When I was winding down Flexweb, my third company, I had little doubt that my life was transitioning onto the global stage. Even with hundreds of thousands of dollars in outstanding receivables, I wasn’t overly worried, nor did I feel much need to pressure my debtors. That was how deeply I believed in my next venture. Contracts worth millions were being exchanged, the corporation was being set up, and while I imagined business could be delayed, I never once thought it could be completely canceled or halted.
What I failed to realize, however, was that in a business where I didn't hold absolute control, I could become a disposable pawn at any moment. I also overlooked the fact that seasoned businessmen are absolute masters at rendering contracts and legal safeguards utterly useless, using any excuse or loophole they can find.
In that regard, I was an incredibly foolish and naive person who raised a victory toast far too early. If I could go back in time, what would I do? I think I would have terminated the office lease after just one year and liquidated all physical assets. Even before that, I wouldn't have acquired more talent or equipment; instead, I would have desperately searched for the next safety net. Yet, choosing that past would have meant missing out on the big game entirely.
The big game. The grand stage. It didn't take me long to understand how the big world operates, but what truly mattered was when in life you encounter the person who teaches you that lesson. Had I chosen to step off the stage back then, I would have never crossed paths with the big players who belong to that world.
In hindsight, it seems I tried to enter the big game completely unprepared. To play in the big game, I needed, at the very least, long-term partnerships capable of consistently sustaining around $10 million in annual revenue. But I was in no position to think about that while struggling to withstand the receding tide of a collapsing developer market. Perhaps I should have stripped away my humanity even more ruthlessly to run the business. I should have minimized costs, implemented salary pooling with mandatory overtime, boldly fired underperforming employees, and cut ties immediately with problematic business partners.
Maybe I was too much of a humanist to run a business, yet entirely lacked the disposition of a follower to work a regular job. Accepting the fact that this duality has both lifted me to the heights and dragged me to the depths, I now look the coming era straight in the eye. I do not want to repeat my mistakes. Desperately so.