In early 2024, I left my consulting job to co-found a startup with a talented technical cofounder. We were building an AI-powered e-commerce inventory platform, designed to optimize omnichannel stock across online and in-store channels with real-time predictions, sales recommendations, and automated reallocation.

The vision was clear: help retailers avoid stockouts and overstock in a fragmented world.

The moment I walked out of our first big meeting with a lead, I thought we’d made it.

A representative from a large organization had just told us our solution might fit into a major project. My co‑founder and I left super excited, convinced this was the breakthrough moment every startup dreams of.

Six months later, we still hadn’t heard back. When the call finally came, our company was already gone. Even if we had survived, the project requirements were so vague that we would’ve needed a consulting team just to translate them into something we could execute.

That was the first hard lesson: a meeting isn’t traction.

Polite interest isn’t real demand. If I had been more strategic, I would’ve pushed to scope the project right then, asking about timelines, budgets and next steps. Practicality matters more than excitement.

When we started, I believed the best product would win. Or at least the one with good positioning. I wish that were true.

Instead, we ran into problems immediately.

We tried to do everything at once: sell services, build a product, write newsletters. It scattered our focus.

The truth is, in the early stages, you can’t chase every angle.

You need to prove demand for one thing first, then double down. A narrow, validated focus always beats a broad, untested vision.

Looking back, I skipped a step that might have saved us: starting with services.

Before building a product, test if people will pay for your expertise in a simpler form: consulting, freelancing, or small pilots. It gives you clarity and early cash flow. We didn’t do that. We leapt straight into product development without proving the problem mattered enough.

Our idea wasn’t bad. Businesses were struggling to manage inventory across online and offline stores. But we never nailed down who we were serving.

Enterprises and small businesses both looked eligible, but their needs were completely different. Enterprises want complex integrations, long contracts, and proof of scale. Small businesses want speed, affordability, and simplicity. By not choosing, we built something that wasn’t compelling for either. The advice here is simple: define your customer so clearly you know exactly what to cut from your product.

I lacked the skill that gives a startup resilience: a strong network, a technical partner willing to build relentlessly, a budget to test ideas, or an audience that trusted me enough to try what I built.

I had ambition, but not leverage.

And that leads to another trap I fell into: the delusion of uniqueness. I thought being ambitious made me special. It didn’t. The market doesn’t reward uniqueness unless it’s paired with leverage: expertise, capital, connections or a loyal audience.

On the market side, I didn’t have a network.

Not in the sense of thousands of connections, but in credibility, people who trust you enough to try what you offer. Early traction often comes from trust before it comes from product. I skipped that foundation.

Another mistake was relying too heavily on “big meetings.” We pinned hopes on one large client to validate our business. That was fragile from the start. If your strategy depends on one big whale, you’re exposed. Real traction comes from multiple paths: small wins that compound, not single promises that may never materialize.

I now see the value of deep industry context.

It’s easier to succeed if you’ve spent years in a field and spotted clear, specific gaps, like inefficiencies in insurance, fintech, or e‑commerce. We didn’t have that. We were generalists chasing a broad problem. Without insider insight, our pitch lacked weight.

The bottom line is that strategy begins with self‑accountability. You have to pause and ask: What do I really bring that others don’t? Do I have the resources to back it up? Am I solving a problem I understand deeply enough to defend against competition?

What followed for us was inevitable. We chased promises, mistook interest for commitment, ignored the need for sharper positioning, and eventually lost momentum. The failure was painful, but it stripped away illusions. I no longer believe effort alone guarantees success. You need leverage.

Starting a company isn’t the only way to do meaningful, ambitious work. But if you do, do it with clarity.

Define exactly who you’re serving.
Prove demand before building anything.
Build relationships before you need them.
Be honest about your strengths and limits.

And remember: ambition alone isn’t a moat.

I don’t regret trying. Failure taught me more than lucky strikes would have.

But if I had one piece of advice for anyone about to start, it would be this: don’t begin with code, pitch decks or grand visions.

Begin with yourself.

Because if you don’t, the market will test you... and it won’t be gentle.

- a 2024 story -