I co-founded a startup in my 50s. Here’s what I’m learning
Once upon a time in a boardroom far, far away, I had squeezed myself into a corporate shape so tight that I couldn't breathe properly. My sleep was terrible, and I woke up every day with the sense that one of those broody Yorkshire rain clouds was pressing heavily on my heart. I was in a kind of soporific stupor, bouncing between frustration and disinterest, like a wasp denying its instinct to sting.
I guess I just didn't find corporate life very comfortable, or the rewards rewarding enough. For me, it felt like when you get home and put your shoes back on after a barefoot beach holiday - the sand still between your toes reminds you that something is not quite right.
Yes, I loved the security of a stable job, the pension and perks, the work trips to fabulous places. I loved that I met some incredible colleagues who have since become amazing friends. But an increasingly loud voice was saying, “Nope. For you Sara, this isn't it, and you’re running out of time to find what it is.”
What have you got to lose?
One day, like a Michelangelo-painted finger pointing from the sky, I got a call out of the blue. It was from someone at Founders Factory, the startup studio and accelerator program, inviting me to join the founding team of one of their incubator businesses, Caper. Caper aims to use tech for good, bringing families closer to each other and to nature through stories you play. I loved the concept.
“It is high risk,” said the CEO by way of an alluring offer. “There will be no pension, there are no perks. You might have a salary for two months or a year or ten years. That salary will be much less than you’re earning now. You will have no team to manage. There will be lots of grunt work and you will be in the weeds of everything. It will be tough and we might fail.”
He smiled.
“What have you got to lose?”
And that’s the question I wrestled with. What exactly did I have to lose? I am acutely aware of what a privilege it is to even consider leaving a secure job. But I also thought a lot about how much more useful I could be if I wasn’t feeling sad and disempowered all the time. If I rise, who can I bring with me?
The idea was, and still is, tantalising.
What do you really value?
I had attended some workshops with a career coach a couple of years ago. We did some work identifying my personal values, the things that actually have meaning for me. When I surfaced these, I realised that not a single one of my values mapped out against my corporate path. Freedom, creativity, entrepreneurship, stewardship of nature, a sense of awe, a sense of purpose, fairness, personal growth and helping others were highest on my personal list. But I didn’t feel I could fully express them in the corporate world.
It sounds so simple, but once I had mapped out how much the startup opportunity aligned with my core values, it was an easy decision to make. I quit my corporate job and jumped in.
Back to the beginning
As soon I started my new role, the doubts of course kicked in. Having spent 20 years in senior strategic roles, I had forgotten most of the intimate executional aspects of my job. Hands up, when I looked at the backend of Facebook for the first time in six years, it just looked like an alien blueprint from hell.
I’ve had to relearn it all.
It’s not easy. My brain is sometimes foggy as befits my age and hormonal status.
But I have found that there is incredible power in saying “I don't know, I don't get it, please explain it to me again”. Asking for help, collaborative problem solving and letting others in is a pillar of the startup world. We’re all Googling how to do stuff, sharing what has worked and what hasn't. And because failing is a necessary part of getting to a better place, I feel a freedom I haven't in years.
My advice? Lean in to what you don’t know.
Self-motivation 101
The next lesson of my new startup life was how to kick my own arse. So institutionalised was I, that I spent the first few weeks of my new role waiting to be told what to do.
“Ummm’ said the CEO, “You get to decide what to do. You’re in charge of you.”
To create and build from scratch, I have to tap into my sense of purpose and motivation every day. One way I do this is to keep close to our Caper customers. Seeing the positive impact we’re having on families, especially during periods of lockdown, is hugely rewarding.
I motivate myself by being obsessed with the problem we are trying to solve, our loss of connection to nature, and technology’s promise to really connect us to each other in meaningful ways.
You are your own performance review
Motivation lesson learned, I then spent a ridiculous amount of time waiting for praise. “Ummmmm,” said the CEO, “there’s no one here to tell you that you’re great. You have to know it yourself.”
Eh?
Do I have to high-five myself every morning? No. What I’ve had to nurture in myself is a rare quality, particularly for older women; confidence.
Do it yourself, and fast
Working in a large, incumbent company is like being on a massive old ship that creaks and crumbles like the Osteoporosis I am desperate to avoid. They are slow to move, quick to shut things down, and often sunk by processes optimised for the Golden Age of Steam.
Being at a startup on the other hand, is like being given the keys to a potentially awesome speed boat, only to discover you have to build it yourself first.
So I have had to learn a whole new sense of time and pace. I’ve had to develop the courage to pivot, and be wrong, to be excited about getting closer to what works is a mindset I have embraced joyfully.
Finding your feet
In the six months since we released our Caper app to the world, we’ve helped over 5,000 families have fun and connect with nature during an incredibly stressful time.
That fact alone makes all the uncertainty, the mind-boggling challenges and warp-speed of startup life worthwhile, because I’m doing something that has a positive impact on the world. ‘Purpose over Pounds’ is the thinking that’s giving me the energy I need, even when my hips ache and I’m hot-flushing in meetings.
I guess what I‘m trying to say is, if the shoe doesn’t fit because it’s full of sand, why not try going barefoot for a while. You’ll be ok.
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