The Real Story of My Entrepreneurial Journey: PART 2 – Too _____ to Give Up (Insert Adjective of Your Choice)

Previously, in Part One of the real story of my entrepreneurial journey…

Fueled by the hardheaded belief that there is no ‘right’ way of doing things, I navigated through the typical business grad career job in the financial industry in my early post-university years. Frustrated by the feeling of ‘living a double life’ I eventually took the leap into entrepreneurship and launched The Sedge from South America thanks to the 6-month runway afforded by Start Up Chile business incubator program. (if you missed the full Part One of my business story, read it HERE)

If Part 1 of my journey was a perfect storm, Part 2 was trying on every possible piece of waterproof clothing, being disappointed to find that most contained holes, and somehow weathering the torrential downpour long enough to enjoy the rainbow once the sky cleared.

As someone who used to regularly sleep in until noon on weekends (and still can on occasion) and complained when my dad parked at the far end of the lot, you wouldn’t be wrong to say I’m generally a lazy person.

There are really only two activities in my life where I can confidently say I’m more tenacious than the average bear.

One is snowboarding.

I learned to snowboard when I was 12. Despite having skied since I was little, skiing felt like a giant hassle that I would rather avoid. On the other hand, I couldn’t wait to get out to the mountains to snowboard for as many days as I could squeeze (and find rides for) in a season. It took me a solid two years before I could finally get down the hill without smashing into my knees/tailbone/elbows/face/friend the entire way down – all with giddy anticipation of heading out again the next day. Now, that is staying power!

The illogical perseverance eventually paid off; I became the girl who kept up with the boys, took summersault starts on the hill, and held my own when random teenagers at the top of the gondola challenged me to an impromptu race to the bottom.

The second activity where I’ve demonstrated more staying power than I thought possible is building a business.

We probably had this conversation many times over the past six years, but one day in particular sticks out. Jordan and I were camped out in the backyard one day, soaking up the sun, him with a novel on his lap, me with a podcast paused, both with a cold beer, somehow veering into the topic of my depressing state of affairs in the ‘results’ (code = money) department of entrepreneurship.

I was busy to be sure, and that was part of the problem. How could I be working so hard for so long and still not have a steady stream of customers coming through the virtual door? It didn’t add up.

We’re taught in school that the more effort you put in, the better results you get. Study more, get a higher grade.

Simple.

Except that building a business doesn’t work like that. There are zero rewards for hard work. And outsized results aren’t produced with sheer effort alone. (Just ask the person who accidentally invented the post-it note.)

As any well-meaning friend or family member who cares about your sanity (and maybe your contribution to the household income) Jordan was patiently inquiring to better wrap his head around my unrelenting pursuit of something that didn’t seem to be paying off.

I remember being at a loss for words. For all the ‘lean startup principles’ drilled into my head throughout my six-month crash course in startup land in Chile, I couldn’t quite explain why the experiment needed to keep going. All I could muster was that if I still felt such a pull to put in the time and effort, despite all roads leading to ‘quitsville’, then I simply had to keep going.

That feeling that I didn’t want to stop had to be worth enough to keep going.

This is not to say I blindly charged on taking the same fruitless steps over and over again. To quote my boss from my banking days (speaking to the practice of basing a new annual loan review on last year’s info): “Shit in, Shit out”.

I charged ahead with a blind optimism that the ‘next thing’ would solve everything.

Instead, I learned that entrepreneurship is truly a slow burn.

It’s taking each delicate moment of awareness, insight, and experience, and slowly stockpiling it in a corner of your dimly lit office. This curation is interwoven with moments of standing and staring at your pile of knowledge with a puzzled look, with your hand on your chin in deep thought. Then comes careful rearrangement of the bits and pieces into new designs, over and over again until they start to take some kind of recognizable shape (and the office slowly brightens!). A shape emerges that means something to you and is (miraculously) recognizable and celebrated by some of your favorite people.

I imagine it’s glimpses of this feeling that keeps the entrepreneurial spirit ignited, even in low moments.

There were many low times over the years. Days going in circles with ideas of what do implement next. Endless internet searches looking for information about what actually WORKS when building a business. Getting distracted from true progress (i.e. connecting with potential customers) with pointless website updates, technical wormholes, and webinars on everything from Pinterest to SEO.

I’ll never stop learning, but now I know WHAT to focus on, WHEN. Honing this skill alone is a life-changer.

But it took me a LOT of trial and error to get there; my brain was focused on a strange and wonderful cross-section of activities over the past six years.

That’s in part because I said yes to every opportunity that came my way. If it was remotely social enterprise related, I jumped on it. It was years in a whirlwind of learning anything and everything.