Earlier this month, the company I started, Product Hunt, turned 11 years old.
I completely forgot about its anniversary until I was reminded on Twitter. This led me to reflect on my relationship with my former obsession, a sign of my unwinding.
My buddy, David Spinks, published this essay a few days later. Like much of his writing, it’s very relatable for me and likely many other founders.
Work became my life. It became my identity. If I wasn’t working, I was thinking about work, or numbing myself enough that I could actually give my brain a rest. My company was my “baby”. I was my company.
Work has consumed most of my adulthood. My accomplishments were closely tied to my confidence—both personally and professionally—as well as my temperament. Startups are a sine wave of high highs and low lows. When the numbers were green, I felt optimistic and energized. When the numbers were red, I felt down and often dysregulated. My entire identity and thoughts were consumed by Product Hunt, and I take full responsibility for that.[1]
I stepped down from Product Hunt over four years ago. Strangers in tech still refer to me as the “Product Hunt guy” and complaints continue to hit my DMs[2], but I’m far less attached emotionally today. I still care deeply about the company, brand, and mission it serves within the ecosystem, but without the negative whiplashes and burden of responsibility.
Despite the negatives, the dirty fuel was effective in fueling my obsession. But if I were to do it all over again[3], I’d find a way to unwind my emotions and perception of self-worth from the health of the company.
I—with help from many others—am proud of what we built and accomplished during that seven-year journey. In a perhaps twisted way, I’m grateful for the deep lows[4], and I remain nostalgic for the early days of building the company from zero to one. It was sooooo fun.
[1] To be 100% clear, this isn’t a pity essay for founders. Founders aren’t victims. Starting a company, especially after raising capital and hiring a team, demands responsibility. It requires sacrifice, but how you manage the emotional swings is within your control.
[2] I don’t know who needs to hear this: Complaints and criticisms don’t feel good, but they reflect relevance. At least people cared enough to say something. :)
[3] Although I refuse to accept regrets. They’re not productive.
[4] The Product Hunt story is well-documented in past blog posts and interviews but I haven’t shared the lowest lows. I will when I can.