that chapter right now that’s throwing in all the villains, plot twists, and obstacles for us to overcome. Your story doesn’t end here. We’re all on the edges of our seats. You get to write what comes next, in your own words, and no one can take that away from you.
Take a few deep breaths.
Now go write your story.
