After an investor’s recommendation recently, I stumbled on this question in an article in The Atlantic about the Grant Study. An incredible 80-year long longitudinal study following 268 Harvard-educated men and how they developed as adults. While most of the Grant Study men remain anonymous, some have publicly identified themselves, like Ben Bradlee and President John F. Kennedy. Simply put, it was history’s longest study on happiness. There were some fascinating discoveries in that study so far, like the six factors that acted leading indicators to healthy aging:
Physical activity,
A mature adaptive lifestyle to cope with ups and downs,
Little use of alcohol,
No smoking,
Stable marriage, and
Maintaining a normal weight.
I highly recommend reading George Vaillant’s Aging Well. If you’re short on time, Robert Waldinger’s TED talk. But I digress.
Despite always preaching to others that they should ask for help when they need it, I’m a terrible practitioner of my own advice. Sometimes I find it incredibly hard to ask for help from others. In situations I should be the expert in. In moments when I don’t think my problems are as big as others’. And in times when I don’t know what I want. While I hate to admit it, it’s often a problem attributed to my ego. And sometimes, unwittingly.
If you had to live your life over again, what problem would you have sought help for and whom would you have gone to?
The reason I love this question so much is that in asking it, we suspend our ego. It’s often easier to open up about the “[potholes] in the rearview mirror” than “[open] up about the potholes ahead” to use the words of Jeff Wald. It’s easier to answer What were you scared of as a child? than What are you scared of today?. I find it easier to:
Reflect on what I should have asked for help in.
Understand why I should have asked for help sooner in an empirical situation.
Then use those first principles to inform me when I should ask for help now.
Your mileage may very much vary. But nevertheless, over the past week, I found it to be an interesting thought exercise to go through. At the very minimum, something to journal on.
The DGQ series is a series dedicated to my process of question discovery and execution. When curiosity is the why, DGQ is the how. It’s an inside scoop of what goes on in my noggin’. My hope is that it offers some illumination to you, my readers, so you can tackle the world and build relationships with my best tools at your disposal. It also happens to stand for damn good questions, or dumb and garbled questions. I’ll let you decide which it falls under.
Subscribe to more of my shenaniganery. Warning: Not all of it will be worth the subscription. But hey, it’s free. But even if you don’t, you can always come back at your own pace.
Last week, after a lovely conversation with a startup operator, he asked if there was anything he could help me with. I defaulted to my usual. As I’m working on being a better writer, I asked him if time permitted, could he give me some feedback on my writing. For the sake of this blogpost, let’s call him “Alex.”
While I expected just general feedback on my style of content delivery, Alex gave me a full audit of this blog. He told me I should focus, until I’ve built up an audience. He also said that I should find my top 20 blogposts, figure which category they fall under and narrow down by writing more of those. On the same token, he recommended I reference Hubspot’s “topic clusters.” Which is an amazing piece about how to nail SEO in 2021, if I say so myself. Incredibly prescient. And incredibly true.
He also recommended I use Medium or Substack over my antiquated design of a website. And forgo the header image. Which you might have noticed I haven’t (yet).
The thing is… he’s 100% right. I’ve done little right, in the sense of marketing and branding. In fact, in the Google search engines, I probably am a mess to categorize, which means I exist in no category. Even in my own words, focusing on everything means focusing on nothing. While at the time of writing this post, a good majority of my content is based in startups and venture capital. If I focused on better branding, I would have doubled down on fundraising, or marketing. Or social experiments. But I haven’t.
Truth be told, I’ve stunted my growth, or my brand’s growth, by intentionally choosing otherwise. In turn, there are only two questions I optimize for in this blog.
Will this make David from yesterday smarter?
Is this still fun?
I started this blog writing for an audience of one. For the person I was yesterday. And if I know the me from yesterday would love it, then I have at least one happy customer.
I don’t write this blog for profit. This blog is my de-stressor. It is my entertainer, yet also my coach. It is my confidant. And it is just fun. The process of learning and thinking through writing – refining my thoughts – gets me really excited. I don’t want to end up dragging my feet through mud. Funnily enough, despite being an extremely, and I stress the former word, small blogger, I’ve had the occasional brand reach out to sponsor content. As you might have guessed, I said “no” to everyone so far. Either I didn’t believe that the product would make the world a better place or that I just didn’t get their product. This is not to say I won’t ever take on sponsors, but I just want to be really excited about it.
I’ve also had a number of folks reach out wanting to guest post on this blog, to which I’ve also said “no” to everyone so far. Because (a) it makes me lazy and defeats the purpose of me writing to think, and (b) I haven’t learned anything from them yet.
And because I write from a motivation of “psychic gratification,” borrowing the phrasing Tim Ferriss used in his recent episode, my writing is “very me,” to borrow the phrasing of readers and friends who’ve talked to me face-to-face before. I feel I can be genuine. And I can be unapologetically curious. I can learn what I want when I want how I want. I love each topic I write about, at least in the moment my pen touches paper. It excites me. It inspires me. And it pulls me with a force I want more of.
As a product of me being me, every so often, a random essay sees a momentary breath of fame. On average, it happens every 7th or 8th blogpost. I have these random spikes of several hundred views within 24 hours every so often. And don’t get me wrong. I would be lying if I said that wasn’t gratifying as well. Other times, some essays are far more perennial and see anywhere between two and ten views a day – almost every day. There are the ones that never make it onto the stage. And live somewhere in a virtual public graveyard.
I’m publicly logging my thought process here as a bookmark for future reference. And so that my future self can’t go back in time and write off my thought processes now in a grand motion of revisionist’s history.
I also know that this won’t be the last time I revisit this topic. My future mental model might differ greatly from what it is now. As John Maynard Keynes, father of Keynesian economics, once said, “When the facts change, I change my mind.” But it might stay the same. Who knows?
#unfiltered is a series where I share my raw thoughts and unfiltered commentary about anything and everything. It’s not designed to go down smoothly like the best cup of cappuccino you’ve ever had (although here‘s where I found mine), more like the lonely coffee bean still struggling to find its identity (which also may one day find its way into a more thesis-driven blogpost). Who knows? The possibilities are endless.
Stay up to date with the weekly cup of cognitive adventures inside venture capital and startups, as well as cataloging the history of tomorrow through the bookmarks of yesterday!
“Use three adjectives to describe your sibling. And describe yourself in comparison.”
I heard this question weeks ago from Doug Leone, Sequoia Capital‘s Global Managing Partner, on Harry Stebbings’ 20VC podcast. Known for having some of the best questions in venture and having led incredible investments into Meraki, Nubank, ServiceNow, and more, Doug loves to ask this question to founders he’s meeting for the first time. My initial response was “this doesn’t make any sense.” But in the podcast, he reveals why he loves the afore-mentioned question.
Before writing a check, an early-stage investor’s job is to answer three questions. Why now? Why this? And why you? The ‘why you’ question is admittedly one of the hardest questions to answer. Even for myself, I struggle from time to time to understand why I should scout a one founder over another over the same idea.
In a short 30 minute conversation, there’s only so much an investor can understand about a founder. There’s fundamentally a level of information asymmetry. Founders want to convince investors to take a bet on them. Yet, investors need more information to be comfortable making an asymmetric bet on them. We see echoes of a similar dilemma when recruiters interview applicants for jobs. Or when a property manager interviews a potential tenant.
Generally, recruiters, like most others, regress to questions like: “What are three of your strengths? Three weaknesses?” Having been asked so bluntly, interviewees, on the other hand, often have their guards up. They pick three strengths that would make them look the best. Equally so, they pick three weaknesses that show just enough honesty and vulnerability where they don’t get disqualified from the candidate pool. All of which exemplify pre-scripted answers.
Conversely, Doug found a way to do so without arming the interviewee’s, in this case, the founder’s, defenses. What three adjectives would you use to describe your sibling?
As Doug shares, “In a law of diversity, two siblings are less likely to be alike than two strangers. And so, how they usually describe their siblings is usually opposite of how they describe themselves. It’s a self-awareness question.”
You might realize the same principle holds when you describe a friend or a colleague or your spouse. The way you describe them often contrasts with your own disposition. “My friend is really curious.” Implicitly, you’re saying you’re not as curious.
So, the next time you talk about someone else, it’d be an interesting thought experiment to see how those same words relate or contrast with you.
The DGQ series is a series dedicated to my process of question discovery and execution. When curiosity is the why, DGQ is the how. It’s an inside scoop of what goes on in my noggin’. My hope is that it offers some illumination to you, my readers, so you can tackle the world and build relationships with my best tools at your disposal. It also happens to stand for damn good questions, or dumb and garbled questions. I’ll let you decide which it falls under.
Subscribe to more of my shenaniganery. Warning: Not all of it will be worth the subscription. But hey, it’s free. But even if you don’t, you can always come back at your own pace.
The goal of any professional in today’s economy is to never have to submit another resume ever again.
I swear this isn’t an original line, yet I can’t recall the person nor the setting in which I was told. Nevertheless, whether this was a lucid moment or not, it has been firmly etched into my pre-frontal cortex for years.
Building in public and growing under public scrutiny – be it on Twitter or a blog or another form of social media – is one of the best ways to build rapport and credibility. It’s a photograph. An imprint. Still, and in many ways, permanent. A record that you and others can revisit and reasonably objectify your personal growth. Those data points tell a story. Either you connect those dots personally, or often times, someone else connects them for you.
“We are all the unreliable narrators of each other’s stories.”
If you’ve been following my blog over the past few months, that line will carry a familiar scent. My favorite and the first line I heard from the best film I watched this year, In and Of Itself. When my buddy DJ recommended it to me, he told me only two things:
It’s about identity.
And, “we are all the unreliable narrators of each other’s stories.”
It’d be a travesty if I spoiled the plot now. The best way to watch it is, like most unforgettable experiences, going in blind. No summary, no trailer. If my word means anything, it’d be my answer to the question: What is the one movie you’d recommend someone who just time travelled 50 years from the past to catch up with the way people in 2021 think?
But I digress.
Street cred is built up not by what you say about yourself, but by what other people say about you. That street cred will benefit you much more than a sheet of paper that summarizes your entire career into a single pager with 12-point font. I wrote a blogpost recently on how a pitch deck fails to summarize the motivations, the story, the wins and the losses behind building a business. So, you should always be fundraising. Always be selling. Always be pitching. And as you build champions around you, they’ll tell your story – by referring you to investors, share your product on social media, and sell you for you to their friends. Analogously, a resume for a job seeker echoes the same shortcomings a pitch deck has for a founder. Job-seeking sucks. Just like how fundraising sucks.
If only life were simple
Every person has a story. If not multiple stories. We are each a product of more than one storyline. A narrative in hindsight, when we willingly choose to ignore 99% of the other facts.
One of my favorite internet writers, Max Nussenbaum, recently wrote something quite profound. “We tell ourselves stories in order to live, but our lives aren’t actually stories. If they were, they’d be poorly written ones: just a bunch of stuff that happens, with no coherent structure or consistent thematic underlines.”
There’d be far fewer cases of self-doubt and depression, if life was as straightforward as a movie script. But it’s not. And neither should it be. It’s messy. But that’s great. Because we can connect the dots however we want.
There are many ways to tell a story. And the best stories are told by others.
And yes, the goal of any professional in today’s economy is to never have to submit another resume ever again. Frankly, after a certain threshold of rapport, you won’t need to.
#unfiltered is a series where I share my raw thoughts and unfiltered commentary about anything and everything. It’s not designed to go down smoothly like the best cup of cappuccino you’ve ever had (although here‘s where I found mine), more like the lonely coffee bean still struggling to find its identity (which also may one day find its way into a more thesis-driven blogpost). Who knows? The possibilities are endless.
Stay up to date with the weekly cup of cognitive adventures inside venture capital and startups, as well as cataloging the history of tomorrow through the bookmarks of yesterday!
One of the greatest blessings I have today is that friends often introduce me to their incredible friends. Two weeks ago, one of my good college friends introduced me to a friend he made down in LA. Sam. A brilliant aspiring fund manager. Cut her teeth with driving impact at non-profits. But above all else, her ability to host dinners with strangers caught my eye and ear. Since I’m a big fan of sharing my learnings from hosting brunches with strangers and socialexperiments. In a short span of a week, we became fast friends. Expectedly, I had to ask Sam how she brought strangers closer together at her dinners.
Last week we jumped on another call where she walked me through her process. “David, it’s easier to show you than to tell you. Are you open to being vulnerable?”
“Yes.”
“Tell me about your life philosophy.” She asked me what influenced the life purpose I have today. Over the next half an hour, we dove into the depths.
The first third was populated by a politician’s answer. I wasted zero calories jumping into my upbringing and why that has influenced the person I am today. Unwittingly then, but in hindsight clarity now, they were all narratives I’ve rehearsed before – intentionally and unintentionally. After all, they were the cookie cutter responses I’d give to cookie cutter questions most people asked.
Yet, after each of my narratives, there would be a brief pause. What lasted only mere seconds felt like eternity for me. In those moments, she was a woman of few words. Comfortable with silence, she would occasionally beckon, “Tell me more.” On the other hand, I was impatient to fill the void. The emptiness was unsettling. I felt like a circus monkey forced to perform and that the audience’s claps and laughs was the only representation of my self-worth. But that was all in my head.
“Tell me more.”
I filled the next third with stories I’ve told before but not in a while. A reminder to myself that I am more than the person who existed in just the last two years. That I’ve had 23 other years than I somehow left in the attic collecting dust. That I am not a function of my job title or the people I surround myself with currently. But rather the accretion of everything before as well. Where the first third was sharing the mold I now fit in, the second third of our conversation was sharing why seemingly disparate events and relationships in the past fit the mold I had just shared. In sum, I was still making sense of things.
“Tell me more.”
I was ill-equipped to deal with the last third. I was no longer armed with the stories I had rehearsed throughout the 25 years I’ve been alive. Analogously, I was someone who just learned what exponents and derivatives were. When my 5-year old cousin asked the fifth “why”, I didn’t have an answer for her. Not like I did with the first four.
In this case, she asked the third “why”. And I was already at a loss for words. I was lost between doubt and anxiety, between shock and curiosity. But it was in the last ten minutes when I finally dropped my guard. My guard where everything had to make sense. My guard against the fear of uncertainty, not just for the future, but for my past.
A few moments of silence passed. Once again, long, but not nearly as uncomfortable as in the beginning.
At the end of our conversation, she left me to wrestle with my own uncertainty. But with the offer to dive even deeper the next time. And I was left with my own turmoiled mind, unable to find the words outside of sweeping generalizations to express what I felt and how I felt it. While I was grasping for the Merriam-Webster to make sense of my inner entropy, she sent me the below wheel. Something she relies on, to this day, to keep her emotional vocabulary from atrophying. In being able to identify her emotions, she is better set to understand them.
As I’m writing this blogpost, her words “true vulnerability is messy” still ring in my head. And it’s in those moments we build trust and bond with each other. And also with ourselves.
The purpose of this exercise and with vulnerability is not to have more answers than questions. Bur rather more questions than answers. And the ability to ask more.
#unfiltered is a series where I share my raw thoughts and unfiltered commentary about anything and everything. It’s not designed to go down smoothly like the best cup of cappuccino you’ve ever had (although here‘s where I found mine), more like the lonely coffee bean still struggling to find its identity (which also may one day find its way into a more thesis-driven blogpost). Who knows? The possibilities are endless.
Stay up to date with the weekly cup of cognitive adventures inside venture capital and startups, as well as cataloging the history of tomorrow through the bookmarks of yesterday!
I was chatting with an engineer exploring new opportunities yesterday. He was at an inflection point in his career and had two incredible paths before him. One, join a product or venture studio and get his hands dirty building different products simultaneously. Two, find a co-founder and start his own company. Both had immense appeal to him. And he was unsure what path he should take, in fear he might like the other path more once he committed.
The feeling of regret is often inevitable. Especially when you have the incredible options before you, but without the luxury of time. We often ask ourselves, “How much do I value each opportunity?” Most of the time we do a quick mental calculation. We look at the biggest value of each opportunity and their future potentials. For those who prefer a more nuanced approach, we create two (or more) long lists of the pros and cons of each. Both approaches are extremely rational.
Yet, there’s still something missing. Either something that gnaws at our conscious telling us, maybe there’s something we haven’t considered. Or realizing that in constructing these lists we’ve made the decision way more complicated than it needed to be.
Rather the question I find that offers more clarity is, “How much would I sacrifice to obtain this opportunity if I no longer had it?“
Humans are naturally loss-averse. We react more strongly to losses than we do to gains. For instance, we feel the pain of losing our wallet with $100 in it, than we feel the ephemeral joy of winning $100 in the lottery.
At the same time, we tend to take most things for granted until they are taken away. There are a million and one examples. We often don’t appreciate our significant other until they leave us. We take our parents for granted until they are no longer with us. The same is true for friends, homes, personal belongings, and memories.
I also prefer the nomenclature of “I” over “you”. Unlike rational decisions, where it is most insightful to abstract oneself from the situation, irrational decisions require a true introspection of oneself. After all, regrets aren’t usually rational.
While I can’t speak for everyone, my best decisions have often been a permutation of rationality and emotions. When the nuance of each decision leads to an incalculable algorithm and frankly, decision paralysis, I find it useful to channel emotional loss as a tool to make tough choices in life. Pursuing new opportunities, at least for me, is no exception.
The DGQ series is a series dedicated to my process of question discovery and execution. When curiosity is the why, DGQ is the how. It’s an inside scoop of what goes on in my noggin’. My hope is that it offers some illumination to you, my readers, so you can tackle the world and build relationships with my best tools at your disposal. It also happens to stand for damn good questions, or dumb and garbled questions. I’ll let you decide which it falls under.
Subscribe to more of my shenaniganery. Warning: Not all of it will be worth the subscription. But hey, it’s free. But even if you don’t, you can always come back at your own pace.
There is an incredible wealth of people in this world who self-proclaim to have insights or secrets to unlocking insights. From parents to teachers to the wise soul who lives down the street. From coaches to gurus to your friendly YouTube ad. To mentors. To investors. While there are a handful who do have incredibly insightful anecdotes, their stories should serve as reference points rather than edicts of the future. Another tool in the toolkit. No advice is unconditionally right nor unconditionally wrong. All are circumstantial.
After all, a friend once told me: All advice is autobiographical.
The same is true for anything I’ve ever written. Including this blogpost in itself.
Over the past two weeks, as a first-time mentor, I’ve had the incredible fortune of working alongside and talking to some amazing founders at Techstars LA. At the same time, I was able to observe some incredible mentors at work. And in this short span of time so far, I’ve gotten to understand something very acutely. The dichotomy between mentors and investors. For the purpose of this blogpost, I’m going to focus on startup mentors, rather than other kinds of mentors (i.e. personal mentors). Although I imagine the two cohorts of mentors are quite synonymous.
While the two categories aren’t mutually exclusive, there are differences. A great mentor can be a great investor, and vice versa. But they start from two fundamentally different mindsets.
Investors/mentors
An investor tries to fit a startup in the mold they’ve prescribed. A mentor fits themselves into the mold a startup prescribes.
An investor thinks “Will this succeed?” A mentor thinks “Assuming this will succeed, how do we get there?”
An investor starts with “Why you?” A mentor starts with “Why not you?”
An investor evaluates how your past will help you get to your future. A mentor helps you in the present to get to your future.
An investor has a fiduciary responsibility to their investors (i.e. LPs). A mentor doesn’t. Or a mentor, at least, has a temporal responsibility to their significant other. Then again, everyone does to the people close to them.
An investor will be on your tail to hold you accountable because they’ve got skin in the game. A mentor might not.
You can’t fire your investor. You can theoretically “fire” your mentor. More likely, you’re going to switch between multiple mentors over the course of your founding journey.
An investor has a variable check size-to-helpfulness ratio. Who knows if this investor will be multiplicatively more helpful with intros, advice, operational know-how than the size of their check? A mentor has theoretically an infinite CS:H ratio. Check size, zero. Helpfulness, the sky’s the limit.
It’s also much harder to find a mentor than an investor, outside of startup communities, like On Deck and Indie Hackers, and acceleration and incubation programs, like Y Combinator and Techstars. Frankly, being a mentor is effectively doing free consultations over an extended period of time. And if you’re outside of these communities, the best way to bring on mentors is to bring them on as advisors with advisor equity. I would use Founder’s Institute’s FAST as a reference point. And Tim Ferriss‘ litmus test for bringing on advisors: If you could only ask 5-10 very specific questions to this person once every quarter, would they still be worth 0.5% of your company without a vesting schedule?
In closing
As I mentioned above, being a mentor and an investor isn’t mutually exclusive. The best investors are often incredible mentors. And some of the greatest mentors end up being investors into your startup as well. Having been in the venture world for a while, I’ve definitely seen all categories on this Venn diagram. Sometimes you need more of one than the other. Sometimes you need both. It’s a fluid cycle. And for the small minority of venture-scalable startups, it’s worth having both.
Stay up to date with the weekly cup of cognitive adventures inside venture capital and startups, as well as cataloging the history of tomorrow through the bookmarks of yesterday!
In writing this blog, one of the greatest illusions I seemingly end up creating is that I know a lot. At least that’s what a handful of readers and friends have told me over the years. Truth is I don’t. And more often than not, I am learning and/or refining my thoughts as I am writing.
I’m gonna be honest. The script for this essay was going to be entirely different. In fact, I had exactly six hundred and eleven words written on another introduction to this piece. But in the past few weeks, I hit another seemingly insurmountable roadblock. Catalyzed by a conversation with a mentor who said: “David, you’ve confused movement with progress.” And she was right. The more I thought about it, the clearer it became. Snowballing upon itself until I realized how far I’ve gone when I mistook a compliment for an insult.
The more I read my previous intro, the more it sounded like total BS. Something someone would write never having experienced true self-doubt. I was my own harshest critic.
The irony of it all was that as I was interviewing other incredible individuals for the purpose of this blogpost, I felt I needed their advice below more than anyone else. In a way, I’m glad that some friends needed more time to collect and share their thoughts. In sum, this piece took me two months to put together. And every day, every minute, and every second was worth it.
As I’m writing this piece, I’m somehow reminded of a line Elizabeth Gilbert, author of Eat Pray Love, said in a 2016 interview with On Being, “Creative living is choosing the path of curiosity over the path of fear.”
The process
In concepting this essay, I spent more time than I’d like to admit beating myself up to get to the “right” phrasing of the question. And each time I thought I got closer to the “right” question, a day later, I would find myself second-guessing if people might even bother responding to a “lazy” question. A low-hanging fruit, so to speak. And the fallacy with a low-hanging fruit is that they’ve most likely been asked the same by others. Probably to the point of fatigue, paired with an eye roll. But the thing is… with the topic of self-doubt, it’s not a topic most people are comfortable sharing, much less in public. And equally so, are rarely asked a question on this topic. The flip side of the coin is that they too are less likely to answer such a question. In the end, I settled with a question I came up with two weeks prior.
Speaking on self-doubt, 25% of the people I reached out to in my existing network didn’t have time to respond. Another 20% refused within 24 hours. And another 20% agreed initially, but ended up refusing some time after the initial exchange.
In reaching out, I used a similar framework as I shared in my cold email template.
TL;DR: I’m writing a blogpost on self-doubt, and you were one of the first people I thought of in having been candid enough to share your life journey. What are some of the personal narratives, questions, or comments you find yourself regressing to when you’re filled with self-doubt?
The longer version: Recently, after sharing my own internal conflict (here and here), I had a number of friends and readers reach out to share their own struggles. With almost half of them mentioning at one point in time that “I wish I were like [insert role model’s name] because s/he seems to have it all down.”
But people, like you, are just as human and as real as the next person over. So, in my effort to use my humble platform to humanize the world around us, I thought you’d be one of the best to answer this question!
What are some of the personal narratives, questions, or comments you find yourself regressing to when you’re filled with self-doubt?
Because I also plan to share your answer in the form of a blog post, similar to a study I did last year, where I asked [names redacted] and some other great folks! By default, I will abstract your name from what you share. In this case, I will cite you as “[title]”. That said, if you’re open to me using your real name or would like a different “title”, please do let me know. If you’re curious as to why my default is not to include your name, this is why.
And I know your candor will help many more, like me, who are going, have gone, and will go through difficult times. So, thank you. I have nothing short of my deepest gratitude for not only your candor, your time, but also your willingness to share your thoughts with the amazing people in this world.
Warmest, David
My only ask
My only ask is that you stay open-minded as you read the below memoirs. For context, this has been the blogpost that I’ve gotten the greatest percentage and number of “No’s” from. In the forms of:
“This is not something I’m ready to share at this point in my life.”
“I’ve been too busy. Sorry.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t think I’ll have time to get to this.”
“I don’t think now is a good time for me to be involved unfortunately.”
It isn’t easy to share what each of my amazing friends have shared below. Some of which stories may never see the light of day without their courage. And I hope you let their authentic voice shine as much as, if not with more respect that you have given me all this time. On behalf of everyone here, thank you. Thank you for giving all of us the platform to share our most vulnerable selves.
Unless otherwise specified with their first and last name, the below names, listed in alphabetical order, are pseudonyms to respect the courage it took each and every one of them to share what they did: Andrei, Annie, Elijah, Harry, Liam, Lucas, Mateo, Mya, Stephanie, Zack
The question
What are some of the personal narratives, questions, or comments you find yourself regressing to when you’re filled with self-doubt?
“I have a rather conversational style of writing. I suspect it’s the product of some natural proclivities and the sheer joy that comes from clacking a keyboard.
“We live in a world where every action has the potential to be a performance. Performances, by their very nature, are meant to be judged—are they memorable? Funny? Heart-wrenching? All of us, whether we like it or not, are constantly on stage and constantly judged. Personally, I get stage fright, and don’t recall being consulted before I signed up for this part.
“My own vintage of self-doubt stems from being judged poorly by someone I need something from. I’m in a position of vulnerability, they’re in a position of power. An old turn of phrase from the Bible, later memorialized forever in A Knight’s Tale, captures what my psyche so desperately tries to avoid: “You have been weighed, you have been measured, and you have been found wanting.” The external “they think I’m lacking” becomes the internal “I’m not good enough,” and by then I’m well stuck in the swamp of self-doubt.
“For me it’s the idea of being rejected, rather than rejection itself, that causes self-doubt to metastasize. As the CEO of a venture-backed startup, this is not ideal.
“Two months back I had a bad panic attack. Wave after wave of self-doubt assailed me for hours after the attack subsided. Just yesterday, I had the minor upwellings of another one. Both were caused by pitches I knew I bombed (ironically, both investors ended up investing). In a perfect world, one in which I am preternaturally confident, the opinion of others shouldn’t stir feelings of self-doubt. In the real world, I care very much what others think of me.
“It’s easy to build stories in our mind to validate self-doubt, especially in the early days of a company when you don’t have a ton of evidence to beat back the self-doubt. I’m still not sure what the evolutionary advantage is to this pattern, to play devil’s advocate against ourselves, but it’s real nonetheless. We all do it. And the cleverer the mind, the more insidious the arguments.
“When this happens, my mind runs to something my dad used to say: ‘What you think about me is none of my business.‘ If I ever get a tattoo, it will be these 10 words. There’s something comforting, almost even glib, that enables me to turn the corner more quickly than I normally would. It’s a well-trodden path that leads me back to positivity, outcome independence, and abundance mentality.
“Self-doubt is inevitable. So rather than trying to avoid it, focus on leaving it behind.”
Of course, I couldn’t help but include Taylor’s afterword as well.
“Unintentionally mirrored after one of my favorite writers, John Gierach. John muses on life’s richest veins and uses fly fishing as his vessel.”
A blessing in disguise
“Self-doubt may feel painful at first sight… but in essence it’s a real blessing… because it helps balance one’s ego + falling for believing in their own shit! If you are trying to learn new things and explore uncharted territories… it’s inevitable to have self doubt. It’s almost like having a sense of danger when you are venturing in extreme sports let’s say.”
– Andrei, Managing Director at a VC Firm with 10+ Funds
Lily pads
“When I start feeling self-doubt, my mind immediately regresses to ‘lily pads’ or landing places of past memories where I feel like I could have done something better. I start to overthink everything I wish I could have done differently in past roles or interactions, and get paralyzed with fear that I will have the same regrets in the future based on the next choices I make and actions I take.
“Here’s a few questions I regress to:
How did I trick someone into believing I was the right person for this job?
Will I ever be able to match the level of success I had with a previous project or was that the ultimate cap of my success?
Do other people perceive a mistake I made in the past with the same level of intensity? Are they as fixated on it or was it something that barely registered for them?
“The things that have helped:
I think through the advice I would give a friend, and then I try to be as gentle with myself (which is a hard thing to do).
I remember that the best wins in life come from taking risks, and assure myself that if I don’t feel some doubt, then I am not pushing myself to grow.
I keep a folder of compliments and nice feedback I have received, and I go back and read through a few threads to remind myself I have been able to get through things successfully in the past.”
– Annie, Head of PR
I followed up with Annie after, if she could shed some more color on what advice she gives to herself, as well as an example of a compliment she finds herself revisiting when she finds herself wrestling with self-doubt. And here’s what she shared:
On self-advice,
“Look at your success over weeks or months, rather than by the hour. A single day may not feel like you’ve achieved everything you set out to do or landed a milestone, but if you can Zoom out, you are doing it right.”
On compliments,
“In response to a tough email I once sent, an executive privately emailed me to compliment my professionalism and how I had organized my thoughts. That compliment resonated because I had put hours of thought into that response even though it was only a few paragraphs long, and it meant a lot to me to have someone validate my thought process and my output. When I am doubting myself and worried my instincts are off, I go back to that email. I also try to put it into action and go out of my way to compliment people now in similar situations, because I know how much of a difference a one-line compliment can make.”
An old friend
“Self-doubt (SD) is especially bad when I’m starting a new project. My first company was deeply personal and mission-driven but required a lot of upfront capital (like most of my savings). I was always pretty good at hyping myself up to start the project but then the flashbacks would come. I begin to think of my mom and the 14hr shifts she’s worked since 2002. I had been working towards affording her an early retirement at the time and SD reminded me that it could all go away in a second.
“One wrong move and I would revert our family back to poverty.
“It would be on me.
“These thoughts left me sleepless, and also [made me] lose excitement in other parts of my life too. It sucked but having gone through it, I now consider SD a friend. Not a friend I’d want to hang out with all the time but an old friend with good intention and zero sugar coat.
“I can be a reckless person at times and can trust SD to be there to remind me that I have a lot to fucking lose.
“It reminds me to be very careful and to hustle like I have everything to lose.
“Whatever causes SD’s intervention these days, I realize it must be really fucking important to me and worth a second thought.”
– Mya, Forbes 30 Under 30 Founder
When you lose
“Say I lose my biggest client and I start to be overwhelmed with self doubt, my go to thoughts / comments / narratives are:
Am I delusional about my abilities? Maybe I’m actually an idiot with an ego? Imposter
What if I had done this, done that. Every little time I wasn’t perfect becomes a possible moment that will come back to ruin me
I’ve always been unlucky and luck seems to be a big part of success, so maybe I’m doomed no matter what
“But then there’s also a deeper narrative:
Maybe I just don’t ACTUALLY want this. I just think I want this. And my soul just isn’t in it and therefore I will fail. I’m not self aware enough
We all die. Nothing matters… especially me and what I’m doing.
A lot of successful people seem miserable. Is this a rat race? Am i setting myself up to fail on what really matters
Overall inability to identify a reason for why I am doing something and why I am the one that can do it”
– Elijah, Venture-backed founder
Self-compassion
“When I think about narratives, I try to go back to the psychology of ‘self talk’–especially when it comes to reducing ‘negative self talk’. Through time, self awareness and an emphasis on reducing self criticism, has helped me to become less doubtful. The question of ‘Why are you doing this?’, if done with self compassion can be a great way to maintain focus and inspire creativity.
“In terms of negative self talk day to day, I try to look at things through the constructive criticism lens, rather than the self critic. The former allows for more creativity. Life can be a challenge, and patience with the process helps me to embrace more self confidence.”
– Zack, General Partner at Venture Firm/Podcast Host
When Zack shared this, I couldn’t help but recall Jack Kornfield‘s line, “If your compassion does not include yourself, it is incomplete.”
What’s next
“Great question.
“I wish I could be of specific help but I do not do ‘self doubt.’
“I have had many many many challenges and course changes in my life, but each one of them created a new path. There are times when I am disappointed that my path doesn’t go in the direction.
“I had originally predicted or hoped for, but I can’t remember ever feeling self doubt. That’s because I always know I will discover the way forward that does work for me in the moment. I tend to focus more on the ‘what to do next’ rather than the ‘why something happened.’ I tend to be very stoic in my assessment and dealings with challenges. I don’t like feeling bad so I tend to create plans pretty quickly to move through whatever challenges I have.
“I do my best to recognize progress and change and do my best to adjust to it as fast as possible in order to minimize discomfort. I also tend not to think of things as either good or bad… just events that happen. The only thing I know I have control of is my response to change. I can’t control much… including the tempo of change. I tend to not look backward as to ‘why’ things happen and focus on ‘what’ I may have done to cause them as well as ‘what’ I am going to do next. In essence, I don’t feel like a victim ever… I own the events and challenges I face and do my best to strategize how to move through them.
“One easy example is this past year. My business model of being an in-person speaker got turned off like a light switch. I then just kept moving and building relationships. I believe the choice we have is to either keep up with the tempo of change in the world or not.
“Another example is happening right now. This past year I began walking a great deal and listening to audible books, taking notes and creating content. It was very enjoyable. I injured my hip a few weeks ago and it has totally disrupted my routine. I am working as quickly as possible to create new routines and healthy habits to continue to live what I believe is my purpose. It sucks that things change, but that is inevitable :)”
– Liam, Former FBI, Author
Personal suffering as a proxy
When talking about mental health, Max Nussenbaum, Program Director @OnDeck Writer Fellowship, always comes to mind. When I pinged him for answers, he gave me the opportunity to quote some of his amazingly candid essays.
“I wrote two pieces on this, one about being a startup founder and the other about being a writer.”
Both of the above pieces I highly recommend. But here are a few of Max’s thoughts that resonated with me the most. Even then, this snapshot will not do the nuance he describes justice:
“Since I didn’t know how to prove to myself that I belonged where I was, I turned to the only method I could come up with: treating my personal suffering as a proxy. The rest of my life becoming less and less put together must have meant that I was throwing more and more of myself into the company, and therefore that no one—least of all me—could question my commitment or whether I was cut out for this. And so I partied too much and foreclosed any real connection with the people I was dating and just generally reveled in everything around me being a bit of a mess.”
“A lot of this was fun, but I was stressed and anxious all the time; there was both a euphoria and a terror in feeling like my life was moving so fast that the whole thing threatened to go off the rails at any moment. I would look around and think to myself, this must be what really living is all about. And whenever I felt like an imposter as a founder, I’d use the corresponding messiness of my personal life as proof that I was giving the company my all.
“Of course, none of this made any logical sense, and none of it made us more successful. A stable relationship almost certainly would have been a support system that helped me be a better founder; at the very least, it’s hard to do good work when you were out till 4 a.m. doing drugs with strangers the night before. But that’s the thing: I wasn’t optimizing for actually making my company successful. I was optimizing for assuaging my own insecurities.”
Doing your best
“In short, I have a simple approach for when self-doubt could come in – in that, as long as you believe you are doing the best you can, getting support from others to help get through the situation, and striving to continually improve, then what is meant to be, will be. If it doesn’t happen, then it wasn’t meant to happen and something that’s better suited for you will come along in due time.
“While it might be short term disappointment, either turn it into a driving force to do better and achieve what you were originally trying to do, but knowing limits, putting in a plan for constant improvement and being satisfied with the achievements as long as you can internally reflect and know you did your best.”
– Mateo, Head of International at a post-Series B startup
Your best days are ahead
“I grew up in a poor, uneducated family, and have for a long time felt like I didn’t quite fit in. To them, my curiosity and intellectual pursuits are deemed futile and a pipe dream. It has also been met with ridicule and mockery. As much as I pretend that it doesn’t affect me, ultimately the people in your family have so much influence on our sense of self worth. It wasn’t until moving out here in 2013, that I felt like I found my family and my tribe. That narrative still bounces around in my head from time to time, but I have worked really hard through therapy and conversations with mentors to eradicate a good majority of it.
“I guess imposter syndrome, is the widely used term for this condition. For folks like us, that may be more deeply rooted and takes more effort to overcome. Am I smart enough to do this? Do I know enough? Am I experienced enough? I’m not educated like my colleagues. I didn’t go to Stanford, Cal, or MIT. What am I doing here?
“There’s only so much one can tell oneself to overcome these deeply rooted self doubts, ‘you got this’ ‘you belong here’.
“I have found that working through it is a journey that involves creating new habits and forming new narratives. Turning the negative self talk into, ‘this is part of the process’ ‘your beginner’s mind is an asset’ ‘I’m not my highly educated colleagues, but my game and perspective is unique’.
“Growing up in South Carolina in my family, so many of the things the could have been cultivated weren’t, and that’s fine. I feel like my best days are ahead of me, and I’ll take that.”
– Harry, Senior Design Leader at a Fortune 100 company
The war between results and doubt
“Whenever I go a month or more without a sale, the doubt starts to creep in. The only thing that pushes the doubt away is a successful sale. I am better at dealing with it now because I have been through so many cycles and ups and downs, but I have never truly figured out how to eliminate the doubt (or better channel/repurpose that negative energy) that creeps in whenever I have a little capacity to do more work.”
– Lucas, Managing Director at an Executive Search Firm
Would she say the same for a man?
As if the world gave me the sign to take this leap of faith to write this blogpost, the first person I reached out to was Stephanie. I happened to catch her right at the moment she had been rejected after an interview for a senior position at a firm.
“I was honest about my career and life. Next time I could speak differently but I know with my resume and the time off I took that I would get the questions I received.
“I just hated the comment she made. She was very complimentary but then used this word that made me wonder, ‘Hmm would she say this about a man with my same career path?’
“The interviewer commented to my friend that I was smart but ‘too whimsical’ for the role they are hiring for. It made me question my whole career path for a second. By the way, I had never been called ‘whimsical’ before… that’s a word used for fairies.
“I try not to overstress myself and that’s why my personality is more chillax, but I take myself very seriously at work.
“Questions I ask myself and messages I give myself when I have doubt:
‘Am I doing the right thing with my life?’
‘What can I do to help others understand why I am taking this direction?’
‘How can I be my number one fan?’
‘Be compassionate with yourself.’
‘Focus on your mental health during this time of self doubt.’
(when someone rejects me)”
– Stephanie, Female co-founder of a hedge fund and advisor to multiple companies
Dreaming and falling
“From my own experience the question of self-doubt sneaks in way too often in almost any entrepreneurial quest. It can happen that you have self-doubt 101 times a day about some totally banal things such as ‘can I name myself a CEO and put it on my LinkedIn profile if I just founded a business’.
“For me personally, those ‘light’ self-doubt questions are categorized more as decisions. Same as with food, just make up your mind on what you want to have for lunch and stick to your decision whether it tastes or it doesn’t taste good. And of course, if it did not taste well enough, make sure that you have learned the lesson for the next time.
“The real heavy self-doubt comes to surface when:
A. You are selling a dream, a vision or an idea, and B. When things are falling apart.
>> A.
“In situation (a), it can often happen when you don’t have enough pieces of tangible evidence, data points, intelligence, etc. to prove your point of view to yourself and others. People will say – your idea sucks, this is impossible, you don’t have the skillset, your team is not good enough, the market does not exit, etc.
“To ‘survive’ these situations and be able to thrive no matter the negative comments and feedback (which often can come from some of the most influential and successful investors and entrepreneurs), I always make sure that before I go out there selling my vision, I truly believe in my idea/dream and that I have done enough homework to personally assure that there is a decent chance for it to come to life. I bulletproof it for myself first before I take that and test it with the world.
“Moving forward with selling the dream, during the conversations I tend to come back to the narratives of others who did something great in the past and proved others wrong.
“As Nelson Mandela would say, ‘It always seems impossible until it’s done.’
“I read so many inspirational stories of successful innovators, scientists, philosophers, artists, sport athletes, and entrepreneurs. And I don’t hesitate to bring those examples up in a conversation to show that someone has done it before even though at the beginning no one recognized their potential or the potential of their idea.
>> B.
“For situation (b) when your project is failing, sometimes it is totally out of your hands (and that is sort of an easier scenario,) but sometimes you do tend to question yourself if you could have done something differently. You start developing self-doubt in your managerial and entrepreneurial competence. Especially when you read so many headlines about the success of other entrepreneurs that raised 100s of millions or exited their companies at some mind-boggling valuations.
“In those moments, I do two things:
I rationalize by going back in the past and rewinding all the small achievements we made along the way. While doing that, I express deep gratitude for every single small step I made. As an example, we never raised from a Tier 1 VC but we met a lot of them and with some, we had multiple rounds of conversations. I am deeply grateful for even hearing back from them, for every moment they took to review my deck and learn more about our project. Success is the path and the process itself, not the final outcome. And that is what I remind myself of, in case the self-doubt comes to surface.
I ask myself if I did put in my perfect effort because that is all I could have done. As Sam Altman said, one needs a great idea, a great product, a great team, and great execution. Even if you have all four of these you may still fail. The outcome is something like idea x product x execution x team x luck, where luck is a random number between zero and ten thousand. Knowing that at the end of the day we are only in control of our thoughts, intentions, and reactions I end up asking myself – am I a satisfied with my input and work and did I do my best and put in the perfect effort? And the answer to that question brings me to a rationale that is beyond self-doubt and is actually the basic building block of self-confidence. This really helps to turn doubt into a strength!”
I know that not every story will resonate. Some may never resonate. Some will grow on you over time. Others will find meaning into your life when you least expect them to. My purpose for starting this blogpost is to freeze these stories and life lessons in amber for when you find yourself needing them the most. Life’s not easy. Neither is it meant to be. But hopefully, you’ll find comfort knowing you are not alone.
At the end of the day, all advice is autobiographical. Or as Kevin Kelly, co-founder of WIRED magazine, once wrote, “Advice like these are not laws. They are like hats. If one doesn’t fit, try another.” What you’ve read above are the advice, stories, autobiographies. Anecdotes that hopefully shed more light into the elements of humanity many of us, including myself, have been scared to talk about.
A good buddy of mine made me watch a movie recently. It couldn’t have been more timely. He told me nothing more than this one line from that movie:
“We are all the unreliable narrators of each other’s stories.”
So I watched it. I won’t tell you the name of the movie or what it’s about, but if you use the above quote in your search query, you’ll find it. And if you’re like me, and so many others, who struggle with identity and your place in the world – either now or in the past, it’ll change the way you see the world and the people around you.
Thank you Taylor, Max, Janko and everyone else who made this piece possible!
#unfiltered is a series where I share my raw thoughts and unfiltered commentary about anything and everything. It’s not designed to go down smoothly like the best cup of cappuccino you’ve ever had (although here‘s where I found mine), more like the lonely coffee bean still struggling to find its identity (which also may one day find its way into a more thesis-driven blogpost). Who knows? The possibilities are endless.
Stay up to date with the weekly cup of cognitive adventures inside venture capital and startups, as well as cataloging the history of tomorrow through the bookmarks of yesterday!
You may have noticed that after only two essays including an audio reading, I’ve stopped. Initially, I wanted to pair audio with every essay as an alternative to reading the essay. But over the past few weeks, partly due to an increase in workload, recording my audio became a seemingly arduous task for me. A frictional step. A barrier to entry. Not that it takes long to record, but editing my own speaking quirks and breaths (oh boy, if you only knew how great this mic was at picking up every breath. I sound like I have sinus problems.) in each clip accounted for an additional half-hour usually. And that same frictional step left me with a backlog of recordings that I had to do, even though the content was ready. Which:
Slowed down my production schedule (at the time of writing this blog post, I have five fully written blog posts I’ve been meaning to put out, but held back due to recording procrastination)
Became an excuse to myself of why I couldn’t produce content on the same schedule as I used to
Going forward, I’m not going to give myself that excuse. I will record audio to accompany an essay, on two conditions:
For essays I personally really like and have time to record for
Retroactively, if you, my readers, reach out and want an “audiobook” version of your favorite pieces on this blog. I won’t be able to fulfill every single request, although I’ll do my best to, but I’ll prioritize the ones with more requests.
So, please bear with me. The goal is still for me to read every blogpost. I’m working on being able to do all the above more efficiently. I’m testing out new formats as time allows. A couple things I’ve tried so far:
Getting a pop filter to filter out high-pitched consonant sounds
Finish writing before I head to bed and waking up earlier and recording at 6am
None has fully resonated just yet. And it really makes me admire the work of audio engineers and voice actors and actresses each passing day.
Stay tuned!
Stay up to date with the weekly cup of cognitive adventures inside venture capital and startups, as well as cataloging the history of tomorrow through the bookmarks of yesterday!
By far, this is one of my favorite and most recurring questions over the years. And not just in the scope of founders, I’ve asked the same question for a multitude of titles:
Investors
On a similar note, I’ve asked investors: What’s the difference between a great investor and a great board member?
And it yielded some insightful answers.
Leaders
Managers
Executive hire
Marketers
Chefs (both since I was co-hosting a cooking competition in 2019 and 2020, but also for culinary tips to improve my own cooking)
Artists
Software engineers (when you’re hiring folks who are in a field you don’t have a strong competence in)
Auto mechanics (yes, when you drive a 2009 mommy van, it visits the shop more often than you’d like, but also funnily enough, one of the most reliable cars)
Friend versus best friend
Life partner
… just to name a few.
I love this question since its counterpart is often asked: What is the difference between a bad and a good founder? Unfortunately, the “bad vs good” dichotomy usually ends up being a vanity question. You don’t need a trained eye and years of experience for the average person to differentiate between a bad and a good. If you’re reasonably logical, you can tell the difference between a bad and a good in any industry. There are a few exceptions, like art, especially modern or abstract art. But the case holds for most other cases.
On the flip side, to be able to differentiate:
The good – top quartile (25%)
The great – top decile (10%)
And the epic – top percentile (1%)
… becomes increasingly more and more difficult the higher up you’re going. As the power law and the Pareto principle goes, the top 20% accounts for 80% of the results. In other words, the small top-performing minority account for the vast majority of the returns. For instance, the top 20% of VCs account for 80% of the industry’s returns. And the higher you go up in differentiation – from good to great to epic – the smaller the delta in inputs between the tiers. There is a far smaller difference in inputs between the top 1% and the top 2%, compared to the same percentile difference between the 50th and the 49th percentile.
Having said that, to a layperson, the most insightful answer you can get that will save you years of mistakes and failures and industry know-how is the differential between the top performers. As such, usually, I get answers that would have otherwise required a keener eye, much smarter brain, a more resilient body, and a more differentiated path than I have.
For example, here are some answers I’ve learned over the years that differentiate the good from the great:
VP Sales hire. Their ability to hire two rock-star directors from their network within 1-2 months of being hired.
Chef. Their morning routine, starting from how they set their palate in the morning to how they build a robust supply network.
Founder. Their ability to raise their team members’ potential and how close of a pulse they keep to their operating expenses/burn rate.
Manager. How radically candid they can be.
Of course, it’s one thing to know what are the differentiators and another thing to understand the differentiators. The latter requires you to internalize and cut your teeth so that you can understand the true value behind the answers to the above question.
The DGQ series is a series dedicated to my process of question discovery and execution. When curiosity is the why, DGQ is the how. It’s an inside scoop of what goes on in my noggin’. My hope is that it offers some illumination to you, my readers, so you can tackle the world and build relationships with my best tools at your disposal. It also happens to stand for damn good questions, or dumb and garbled questions. I’ll let you decide which it falls under.
Subscribe to more of my shenaniganery. Warning: Not all of it will be worth the subscription. But hey, it’s free. But even if you don’t, you can always come back at your own pace.
