I quit my day job to work on my startup full time.
I, the most risk-averse person in all of time and history, effectively jumped off a professional cliff with no net.
To frame up exactly how brave/foolhardy this decision is, know that I spent years, literally years, slowly grinding away at my legal career to create something close to the perfect lawyer job. And with a lot of hard work, stunning colleagues, and blindingly good luck, I actually got that done.
And now I have tossed it away.
For the first time in my adult life, I am without a steady source of income. (Hat tip to my entertainment industry friends who live like this all the time, because it is scary as hell.) Instead of heading into an office to deal with a list of known, reliable, stalwart tasks, I’m spending my days trying to conjure something out of nothing.
It’s way outside my comfort zone.
I am someone who deals with life by creating spreadsheets and task lists and organizing elaborate carpool rotation schedules and keeping duplicate calendars (seriously; I have an online Google calendar and a handwritten wall calendar – redundancy is a failsafe). I am not a person who shrugs and says, “To hell with it. Let’s just try it and see what happens.”
Except that apparently I am.
And I think I have figured out why and how I made the transition. Spoiler alert: it’s because of all of you. Yes, you, reading this blog post right now. It’s you, our family, and our friends, kind strangers on the internet, and even some jaded VCs, who have said to me and to Heather and to Damian, “Yes! You guys have something here. Keep going.”
In particular it’s our army of mom friends who’ve had our backs since day one. In all seriousness, I think our band of mom friends could singularly, definitively end the Mommy Wars because the support we’ve seen you give to us and each other, despite a variety of widely different parenting choices, is so beautiful and unwavering that it makes my breath catch…but perhaps that is a post for another day.
You’ve taken us seriously. You’ve liked and commented and shared, and you’ve emailed and messaged us when things were too hard or scary or private to say out loud. You’ve added to the dialogue. You’ve verified that there is, indeed, a dialogue to be had. You’ve made us brave.
I am putting my faith and trust in all of you, that you will continue to like and comment and share and email and call and message and Tweet and Instagram and cheerlead for us. I believe – I believe down to my very bones – that that faith and trust is well placed.
We will be asking things of you in the days to come, my friends. We need your stories, your experiences, your voices. And I know you will come through for us.
Here we go. After three years of our little venture simmering away, things are starting to get interesting.
So I’m jumping. I’m ready to see what happens next.
Who’s with me?