I grew up in small town New Zealand.  I was an only child so I spent a lot of time alone thinking up things to do.  My first day as an entrepreneur was a failure: I cut flowers from our garden and set up a stand outside our house, selling them for 1 – 20c each.  We lived on a main road and as the cars roared by, no-one saw seven year-old me and my flower stand.  I passed a whole day without a single customer.  That night I asked mum to buy me some balloons at the supermarket, and the next day I tied these brightly coloured balloons around my stand and erected signs and balloons down the street, so oncoming traffic would notice my enterprise and have time to stop.  It worked!  That day I sold all my flowers.  Mum asked me to pay her back for the balloons, so I only made a small profit but I had set the foundation for a life of entrepreneurship.  I learnt many business lessons that weekend: marketing, profitability, but most important of all – resilience.

Poster advertising my pet business (age 10) made on our Commodore 64

By the time I reached high school I’d set up five businesses.  I had run my flower stand, collected golf-balls and sold them back to a shop, set-up a dog-walking and cat-minding business, for which I also employed my best friend.  I sold rides on a friend’s pony at a Saturday market, which made me one of the richest twelve year-olds in school, and ran a pamphlet distribution business where I’d get delivery jobs and subcontract other kids to do the work.  At high school, we were taught our ultimate goal: to build an impressive resume so we could land good jobs.   Every year I’d endure a mandatory appointment with the careers guidance counsellor.  I always told her I would start a business but I wasn’t sure what kind (and I’m still unsure!).   She made me write a CV anyway, writing out the types of companies that might want to employ me.  This was how my school taught us to think about our careers.  I suspect it’s the way most schools continue to persuade kids to view their careers.

This is why programs like Club Kidpreneur matter.   The camp runs from 9am – 1.30pm for four days, with a market day on Saturday.  The Kidpreneurs set up their businesses either as a sole founder or with a partner with whom they’d need to split the profits.  They choose a product to make, set a goal and budget — how many they hope to sell and for how much — design a prototype, make the products, and ultimately sell to real customers.  I worked with the Eastern Suburbs camp, where I mentored kids making candles, greeting cards and jewellery.  They were all so excited, creating real products for real customers; I enjoyed sharing my skills and then watching them learn the fundamentals of business.  Eight year-old Ellie decided to make greeting cards.  The program allowed three hours for the kids to make their products; after 90 minutes I noticed Ellie had only made 4 cards when she’d set a target of selling 25.   She was making each card individually, thinking up a new layout each time.  I suggested she start a production line, doing all the card-folding, then the cutting, the writing, finishing up with touches like stickers and feathers.  We laid out 21 pieces of card, and planned how many ‘Happy Birthday’, ‘Thank-you’ and ‘I love you’ cards she’d make of each.  We decided against phrases like ‘It’s a girl’ — one that she’d initially considered — as it would limit our potential market.  Then she started in earnest.  An hour and half later, Ellie was proud to finish her 25^th greeting card, ready for market.

Danielle lights up after making her first sale!

On Saturday morning, we set up the Club Kidpreneur stand at Bondi market.  The kids came early to assemble their stands, price stickers, and company incorporation certificates, and had business cards ready to hand out to customers.  At first, they stood nervously behind the table waiting for people to approach them.  Along with the other mentors, I encouraged them to stand in front, approach people, and ask if they’d like to look at the products.  Danielle, age 9, was the quietest kid in the group.  All week, alone in a corner, she’d made beaded bracelets.  At the market, she was scared to talk to strangers, so was not selling at all well.  I coached her to walk up to people and ask if they’d look at her jewellery.  Imagine a tiny nine year-old girl tapping on your waist, whispering.  Most said, ‘not today thank-you’ or, ‘I’ll come back later’ but it didn’t matter.  I told her that it’s fine for people to say ‘no’, and she was doing a great job.  After ten minutes, Danielle made her first sale — to another young girl who was shopping with her Mum. Her eye’s lit up as she sold her creation for actual money.  She started approaching more people, didn’t care when they said no, made more sales and her confidence soared.  By the end of the market, Danielle had ripped her stand from the table and carried the whole thing around to other stalls, hustling for sales.  Right on closing time, with a smile as wide as the Harbour Bridge, she sold her last piece of jewellery.  In two hours, Danielle had blossomed from a shy little girl into a confident hustler.  It was incredible to witness the birth of an entrepreneur.

A hustler is born!

Club Kidpreneur is a wonderful organization.  They make money running paid camps, secure sponsorship from companies like Google and St George, and with it take the program to disadvantaged areas.  The company itself is non-profit-making, and through it, kids develop both business and life skills such as innovation and resilience.  They encounter failure and develop self-confidence.

Reflecting on my own entrepreneurial journey, I know my early business experiences shaped my view of the world.  Most people grow up thinking of shops or banks as big faceless organisations that one day might give them a job.  They don’t think about the person who had the vision to start the business, or that they could be that person.

I’m sure many of the Kidpreneurs will go on to high school with ambitions to start something, rather than build an impressive résumé and land a job.   For kids like Danielle, that entrepreneurial sparkle in their eyes guaranteed that life would never be the same.  I’d love to see more kids gaining access to programs like Club Kidpreneur.  Better still, business creation could become part of the school curriculum.  Club Kidpreneur are always on the lookout for adult entrepreneurs who’ll act as mentors and advisors.  Find out about them here and email me if you’d like an introduction.

If you knew me personally, you’d discover I’m an exercise-obsessed, non-caffeine, virtually non-alcohol drinking, twice daily meditating, vegan, yogi.  But I’m not about to preach stress-management techniques; thousands of articles tell us how to reduce the effects of stress.  I’ve read many of them and, as you can tell by my controlled lifestyle, take on each suggestion with zest and commitment.  This summer holiday I’ve been wondering; what are the causes of my stress?  In 2014, I’ll address these causes, rather than adding more stress-control techniques.  I’ve run out.

Before revealing my thoughts about my own stress, I’ll share the conversation I had with my friend Chris over brunch this past Saturday morning.    Chris works for an advertising agency in the city and he’s having trouble at work.  Chris is a mid-level manager who runs a sales team for the agency.  His boss in Melbourne just placed a family friend in his team who, rather than reporting to Chris, has been hired to co-lead the team and report directly to the manager.  Chris is stressed because the new woman with whom he’s supposed to be working is becoming obstructive, undermining him to the team, and badmouthing him to the boss.  Because they have a personal relationship, he can’t address the problem.  He’s terrified he might be fired and lies awake at night, angry and frustrated.  He looks worn out and I’m worried about his health.

I’ve long assumed that being an entrepreneur with so much responsibility and risk, surrounded by uncertainty, must be more stressful than having a job.  But even after my tumultuous 2013, when I look across the table at Chris, he may be a lot more stressed than I am.

Can we access the key causes of stress?  Instead of managing them, would it be possible to remove them from life altogether?  Obviously, I’m not a doctor or psychologist.  But as I sit at the kitchen table of my parent’s house on holiday, these are my thoughts.

Control:

A lot of my stress comes from feeling out of control.  Suppose I’m waiting for a funding round to close and a key investor goes silent.  I feel there is nothing I can do and lie awake at night, heart thumping, waiting for an email.  Chris is stressed because he can’t control his co-worker and her vindictive behaviour.  He lies awake fretting about what she’s going to do next.

Control is one area where we entrepreneurs have it much better.  Sure, it’s stressful when we have to rely on other people, but there’s usually something we can do about it.  The next day we can scope out new investors or cut costs.  We’re never at the mercy of someone else.  Chris feels as if he’s out of control but he’s a talented, hard working guy; he could always quit and find another job.  To remove ‘control’ as a stress factor I must remember that I’m ultimately in control.  There are always other opportunities.

Expectation:

Another major cause of stress comes from worrying that things won’t work out the way I’d hoped.  Much of the pain that I experience, lying in bed waiting on an investor to email, comes from a future I’ve created in my head — a future where our investment round closes smoothly — a future that may not exist.  This feeling is similar to grief.  When I suffered the loss of someone very close to me, much of the pain was for the loss of a future I’d imagined.  I think it’s healthy to hope for an investment round to close or for a product to take off, to plan and work towards those goals.  But I also think it’s important to remember that the future hasn’t arrived.  The only thing that’s for sure is now.

Perception:

Last year, I wrote a post about professional jealously.  I was flooded with emails and Facebook messages, so obviously it struck a chord with many people.  I find it difficult to avoid comparing myself to other people or worry about what others think of me.  I know this is pointless but it’s very hard to stop.   When I compare myself to others, it always leaves me thinking that something’s wrong with me, which knocks my self-confidence.  And it’s crazy to worry about what others think of me because no one actually cares much about what I’m doing.  Everyone has their own stuff going on.  The world is big and I am small.

Self esteem:  

I’ve been thinking about self-confidence this holiday and it struck me; I might not have as much as I’ve thought.  Often, people who seem the most confident externally (like entrepreneurs) are, behind it all, the least.  They just act confident to compensate for that voice inside their head that tells them they’re not good enough.  Self-esteem and self-confidence — that’s a whole other issue.  I’ll write about that later.  I do believe that, through cultivating a deep sense of self-belief, I could kill stress entirely.

Stress is an invisible energy drain; it wears us down.  It doesn’t matter if you’re a struggling startup entrepreneur like me or you have a corporate job like Chris.  We all suffer.  With so much opportunity out there in the world, I want all the energy I can have.  This year, rather than work on ways to manage stress, I’m going to address its root causes.  Then I’ll be able to relax my stress-reducing routines and have a bit more fun as well.

A nice pic from my stress free holiday in NZ

Sheryl Sandberg told the striking story of a Harvard Business School experiment in her book ‘Lean In.’  Two identical resumes, one for an entrepreneur named Howard and the other Heidi were shown to students.  Both ranked as equally competent but significantly more people wanted to work with Hank.  I’ve pitched to hundreds of investors around the world and can pinpoint times when a great meeting didn’t lead to an investment.  I’ve wondered: would it have been different if I’d been a man?  I suspect the answer would sometimes be yes — particularly in the US.  But without performing a gender change, winding back time, and conducting the same discussion as a man, it’s hard to say.  I’m no expert in how different genders fare in business – I can only share my experience of life in this crazy tech startup world and some of the disadvantages and advantages of being a woman on the journey.

In early 2010 I was invited to speak to a group of Angel Investors at a fancy dinner in Sydney.  It was my first big opportunity to raise investment and I was nervous.  I’d practised my pitch for days, arrived early at the venue and darted up the stairs.  A shriek rang out from reception: ‘Come back!’  The porter explained that this was a gentlemen’s club; to reach the event at which I was pitching, I couldn’t use the stairs.  As a ‘lady’, I had to take the elevator.  The guests began to arrive, and as the room filled up I felt uneasy.  Something odd was in the air, but what?  Then I noticed.  In a room of sixty investors I saw no other woman.  I’m not easily intimidated but this threw me; now I was uncomfortable.  At last, one female investor showed, we made eye contact and I felt relieved.  She remains a mentor today.

My first year as a tech founder was lonely, for my friends couldn’t relate to my challenges.  I encountered many new people, particularly as I raised investment.  All were men, mainly in their 50s and 60s.  Their advice was great, but the softer emotional support was missing.  I suspect that male founders have quite different relationships with their investors.  Maybe they’re invited to golf and the pub — that’s different for women.  Now, we have more than 50 investors in Posse and every one is male.  I’ve developed great friendships with many, and have formed a close group with a few other female tech entrepreneurs in Sydney, so I’m happy to report that I’m not lonely anymore.  But it all took time.

The emotional roller coaster of running a tech company is a challenge, one that I handle differently from my male counterparts.  Again this is just self-perception; other women may have different experiences.  Naturally, I push myself hard: I’m responsible for other people’s money.  Early, when I was finding my feet, I’d work around the clock and made a few mistakes.  For a while, I had an unfriendly board who hammered me close to breaking point.  I’ve seen guys in this situation and they fight back, becoming angry; it’s their natural reaction and is expected. I’m not wired like that.  I can become upset and that’s my way of releasing stress, but I soon learned this was unacceptable in a business setting.

As a woman, I think I bring different skills to a technology business.  Most of our team are software engineers.  They’re all male, and I’ve discovered the way I think and make decisions differs from theirs.  I’m more people-focused and instinctual.  I talk to customers, using this information to decide what they value about our product and what needs to be changed.  When I present my findings to the engineers I have difficulty convincing them my research is valid.  They want numbers.  I believe that great start-ups are a combination of customer-based intuitive vision, and the ingenious application of metrics to engineer a good user experience.  I’ve learned that to win over engineers I must back up my assumptions with data.  It’s a powerful discipline, for in combining the strength of both approaches we design much better products.

There are advantages in being a female technology entrepreneur.  I’m the exception, so I suspect my business and I both receive more exposure than if I’d been a man.  I’m frequently invited to speak at tech events and often I’m the only woman on the bill.  I suspect that organisers sometimes make a last-gasp discovery: we don’t have any women.  Other founders sometimes ask, ‘how do you get so much media?’  I have to admit, being a chick helps.  And, let it be whispered, business editors want their quota of photographs and stories about women.  With only a handful of us out there, we probably get more opportunities.

Overall, the positives of being a woman may balance the negatives in this male dominated industry.  I’m passionate about our business and love every minute of what I do — even when times are tough.  Being unusual can be lonely but it can be awesome.  I raised $300K that night at the gentlemen’s club where I was one of only two women in the room, and went on to raise another million or so through their contacts.  Being a woman might have helped me.  I’m sure it made me stand out.

We must inspire more women to launch technology-focused businesses, raising the profile of female entrepreneurs.  Then younger girls may view technology as an attractive career option, with more women drawn into early stage investment.  I hope I can be part of that next wave.  It matters.  Why?  Because the entire industry will be enriched by our customer-based intuitive vision.

That’s why.

Wow. That took me a couple of minutes to process; I’d never thought of honesty like this.  As a child, I learned that telling lies was bad.  To be good, I should tell the truth.  As an adult, I don’t tell outright lies but there are times when I’ve been guilty of exaggerating or omitting facts for my own advantage.  I’d only ever thought about honesty as bad verses good.  Peter views honesty as the access to ultimate power.

If we were honest about it, we’d admit we all lie every day.  A recent study of 2000 Britons found that the average man lied six times per day and the average woman three times per day.  The same study found that 40% of people lied on their resumes and a whopping 90% of people looking for a date online lie in their profile.  The study didn’t investigate the number of lies told by entrepreneurs looking for investment, but it would be interesting.

Peter asks the same two questions after every pitch he sees.  “What is your customer delight story?” and, “What’s the lie in what you just told me?”  He says there’s always one, and as soon as the entrepreneur admits it and opens up with the truth, they can start managing what to do next.

Some lies are big and others small.  Children lie to avoid punishment or impress other kids in the playground.  Adults can lie to gain respect, like a former coffee getting intern who told an employer he’d worked with us as a ‘research assistant’.  People lie to stave off the consequences of making a mistake or to spare someone’s feelings.  Their heart may be in the right place, but they’re still telling a lie.

Peter thinks telling lies is the #1 reason why entrepreneurs fail.  Not because telling lies makes you a bad person, but because the act of lying takes you out of the present moment and prevents you from facing the truth about your business.  Every time you exaggerate a metric, under-report a cost, or are less than transparent with your team, you create a false reality, and start living in it.  In that moment when you told a lie you knew the right action and chose another.  You separated yourself from what was happening around you, lost control of the situation and soon focused on managing the fallout from the lie.  I know people who appear to spend their entire careers inflating the truth and fighting to meet the expectations they’ve set.

Peter’s philosophy is based on Buddhist teachings: the present is a more peaceful, creative and productive place from which to operate.  Everyone knows the right actions to take; by having the confidence to accept your surroundings you can make right decisions and be open to opportunities that come your way.  His commitment to remaining in the present borders on spiritual; only by remaining in the moment, being honest with yourself and others, can you trust that the true outcome will emerge.

Our conversation inspired me to test the theory over the past couple of months.  I’ve focused on telling the absolute truth all the time and being ultra transparent even when I didn’t need to be.  It wasn’t easy but I have to say it transformed my sense of peace, and coincided with the company’s most productive period yet.  Coincidence?

Two weeks ago, I experienced the dark side of dishonesty.  I’ve been involved in a charity organisation for a few years now.  We do a lot of great work in the community, but as a group we’ve always floundered, and our projects never reach their potential.  We’ve had a stream of difficult people in the organisation but I couldn’t identify the root cause of the problem.  Then it struck me: I discovered a senior member of the organisation lying.  Not a whopper, just insignificant tales about why someone couldn’t make a meeting, why emails hadn’t been read, why he was late and so on.  When I confronted him, he immediately admitted them, justifying his actions by saying they avoided irritating consequences.

As soon as I caught the first lie, it was obvious why the organisation wasn’t working.  Within it lay a culture of avoiding reality; no one trusted each other.  The result was a culture of obfuscation and back stabbing in which nothing was achieved.  Volunteers became disheartened with the politics and lack of progress, and eventually they left.

Truth and its relationship to creativity, peace and ultimately success have played on my mind in the past couple of months.   If you’ve read this post and thought, “that doesn’t relate to me – I never tell a lie,” then you’re probably lying to yourself.  For one week, try being honest and transparent about everything.  I’m confident you’ll find it both difficult and worthwhile, and that it’ll make a big difference to your business.  I seldom adopt esoteric business philosophies but its impact has been such that I believe this powerful secret should be talked about.

I’ve not been able to find other articles or books on this topic.  If you have, it would be awesome if you could share them on the comments below.

We talk about the emotional roller coaster of starting a company; jealousy is one emotion that’s affected us all.  If you want a high dose of it, try going to the annual MaiTai conference in Maui that I wrote about in my last blog.  Everyone is amazingly successful, smart, young and athletic.  It’s full of gorgeous twenty-something year-olds who’ve built multi-million dollar companies, often after winning an international sporting title.  It was tough not to compare myself and decide I was lacking – something.

So much did this smack me in the face that I confided my feelings to a few of the other MaiTai attendees.  To my surprise and relief, they all said they were struggling with the same thing.  One highly successful entrepreneur said he thought something was wrong with him because, unlike his friends, he’d never started a company that had IPO’d.  A woman who could probably be a supermodel if she wasn’t a successful entrepreneur said she felt intimidated by how athletic everyone was, and didn’t want to wear her bikini at the beach.

This got me thinking: are ambition and the instinctive need to compare oneself with others inextricably linked?  Does every ambitious person constantly reach for a more accomplished person for comparison?  What about someone like Bill Gates: does he go to sleep at night thinking about how Darwin and Einstein contributed more to humanity than he has?

Speaking for myself, I know I’m wired to be ambitious and competitive.  I don’t remember choosing to be this way and I don’t think it’s optional.  I can’t choose to be different, and have accepted that this inclination comes with positives and negatives.  Sure, it drives me, but sometimes it robs me of energy and thinking time that I need for other things.

How can I make the most of my competitive nature and be happy and peaceful at the same time?    This conundrum has been running through my mind over the past few weeks and I could find very little to read online about this challenge.  I’m no psychologist, but here are a few of my early thoughts.

1. Recognise your feelings, that’s all they are.  For me, jealousy feels like a fire in my head that’s a combination of anger and fear.  The natural and easy way to contain the fire is to mentally bring down the person you’re jealous of.  ‘Oh well, she doesn’t have this or that.’  It’s a natural defensive mechanism and it doesn’t solve the problem.  The first step in channelling jealousy into a positive is to be conscious you’re comparing yourself with someone else and step beyond instinctive reactions.

2. Be grateful you’re wired to be competitive.  Sometimes, I want to beat myself up about how stupid I am for feeling inadequate.  But this doesn’t solve the problem either.  After all, it can be good to be competitive.  The need to compete is a big part of what drives humanity forward – to do things better, faster and more efficiently.  If you’re competitive, there’s a good chance you’ll contribute to that movement in some way.

3. Know who you are and what’s important.  The success of someone else’s business usually has no impact on your life or achievements.  Some time ago, I wrote a list of goals that were important to me, who I wanted to be and what I wanted to achieve.  When I start to feel jealous of what someone else has done, I always go back to that list and remind myself what I should be focusing on.

4. It’s hard and takes muscle.  Recognise that even though these points are obvious and make sense intellectually, they’re hard to internalise and stop feelings of inadequacy and jealousy.  People I know who have succeeded in this, say it took them a long time and a lot of work to develop that muscle.

Entrepreneurs are ambitious, competitive people; this permeates every aspect of our lives.  At the gym this morning when I was thinking through what I would write in this blog, I found my eyes wandering, checking out the success of other people on the treadmills next to me.  Without noticing, I had made mental notes of the speeds, inclines and duration of everyone else’s workouts and compared my fitness level to theirs.  I didn’t even know these people and yet it mattered to me that I was fitter than they were!  Perhaps this is natural, and is part of what drives us to be better, stronger and faster.

When I look around at my friends at MaiTai and the broader tech community – particularly in San Francisco – it’s clear that a lot of success is luck.  Some people took early jobs at Facebook are now worth hundreds of millions.  Others, equally brilliant, worked just as hard at other companies or started their own, but didn’t hit as big.  I do think it’s important to be grateful for what you have and proud of your achievements.  When I have to list my achievements on a bio I sound quite impressive, and for all I know other people are intimidated by me!   I know how many of my achievements have resulted from the good luck of being in the right place or meeting the right person at the right time.   And after all, many people aren’t as lucky as any of us.

Anyone who looked at Posse from the outside would conclude I have an incredible network, so I must be an expert schmoozer.  Our shareholder register includes the founder of Google Maps, high profile Silicon Valley Venture Capitalists, senior executives from eBay, MTV, Macquarie Bank, Wotif, NineMSN and many others.  But I’m nothing of the sort, quite the opposite in fact.  As an introvert, I’ve always struggled with networking.  Here, I’ll share some challenges I’ve experienced and how I’ve learned to build a powerful network despite my natural reticence.

This past week I’ve been at the annual MaiTai conference in Maui, hanging out with 130 of the world’s top tech entrepreneurs, investors and pro kite surfers.  We started each morning at 8am with inspiring and educational panels featuring some of the most interesting people I’ve come across.  At midday, we all headed to the beach to kite surf.  I’m still a beginner so I took lessons from 2 – 5pm, but other than that, we chilled out on the beach drinking beer and forming friendships with people who’d influence and help us in business and life.  At night, there was a formal dinner or event followed by after parties that ran until pretty close to the start of next morning sessions.

Some people can walk into any event and charm the room.  They’re confident, funny and can form close relationships with anyone seemingly without effort.  I always wished I was like that but in truth, I’m not.  When I look around a room at a party where I don’t know many people, I find it daunting to approach just anyone and strike up a conversation.  It doesn’t come naturally.  I’m an introvert, and all these networking events are designed for and work better with extroverts.  This past week has been amazing fun – I’ve met some awesome people with whom I’m sure I’ll stay in contact for years to come.  But it wasn’t all easy.

The MaiTai after party

Am I the only one who feels this way?  My guess is, lots of us go to these events and struggle.  We stick at it because we know it matters, and as we progress, we learn to hide our discomfort and improve our skills.  I’m a perfectionist and hate not to be good at something, but I have to accept that this is just me.  I’ve developed techniques to help me to form important relationships and improve – even enjoy – the process of networking.

1. Focus on what you are good at.

Although I find large informal groups like parties a challenge, I know that I perform well in formal presentation settings or one-on-one conversations.  Instead of beating myself up about not being able to charm groups at the dinner table, I focus my efforts in learning how to build on my more natural skills of engaging people one-on-one, and public speaking.  An ability to kill it at a one-on-one presentation is all you need to build a great network, because if you leave that person inspired then they’ll want to introduce you to their friends.  That’s how I’ve built my entire network.

2. At events have short conversations with lots of people then follow up later.

I find it difficult to form deep connections at informal events, instead I try to have short conversations with as many people as possible, making sure I have everyone’s details so I can follow up later.  Then I’ll reach out after the event, setting up a lunch or coffee.  That’s an environment where I know I’ll be able to win them over.

3. A network isn’t about having lots of shallow relationships.  It’s about forming a few close relationships.

Some people have hundreds or even thousands in their network.  Other than on social networks where I don’t know most of the people to whom I’m supposedly connected, I’d say my close business network includes about fifteen people – but these people are special.  Every year I’ll meet between one and three new people who are just magic, and I know they’ll have a profound impact on my life.  It’s never ‘what can this person do for me,’ it’s a realisation that I’ve encountered someone awesome who I want to be connected with and learn from.  I’ve always thought the whole ‘networking’ thing wasn’t for me, and when I reflect on why my network is so powerful despite this I’d say it comes down to how much I value and nurture these relationships.  Almost all good things come to me from one of these fifteen people.

4. Don’t beat yourself up about not being an expert socialiser.

Some people are born extraverts and some are introverts.  That’s fine.  We introverts have different strengths: feel good about your quieter disposition.  And check out this great TED talk by Susan Cain on ‘The Power of Introverts‘.  I spent years thinking that I should be different – louder, funnier, more extraverted.  Now I recognise the need to be grateful for the talents that I do have.  This is just another thing I’ll continue to work on.

5. Stick at it and it gets easier.

When I think back ten or even two years, I’ve become much more comfortable at networking as I’ve practised.  Now, I hardly notice my introversion and some people are surprised when I reveal that I find large events difficult to navigate.

Being invited to events like MaiTai is such a privilege.  I’ve come to meet so many incredible people, learned a new sport and had a tonne of fun in the process.  The first time I went a couple of years ago, I only knew two people – and not even very well – and I stayed in a house with a group of about ten whom I’d never met before.  As an introvert, I found the whole week daunting.  But I pushed through, and I’m glad I did.  As an entrepreneur the road is tough, but events like these and the people that you meet can make the journey so much more fun, attainable, ultimately fulfilling.

The MaiTai crew at the beach on Maui

‘That’s an easy one’ I said.  ’Just start.’

Mark then explained as well as spending almost every waking second thinking about launching his idea he also has a high paying corporate job that he hated.  He’d been working for the same company for eight years and had climbed the corporate ladder.  They provided him with a nice car and overseas trips but most importantly his job provided him with what, in the eyes of others, constitutes a ‘respectable career’.

‘Well, given that you hate your job, and your life’s dream is to start your company then why don’t you just go for it?’  I really couldn’t wrap my head around the problem.  Sure, you have to live on less cash for a while.  But if the main aim of earning money is to be happy and the process of earning that money makes you miserable, then surely it’s a simple decision to make a change.

‘But my father and long-term girlfriend don’t want me to leave my job. They think it’s important for me to have a secure career and their opinion means a lot to me.’

That stumped me because it’s not a problem I’ve encountered.  I’ve never had a ‘respectable job’ in a company with a car park and fancy business cards.  When I was tossing up whether to start my own music company at age 23 or take a high paid job with Sony Music, I remember the appeal of the fancy title and the seemingly secure income.  It was actually my Mum who convinced me to go out on my own.  She knew that I’d always been entrepreneurial and told me she didn’t want me making money for someone else’s company when I could have my own.  I was encouraged to reject the safe route and make my own way.

Before I met Mark, I hadn’t considered how unusual that is and how lucky I was.  At high school, I always said I wanted to be either an entrepreneur or prime minister but when I went for my annual mandatory trip to the careers guidance counsellor she would reply, ‘Yes, but what JOB are you going to do?  Who’s going to employ you?’   By the end of school, they’d convinced me to become a journalist and sent me off with a nicely boxed plan of university courses.  It wasn’t until part way through my second degree that I remembered my dream.

I think that having the courage, determination and vision to start your own company is one of the toughest, most respectable career choices you can make.  But for some reason, most of society still thinks entrepreneurs are a bit weird.  When my music company was at its peak Mum told me she’d been bragging to some of her friends about our success.  One of them, skeptical that managing bands was a legitimate job, said to Mum, ‘That’s great.  It’s lucky she’s still young so she can get a real career if this doesn’t work out.’   Mum was furious!

Why do people think that being an entrepreneur is somehow less secure than climbing the ladder at a corporate?  When I started my music company I worked long and hard for close to nothing, and with no guarantee that money would ever arrive.  But I always felt secure; I knew I was in charge of my own destiny.  As the global music business imploded, many of my friends with fancy titles at major labels lost their jobs, couldn’t pay their mortgages and wound up in all sorts of trouble.  Having my own company put me in a much safer position.

Now, I’m not suggesting there’s anything wrong with wanting to work for a big company.  We all want different things in life; that’s what makes society work.  We need accountants and marketing people and doctors and so on.  I know people who are living out their lifelong dream as lawyers.

And I know of people like Mark, with the burning desire to create something.   People who are stopped.  Well-meaning parents, girlfriends, career guidance counsellors and other friends echo the same non-advice.  ‘How will you make money? What will you do if you fail? But you already have such a good job – you’ll regret it if you leave.’  They don’t understand what being an entrepreneur means, yet every day, comments like these dissuade aspiring entrepreneurs from following their dreams.

We all lose out as a result.  Awesome products (like the one Mark hopes to make) never get made and companies that would have provided opportunity for many others aren’t started.   Worst of all people stay miserable in jobs that they hate, dreaming all the time about what they wish they were doing.  What might have been.

We must change the way entrepreneurialism is taught in schools, but that’s a bigger topic for the future.  For now, if your partner, colleague, friend or family member comes to you and shares their dream for a startup, first make sure they’ve thought it through, they have a solid plan, have analyzed the market and have the right people onboard.  If, like Mark, they do, then your next words should be, ‘Go for it.  I believe in you.’

And then tell them to watch this awesome interview of Jeff Bezos talking about his decision to quit a high-paying job to start an online bookstore called Amazon.

I recently joined the board of a Bondi charity that runs the local homeless shelter and women’s refuge.  They’ve faced a few challenges recently.  A bunch of people left, some troublemakers tried to hijack the organisation, money vanished, and it all turned messy.  The charity asked to become involved and although I don’t have much time I was happy to help out, but knew it would take a few smart, committed people to turn it around.  I just couldn’t see where those people would come from.

Miraculously, they appeared!  We had a board meeting on Sunday night and two key people joined the group – a lawyer and a venture capitalist. They had jumped right in at the critical time, taken over key operations and saved the operation.  Looking around the room I couldn’t help but wonder what would have happened if we hadn’t found these two key people and if they hadn’t been willing to commit so much time and energy into the organisation.  Without them, it would have almost certainly fallen over.

It got me thinking about my organisation.  How, when times turned hard, one person magically emerges and makes all the difference.  During the 2½ years I’ve been working on Posse I must have met more than 2000 people.  I pitched to 750 of them to raise our first round of financing!  Many people help, offering a bit of advice and some introductions, but very occasionally, I stumble on a rare diamond lying among a valley of rocks.  The key is to look out for them and value those relationships like crazy when you find them.

When I think back and plot the highs and lows of the past 2½ years, someone’s name stands next to soaring to a high or escaping from a low.  They are people who came along at the right moment; without them, we would have failed.  It seemed so unlikely that I’d meet these people at the right moment, it’s spooky!

For example, one of my first challenges was to build the right development team and product.  I’d spent time and money outsourcing, then building a team that I sensed wasn’t up to the job.  The problem kept me awake every night, and I had no idea how to solve it.  At my moment of despair, I popped into the Tech 23 conference in Surry Hills.  I wasn’t speaking; I just thought I’d stop by for a free lunch and see if I’d bump into anyone interesting.  Someone pointed out Lars Rasmussen and said I should try to find a way to be introduced to him.  I had no idea who he was and I didn’t have time to hang around so I just bowled up, told him my idea and asked who he was.  ‘So you founded Google Maps.  Well, I’m having this problem with building a dev team.’  Lars agreed to have coffee with me, we hit it off (he’s an awesome person as well as a genius) and he agreed to meet my current team and give me some feedback.  Unfortunately his feedback was that we were doing it 100% wrong and I needed to change everything.  Within a few weeks he agreed to join the board, then helped me recruit Alex from Google who recruited the rest of the team.  Lars has been a massive support since then; I can say that without his aid Posse would have shut up shop before opening the front door.

Another encounter on this journey was Richard Baker, then of MLC.  One of our early Angel investors was pitching for MLC to invest in his fund.  He asked if I’d meet with Richard so he could use Posse as an example of the kind of company in which he has invested.  I took the meeting as a favour to the investor, not expecting it to lead anywhere for us.  Surprisingly, the Posse concept excited Richard, and he said he’d like to help out.  I was heading over to Silicon Valley a few weeks later and was struggling to set up meetings with major funds.  Richard had all the contacts through MLC; within a couple of days he’d set me up meetings with Sequioa, Benchmark, Accel, Kleiner Perkins and Andreessen Horowitz – every top tier fund in the Valley!   Months later, Richard invested in Posse through MLC and eventually became a formal advisor.  He’s spent countless days helping design the product, recruiting team members and giving strategic advice.

One of the people Richard introduced me to in the Valley was Bill Tai.  When I first met Bill, we had pizza for lunch and he seemed much more interested in talking about kiteboarding than Posse.  But he was energetic, smart and engaging – just an awesome guy to be around.  At the end of lunch, he said that it was great to meet and that if I wanted to put together a round, he would lead it.  What?  I guess it was a combination of Richard’s recommendation and chemistry, but after one meeting he was in!  We skyped when I got back to Sydney and when I returned to the Valley next month, he introduced me to a bunch of his friends who all invested as well.

Building a powerful network isn’t about having thousands of contacts.  It’s about forming deep relationships with a few people who can make a difference.  Lars, Richard and Bill have been and continue to be critical to Posse’s success.  I speak to each of them at least once a week and it still amazes me how these awesome people are willing to invest so much in Posse and me in so many ways.  They truly are blessings and without them I would have failed many times over.  There are two other people that fall into the same category, but they’re modest so I won’t mention them here.

My point is that in the crazy journey of starting a company you’ll come across many people.  Some will offer advice and you’ll have to work out when to take it.  Some will invest money; some will introduce you to more people.  Most will disappear after one meeting never to be seen again.  And there’s a special group of super angels to look out for.  They’re the diamonds.  You can’t see them coming, but when you find one, they’ll change your business, possibly your life.  I try to recognise the value of these relationships and how lucky I am to have them.   And I’m always on the lookout, excited to discover the next one.

I announced my new year’s resolution to my parents.  Mum’s response was that I’d “never manage to do it.”  She asked me what I would do at barbecues and school camp. I replied that I’d think of something.  Well, I’m happy to say that since 1 January 1988 I have not eaten meat.  Not ever, not even once.   I’m sure all the adults I heard talking about their new year’s resolutions broke theirs within a few weeks but at the time, it never even occurred to me that you could set a new years resolution and break it.  I thought that once you said it aloud that was it.  So, no eating meat.

As I’ve grown older, I’ve learned that the experiences you have as a child shape the way you see yourself and the world.  Setting my first ever new year’s resolution and keeping it gave me access to everything I might ever want to achieve in life.  It was the power of giving my word to myself and knowing that I’d follow through.

Noosa National Park where I spent most of my summer

I’ve approached the New Year quite seriously ever since.  Each year between Christmas and New Year, I take a few days out by myself to think.  Usually I go somewhere quiet in nature where I can hike and swim, which I find helps clear my head.  This year I went to Noosa with my family, but last summer I travelled all the way to Lombok (near Bali) and hiked in the rainforest for a week by myself.   I need a few days to process the year gone by, then focus on where I am in life, what I want in the future – who do I want to be as well as what do I want to do.  Usually, by about day 4 or 5, I find that I’ve gained clarity on my focus for the coming year.

I then write down a set of goals – three top goals, both professional and personal, and a few sub goals.  I prioritise my top goals so when time conflicts come up – as they often do – I can think back to what I decided was most important for my year and that will determine how I focus my time.  I started my goal-books at age 20 and have kept the full set of goal-books since then.  For me it’s been a powerful process – it’s amazing to look back at my past books and see that all the top goals have come to fruition.

So, a few weeks ago when I set my goals for 2013, I decided that the one thing that’s more important to me that anything else is to get a million users on Posse.  Some might think this is a bit unbalanced, that my top goal should be personal.  I don’t care.  Yes, there’s a whole lot of personal stuff I want in the future.  But right now, at this stage, getting 1M users is the goal I want more than anything else.  So, that is what my year will be about.

Since settling on this single goal for 2013, I’ve obsessed over how to achieve it.  I’ve read every article there is on ‘growth hacking’ for startups, and I’ve shared links to a few of the best ones below.  I’ve researched how sites like Airbnb, Quora, LinkedIn, Pinterest, Yelp and Path managed to get millions of users in a fairly short amount of time.  Yes, they all built good products – but the interesting thing is that none of these communities grew organically without some degree of slightly dodgy and aggressive practices.  For example, Airbnb spammed Craigslist, Pinterest spammed Facebook through Open Graph, Yelp paid early reviewers, Quora used offshore freelancers to set up fake Twitter accounts to answer questions and Path has been widely criticised for sneakily downloading people’s contact lists when they downloaded the app.  Growth hacking isn’t something I’ve heard talked about much in the Aussie startup scene because I think that these practices go against our culture – both as a country and as a community.

I want to build a product to compete globally.  To do that we must gain many more users fast.  So this is my mission for the year, and like all the other challenges I talk about in this blog, I know this will be incredibly hard and a bit painful.  But the cool thing is – I know from the past that when I set my goal for the year I’ll do everything humanly possible to make it happen.

As always, I’ll let you know how we go as the year progresses!

The rise of the Growth Hacker

How Airbnb became a billion dollar company

How Pinterest is spamming your Facebook friends with fake email requests

Path apologises for stealing people’s address books

Why is Quora using Mechanical Turk to create mass Twitter accounts?