Founder or Flounder

This article originally appeared on Don't Read Without Wine, a substack of stories from the trenches of VC.

THEY'VE ALL FOUNDED A TECH COMPANY! EEK. I AM SO SCARED THEY WILL THINK I'M AN IDIOT.

Truth be told I wrote the line above as a place holder. I was supposed to erase it later and write something smart to convince a certain VC fund to disregard their practice of only hiring former founders. Mamma knows I've never been good at things I'm 'supposed' to do.

Founders are warriors. Founders never quit. Founders never sleep. Founders have a bigger vision and more smarts than I'll ever have.

I wish I could say I don't believe that. I wish I could say I don't have a weird, warm, tight feeling around my eyes while writing that. But I do. I have never called myself a founder. I've typed it in my Twitter profile but that's not real. What's stopping me? My own shit. There's not enough room on this infinitely scrolling page to get through that so let's move on for now.

If I'm not a founder, what am I? Many years ago I was the person that heard his now-ex-husband say he was going to quit his fancy job in digital publishing to become the voice of wearable technology. I was the person that helped buy bushels of apples and dozens of pizzas every month as his meetup grew to a conference and then to the largest wearable tech community in world. I was the person that managed volunteers, tracked attendees, made speakers feel special, dealt with vendors, and coached founders on what to say to investors. I was the person that gladly stood behind my husband, the founder, while he f$cking crushed it and did exactly what he said he would do. But I wasn't a founder, was I?

Fast forward a few years, through a move to SF and a suitably conscious uncoupling, and I was the person that Twitter stalked his way into venture via the cannabis industry. The person that when asked on day one if he could run the A/V board for the live video feed of a podcast (that's a thing, right?) said 'I'll figure it out.' The person that general contracted the building of a new wall in the office and then yardsale'd said office when changes had to be made. I was that person. But I wasn't a founder.

Because a freezer full of weed wasn't enough to tie me down, I recently became the person that uprooted himself to Istanbul in hopes of helping family offices make direct investments in startups. The person that walked the fine line between planning and actually doing. The person that felt starting Legwork Venture Groupe (yes, there's an extra 'e' at the end) was easier some days than ordering an Americano in Turkish. But I wasn't a founder. Except in my Twitter profile. But remember, that's not real.

There's a lot of past tense in all I just wrote. Why? Am I building up to a moment when I finally declare I'm worthy of being called the F-word? Nope. Why not? Maybe because of all the personal shit I need to deal with. Maybe because I don't see the value in giving myself the title. I've seen and done a lot of the things people think of when they hear that word. I've also worked on both the platform and investment sides of venture and have the necessary context (Hey, Semil) to be effective and competitive in the ecosystem. Gimme all the work associated with 'founder' and you can keep the word for yourself.

Wait...I'm not done. Funny thing after writing all this is every 'no' from a VC is one more step along my path towards becoming a founder. LOL. It's yet another jab in my side to bring my retail-as-a-service side hustle front and center. Maybe then I'll actually believe what my Twitter profile says.