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Startups

Day 155 and Momentum

Startups don’t really operate on logic, plans or “objectives and key results” to name and shame. Founders and executive teams get really good at planning and strategies only to have it all blow up in their faces. Generating momentum in spite of startups being incredibly resistant to planning is part of the trick.

I’ve been thinking a lot about the emotions that go into that “no plan survives contact with the enemy” reality of startup life. The past two days Alex and I have been enjoying a victory lap after the 1.8B acquisition of his former startup Stack Overflow. It’s a process of mixed emotions and shared experiences with other families that lived it with us.

But one central theme is that nothing changed in our skills, planning, insight or capabilities after we got the market validation. We didn’t suddenly get better and got rewarded overnight. Our plans got exploded like everyone else in startup land, over and over and over again. Till one day it was worth a bunch of money. Now everyone involved looks like a genius. But the reality is that the momentum of startups live a life and logic unto themselves. No one set an OKR for “billions” nor did they plan out a straight line from day 1 on acquiring customers consistently. No one planned out a ten year roadmap for creating enough value or revenue for a substantial exit. No one micromanaged shit for a decade. The momentum just worked itself out eventually.

And yes I’m using the Royal We here but mostly to make a point. Startups and their teams and the entire ecosystem around them are team efforts. Together we turn nebulously ideas into sketchy plans and eventually great things. Don’t get so wrapped up into the need to manage everything so closely.

A graph showing a bell curve distribution. The two outlier “make stuff”

The momentum of making stuff can and should eventually pull you into your goals. So don’t kid yourself all your numbers or plans do shit. Be the Jedi.

Categories
Internet Culture Startups

Day 154 and Mixed Feelings

I’ve been in a hazy “did that happen place” emotionally after the news that Stack Overflow, where my husband spent 8.5 years, sold for $1.8B. Obviously it’s a lot of money to just appear into our lives. It’s not the first exit for Alex Miller or me. I’ve had 2 acquisitions for companies I have founded & he’s had an IPO for a company he was early to join. I also lived through multiple exits, financings IPOs & bankruptcies as a kid as I’m the child of a startup family. So why does this hit different?

I think part of it is that our other wins tended to come from “faster” companies. My first acquisition came within 2 years of founding. It wasn’t a lot of money but let me pay off student debt & get more stable. Alex was with Yext for a comparably shorter period and when it IPO’d he’d long ago left for Stack Overflow. And that was only a win because he was lucky enough to be able to borrow money to exercise his Yext options or it would have meant nothing. That happens a lot to early stage employees. They cannot afford to exercise and get nothing when a big exit happens. It happened to me when the company that bought mine exited to someone even bigger. I couldn’t afford to exercise. I never had the heart to calculate how much I would have made.

We’ve had secondaries over the years. Sometimes equity gets taken off the table in later stages financings and it benefits early employees. Those changed our calculus a lot when it happened to us. We put together a financial plan and a future as a family with our startup earnings. We made decisions based on whose turn it was to risk & who to run downside. Being a startup spouse means a constantly balancing act of supporting years of low salaries, long hours and stress. And while it’s not easy to be the wife of an early stage employee it’s probably even harder to be the husband of a founder. Startup families live through a lot together.

Stack Overflow was “the” company in many ways for Alex where he spent the better part of a decade and the majority of our marriage working to build the company up. He was employee 32 when he joined as chief of staff. When he left it was over 300 employees and he was the GM of the SaaS business.

When he left Stack we didn’t expect a payday beyond what salary he had earned and perhaps a bit of secondaries. He’d done good work and built amazing things but when you leave you don’t want have the emotional capacity to think about things like big acquisitions or IPOs. When Alex left Stack it was a deeply emotional process for us. A lot of therapy for both of us. Because startups aren’t just the person it is their family that consents as well to these long journeys. Remember that every executive team member or founder has a family that will live through this startup experience too.

After 8 years I knew Alex needed a change. He had given Stack his all. His absolute best. But leaving was hard. In order to leave a company where you invested your whole self (and your family’s) you have to come to terms with how you feel. We cried. We worried. But Alex made the choice. And we didn’t look back. It’s too painful in some ways. You love your startup

You keep in touch with everyone. Alex remains friends with the entire team. We share hobbies & interests and a million group texts with topics as varied as hydroponic tomatoes m, our crypto portfolios and hunting season. We stay at each other’s homes. The bond is deep in startup teams.

Given that bond it’s almost funny how when you leave your imagination on big outcomes can stop. The thing you dedicated yourself to for years is now growing and thriving without you. It never leaves you even if you need some distance.

When we got the call the number was overwhelming. The distance we had created suddenly evaporated. Alex burst into my room where I was meditating and told me the strike pierce. We did some calculations. We checked them. It couldn’t be? It was. The startup had finally delivered the check. We’d done it. Another startup made it.

I want people to know that this kind of largess is mostly random. Everyone works hard in Silicon Valley. Startups are a choice & a state of mind and those of us that chose to do it willingly go into ideas doomed to failure. Or meant for the stars. And it can feel like a crap shoot. Idiots get enormous paydays and brilliant innovators barely make enough to scrape by. The meritocracy isn’t as real as we think. This isn’t to suggest that the Stack Overflow team doesn’t deserve every penny. They do. We earned the payout. The bad years were hard. Miserable. But everyone believed in the community & the power of software developers. But also no one earns these big paydays. It’s a gift. And we are grateful for it.

Categories
Startups

Day 144 and Scars

I have significant e-commerce, direct to consumer and retail business experience. I’ve managed multi-million dollar P&Ls, worked on iconic billion dollar brands and started my own direct to consumer cosmetics line. You’d think with that experience I would be deeply bullish on my ability to pick up and coming startups in the space. But I don’t particularly want to invest in digital brands or online retail. And I think it’s scar tissue.

I’m not saying flat out“no” I won’t ever invest in a DTC business or an e-commerce startup (I have and I will again) but a little bit of knowledge can make it hard to preserve creativity and imagination. Many founders can come out of a space where they have dedicated years of their lives and simply want space away from their expertise. They know too much. They’ve seen things. The scar tissue that forms to keep you working during the long dark soul of startup pain is still tender.

When I mentioned this lingering pain others pointed me to other areas they struggled to hear pitches or invest because of experience. Rental businesses and neobanks from Maia Bittner, certain e-commerce verticals from Lee Edwards, fitness from Jason Jacobs. It’s a common phenomenon among founders.

I’ve got lots of opinions why certain kinds of businesses won’t thrive or have business models that won’t make the kind of return my own personal investing thesis demands. But the truth is that I now have enough expertise to simply know more than is good for me. Ironically this means I should spend more time as an advisor or consultant on certain kinds of businesses but it takes a special founder to coax it out of me. Because I do have valuable insights and I want to share them.

But the last thing I want to do is pass on the trauma of my own experiences. Founders deserve to have their psychological safety preserved so they can build the company of their dreams. Some painful insights from a founder that came before them might help them avoid some pitfalls, but if they take our traumas too seriously they may never find their own path. And that kind of backward looking “it will never work” or “trust me kid I’ve been around the block” attitude can really bring creativity down. So I will always share my honest experience with anyone who asks but I’m hesitant to ever let anyone take my lessons to close to heart. You very well may be the one that breaks through where no one has before.

So when someone pitches me their new retail startup or DTC brand or cosmetics concept I try to be honest that I may nit be the best fit. I’ve got scar tissue. And if a founder insists that I can help I will try. But remember not all skepticism, fear, distrust or dislike is about you. Sometimes it’s all about the trauma of having lived it before. Asking someone to live it again is the ultimate act of trust. And maybe just maybe we get to firm new scar tissue together.

Categories
Startups

Day 98 and Rejection

The other night I got suckered into the infamous Slate Star Codex comment about feminists and nerdy men. If you are already familiar with the general contours of this debate, you can skip the introductory paragraphs and go straight to my theory on the sexual dynamics of rejection in investing. I’ll caveat a lot before that. I read the above piece because I was high and while I would normally not spend an hour on angsty shit, I get tunnel vision with THC sometimes.

I’m an occasional reader of the rationalist community and often enjoy and respect their whole thing. To be honest I hadn’t ever bothered to read the feminist dunking controversies as, frankly, I took Scott Alexander at his word that this post wasn’t really representative of his work, so why would I bother? But again, weed tunnel vision. And boy golly do I regret reading it as I’m writing about it now.

I don’t want to minimize what was clearly a heartfelt and traumatic episode for everyone involved but the TLDR on the piece is basically certain kinds of women do not recognize the trauma of nerdy socially awkward men. Feminists in particular wield a cudgel over nerdy men, who it is argued in this article are victimized. There is some long winded arguments about whether this is a systemic issue. I kinda don’t care and you can judge for yourself. I myself read it as the personal trauma of one man that is being projected out as some kind of theory of power hierarchies. I’m not in the business of scratching up traffic with moralizing on woke politics. If I am, I’ll start charging for the blog.

What I did think was interesting is that we don’t like to talk about how women get rejected and how often we are in the power position to say yes or no. I do believe women to be systemically oppressed by patriarchy. I also think men are oppressed by it. And yes, women cope with sexual violence. That’s not a yes or no situation. Women in patriarchy are granted the upper hand in certain power structures. We don’t really admit this in polite discourse.

Women are the ones that get to say no. It’s a weird fucking system but somehow we have this power. I’d give it back if I could quite frankly. I don’t think it’s biological but I do think it’s true-ish. I fucking hate being the one that says yes or no to advances. I like to pursue but it’s not always an option. I don’t like that women have the power to be desired more than men do. No one talks about the female gaze because lol. Women gain power by saying no. Men gain power by saying yes. How we got here is for smarter people than me.

But I do have a theory that women generally being the ones to grant permission is honestly why pitching capital is such a bitch for women founders and male investors. Women are generally the ones who create desire and say no. Men saying no to women feels weird for both sides. I’ve maybe had one dude say no to me for sex and literally hundreds turn me down for money. It’s a head trip. It’s a personal experience, yes, but it’s also just how pitching works. People say no. Men get turned down a lot and apparently it’s traumatic as fuck for them.

Women aren’t used to it and men like to say yes to women but money can’t say yes to every company as that’s not how investing works. And yes, professionalism exists and, no, it’s never appropriate to wield power over someone’s future with sexual advances. I don’t know why that’s so hard for everyone. Like we shouldn’t be in positions where work feels like sex but maybe we should admit that women aren’t as used to being rejected and men don’t like doing the rejecting. So sometimes this gets grossly out of hand and investors say no to investing money as it’s their jobs (and it’s not personal) but still want to find a way to say yes, so inappropriate shit happens.

I think rejection is just a weird dynamic that’s lopsided with heterosexual cisgendered systems. I’d love to get rid of it. It sounds like plenty of men would too. I’ve always been under the impression that this was the goal of feminism. Clearly we aren’t there yet.

Also don’t read Scott Alexander’s blog comments when high or you too may end up writing about rejection and gender in public too.