Not every startup milestone feels like a win.

Day 365 of 1095

One year.

That’s how long I’ve been building this startup. A year since I jumped into the deep end—driven by the belief that the same tools that helped me heal can help millions of others in uniform do the same.

It should’ve felt like a moment to celebrate. A milestone. A checkpoint. But instead, it came with a funeral. And a broken heart.

This week, people I love lost the people they love most. So I cleared my schedule. Stood by them. Held their hands. Gave eulogies I never wanted to write.

That’s what you do when you’re family. When you show up not just as a founder—but as a human being.

I wish I could say that this week was exceptional. But if you’ve been in Israel lately, you know it’s not. This is life now. War. Grief. Hope. Repeat.

And somehow, in between it all—building.

I’ve spent the past year obsessed with one thing: resilience. Not as a slogan. Not as a product feature. But as a lifeline.

How do we help the people who run into danger—security forces, emergency responders, frontline workers—come back whole? How do we give them the tools to process, to recover, to breathe again? How do we create space for strength and softness?

There’s no perfect time to build something like this. But maybe there’s no better time either.

Some days, I’m a founder pitching our mission to partners and investors. Other days, I’m in uniform, serving. And some days—like this one—I’m just someone trying to hold it together, alongside a nation that’s been through too much.

I keep telling myself: it’s okay. Not every week is meant for progress. Some weeks are just meant for presence.

And even then—I believe. I believe in the mission. I believe in the people around me. And I believe we’ll come out of this stronger, even if it takes everything we’ve got.

So yeah, today is Day 365 out of 1095. A third of the way through this journey.

And while it hurts right now, I know we’re onto something that matters.

To everyone going through it—whether you're building, serving, grieving, or just getting through the day: You’re not alone.

Sending strength. Better days will come.

Eliav.