nobody talks about this stuff. you know, the “hard stuff”

i bathed in a basin 8 weeks back. yes, a basin. and it was only certain body parts. i’d been on a 10 hour flight. i missed the first one and then narrowly made a connecting flight to be on stage for the british government. there was no way i would have had enough time to make it to my hotel and back in time, so the airport bathroom was the only option.

i arrived at the venue with 5 minutes to spare. i burst out laughing when the woman meeting me asked how i did my eye make-up, because she loved it. i replied: “apply eyeliner 12 hours before said event. do not use eye make-up remover. barely sleep on a plane. use rough bathroom towel to rub along the smudge lines. top up with new eyeliner on a tram en route to venue.” she giggled. all i could think about was a bed at that point. my feet were screaming at me in their heeled confines.

last week i cried for a solid 4 hours sitting inside a bathroom cubicle in heathrow airport. my entire being was fragile for no specific reason. my soul just needed to cry. i did. airport cubicles are not recommended for sad activity, but hey, who said tears choose the perfect place to appear ;) at least i could write it off to a terribly sad movie on the plane when the tears didn’t stop.

a few weeks ago, i bribed a random stranger with a scooter in paris to drive like a demon-possessed soul to skip traffic and get me to another speaking event on time. that day i was in three different countries in the space of 24 hours.

in the past 5 months, i’ve have been in about 12 countries and criss-crossed horizons in the sky at least 30 times. i think i’ve slept in my own bed a grand total of about 21 nights. if even that many. i stopped counting the numbers a long time ago. i have mastered the art of creating an office in the backseat of an uber. i have learnt how to fight jet lag like a boss lady. i have learnt how to put on my running shoes in the most bizarre weather and run every piece of uncertainty out of my body.

i have learnt how to turn strangers into friends really quickly because it is a survival tactic. it’s part of the art of creating “normal” when everything is abnormal. i have learnt to be ever-present because tomorrow is going to be entirely different all.over.again. i have learnt to mentally fight discomfort. i have trained my body to sleep anywhere. i have learnt to avoid restaurants and find a good cafe for morning coffee, a smoothie bar and the closest deli to my apartment instead. these places contain some form of “local” and act as an anchor in my ever-changing world.

i have learnt to create ritual in the everyday by shutting down my day with an “awesome moments” list. i’ve juggled neglected friendships, navigated very hard conversations with people very close to me, and sat with the feeling of disappointing people.

from the team’s perspective: i know my CFO is going through an intense period of sleepless nights as we raise rounds to propel our growth. my COO is fighting hard for expansion resources and we’re holding her back. my CXO is like a stuck record encouraging us to slow down to speed up; my HR team are begging for more resources to serve the team better. my account managers are frustrated to the point of tantrums because they cannot adequately manage all the incoming business. my sales team cannot onboard fast enough. my implementation team are working silly hours and our accounts team spend the last week of the month on the edge of their seats.

the word burn (the amount of money over and above our income that we’re burning every month) is literally seared onto my grey matter. i don’t think i’ve ever watched something so closely. it feels like my own real life baby that needs constant nursing. i’m happy to have a co-parent in the form of a CFO.

this is not a boasting post. and this is most definitely not a looking-for-sympathy post. it’s just a raw brutal honest post.

this freaking start-up life is hard. very hard.

can it be any different?
does it have to be this hard?
can this mould be broken?
is this level of change normal?
is this level of uncertainty normal?
is this an important part of the process?
do i want this?

start-up land as a whole has many faults, but if someone asked me if i could magically wish away the hardness, would i?

most definitely not. i know this with deep certainty.

this battle every start-up faces is essential.

the fight for capital to grow; the process of finding, and more importantly pleasing and retaining clients; the dance to find the right market message; the ability to understand noise:signal ratios in the industry; the constant tweaks and changes to find a place for your product in the market; the constant iteration of investor communication; the balance of positioning resources when they are severely limited; the art of learning to say no to some business, investors and opportunities; the need for speed and quality at the same time are all some of the best possible filters, to ensure that the best ideas meet the market in a beautiful way.

every single part of the business goes through brittle phases and each team member, including me, cracks at times. this is a fact. i expect it. i anticipate it. and when the darkness settles over the team, i sit with it, and i hope that as a CEO, i have done what i need to do, to be able to provide the navigational map that the company needs to move from dusk, through midnight and on into the sunrise again.

there is a duality in the social lives we project out into the world and the reality of what actually happens. it looks way more glamorous than it ever could be. i post the beauty on social platforms because i don’t photograph the urine and the discarded paper towels on the toilet floor where i’m “bathing”. “why not?” you might ask. it’s simple: i’m too busy bathing in the freaking basin and trying my damndest to hurry the hell up outta there to take a moment to capture it for your viewing pleasure. and let’s be honest, we don’t really want to look at bland photos of fluorescent-lit bathrooms when we can photograph the moving street art, the buskers and the sunset we’re all chasing deep down in our beings.

i’m on a plane writing this.

this week the sunrise is in pure dawning sight. the stars are still in the sky which means the night hasn’t fully passed but i’m excited. our world is tilting. i can feel the shift.

the sunrise is in sight because investors want to invest in us and term sheets are making their way to us; our product is getting a lot of attention from the people who we want to see excitement from, we are signing on new partners and the team are showing dedication, perseverance and love for the vision. the sunrise is also in sight because we’re learning about the things we don’t want to be, the clients we don’t want to serve because we can’t serve them brilliantly, and we’re understanding more and more about the clients we really do want to serve.

so, here’s to being open to the hard stuff. it’s as beautiful as the easy stuff… here’s to a continual series of sunsets, midnights and sunrises.