Chasing Dreams and Confronting Fears

Ever since I can remember, I've been driven by a desire to tackle big, daunting problems. This drive wasn't about finding easy solutions or jumping on the latest trend bandwagon. It was deeper, rooted in a conviction that the most significant challenges often hide in plain sight, in what many might dismiss as the "boring" corners of our world. That's probably why I gravitated towards the automotive industry—a space not traditionally seen as glamorous but brimming with potential for real impact.

From the get-go, I knew my journey wouldn't mirror the typical startup success stories. There would be no "Uber for this" or "Airbnb of that" coming from me. It's not that I didn't admire those who took those paths; it's just that my heart was set on making a difference where it seemed no one else was looking. The thrill for me was in finding the untapped potential, the diamond in the rough that could truly move the needle (or break the needle as I often say).

But here's the thing about being a founder, especially when you're knee-deep in the grind of fundraising and building from scratch: you have to sell the vision. And as someone who's always prided themselves on being a hands-on operator, I've found this aspect to be one of my biggest challenges. My natural inclination is to focus on the present—on executing and operating within the realms of what's directly in front of me.

My journey hasn't been without its scars. Previous professional stumbles have taught me valuable lessons on what not to do, leaving me with a cautious approach to leadership and management. These experiences have ingrained in me a deep-seated fear of failure—not just on a business level, but on a personal one too. The thought of letting people down, of not living up to the trust placed in me by investors and customers, can be paralyzing. It's a fear that's both humbling and terrifying. The lower your bank account gets, the more this fear begins to surface.

I had the pleasure of catching up with Brian Alvo who, in typical Brian form, called me out on this fear, pointing out how it held me back from fully embracing the role of a visionary leader. The conversation wasn't all that different from one with Brooke Bains a few months ago. I see the problem, but damnit our fears get loud in moments of uncertainty.

Coming from a modest background, the pressure of potentially losing someone else's investment weighs heavily on me. The nightmare of failing those who've backed me, of not giving them a return on their faith and financial support, literally keeps me up at night. At least once a night I wake up to a dream of letting someone down.

But in these moments, I remember that the true failure would be in not pursuing this dream at all. The biggest letdown would be to ignore the potential of what we're building, to let my fears overshadow our mission.

There have been times when I've caught myself selling Tromml short, focusing too intently on our current traction rather than the grand vision of what we aim to achieve. It's a safety net, a way to stay in the "minor leagues" without risking too much. But deep down, I know that if we're to truly make a mark, to impact thousands of companies and change the industry landscape, I need to lift my gaze to our North Star.

This journey is more than a series of operational wins. It's about bridging the gap between what is and what could be. It's about sharing a dream so compelling, so filled with potential, that it ignites a fire in others to join us on this path. As a founder, I'm learning that my role isn't just to navigate the present but to illuminate the future—to be the storyteller who can weave a vision so vivid, so inviting, that it draws people in, convincing them to believe in a reality yet to be created.