My learnings as an entrepreneur
Entrepreneurship, to me, is an art. And like any art, it’s a lifelong pursuit of mastery. There’s no such thing as all-knowing — no omniscience. Success and failure constantly intertwine, and the only thing that truly matters is to keep striving, again and again, toward a better grasp of the complex balance it demands.
« If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don’t deal in lies,
Or being hated, don’t give way to hating,
And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise:
If you can dream—and not make dreams your master;
If you can think—and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build ’em up with worn-out tools:
If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: ‘Hold on!’
If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with Kings—nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,
And—which is more—you’ll be a Man, my son!. »
Rudyard Kipling
My future self would probably say that if I managed to live through my entrepreneurial adventures with even a fraction of the wisdom Rudyard Kipling invites us to reflect on, then I will have been a good entrepreneur.
And I wouldn’t know how to share my entrepreneurial lessons any other way than by starting from this constant duality—between the good and the bad, the highs and the lows, the worst and the best—that these kinds of journeys inevitably bring.
• Yes, building a company is exhilarating. And yes, it can sometimes be deeply painful.
• Yes, it gives a profound sense of freedom. And yes, it always comes with real risks.
• Yes, it means achieving things many thought impossible. And yes, it sometimes means proving the critics right.
There’s always a bright side and a dark one. And what matters most, I believe, is never getting fooled or trapped by either. Entrepreneurship, at its core, is a constant dance of balance and adjustment. For me, it’s about learning from every single moment—to try and do a little better, a lot better, with more heart, next time.
Entrepreneurship. For better and for worse.
To build a company is to take risks. It means, by nature, walking a constant edge—the edge of innovation. It means proposing and creating something new, sometimes even disruptive. And because it’s different, it can be as frightening as it is exciting. It will struggle to emerge and will always face strong resistance.
Just like in a marriage, you have to be ready to live through your entrepreneurial adventure through both the highs and the lows—experiencing the intense joy of seeing your dreams come true, and sometimes going through challenges you never imagined, and wouldn’t wish upon anyone.
Entrepreneurship is never trivial. It involves professional, personal, financial, legal, and many other risks. And you need to be fully aware of them. But that shouldn’t stop anyone. Especially not those for whom the need to create is existential. How could you not create, no matter how risky, when it’s a vital need? An artist creates because they need to express and share their vision of the world. A true entrepreneur is driven by the same force.
To succeed, beyond having that need to create anchored deep within, you have to accept that failure is a possible, and often inevitable, step. Never as an excuse, but as a basic parameter of the journey—one that must simply be overcome.
Any entrepreneur unaware of the risks they’re taking, and unprepared to accept failure, will never unlock their full potential or what I call their entrepreneurial "genius." It’s like a high-level climber: it’s the conscious overcoming of fear—and the ongoing learning of how to do it—that enables their accomplishments. Not recklessness. Reckless ones rarely stick around long enough to talk about it.
More broadly, any player in the entrepreneurial ecosystem—investors, observers, commentators—who doesn’t understand this, shows at best their immaturity, and at worst, their incompetence. And when influential people carry this incompetence, it can be especially harmful and destructive for entrepreneurs. Yes, you must know how to hear criticism, grow from it, respect the legal and ethical frameworks, and always do your best. But you must also learn to filter out toxic comments, empty dogma, or sterile judgments—often spouted by those who’ve never built anything and have no idea what they’re talking about.
Entrepreneurship, then. For better and for worse. Done out of existential need. With full awareness of the risks. And a commitment to learn with each step.
Entrepreneurship, for the better.
The best part of entrepreneurship is the freedom to create. That moment when an embryonic idea becomes a concrete project. Imagining a product, a solution, a service that could change things—and seeing that vision take shape, step by step. Nothing is more exhilarating than building something from scratch and shaping it along the way. It’s a chaotic yet magical process, where every small win feels like a major victory. The sense of total freedom, without imposed hierarchies, allows you to dare, experiment, and dream big.
The best part is also doing it with the right people. The ones you choose to co-found with, collaborate with, and share the journey with. Working alongside co-founders, teammates, partners who share the same passion and drive to make things move—that’s what makes the journey special. It’s far from "just business"; it’s an intense human experience. The laughter, the deep conversations, the brainstorming sessions, the shared wins, and even the failures that bring people closer. It’s a collective adventure where everyone brings their own flavor, their expertise, their vision.
Then comes growth. The moment that validates your efforts. When the first customers arrive. When the numbers take off. When your product gains traction. When positive feedback pours in. It’s like a breath of fresh air. The satisfaction of meeting a real need, of finding your market. That magical moment when metrics start to stack up, sales pick up speed, and the team is finally rewarded for their efforts.
That feeling of accomplishment—seeing your project take off, watching the numbers grow, witnessing the company find its audience—is what sustains an entrepreneur over time. It’s the validation of the idea, the work, and the mission. That’s when entrepreneurship truly makes sense. It’s the deep certainty that you’ve created something tangible, genuinely useful, while being surrounded by people who share that same mission. Yes, the money that comes with it is also an achievement—because it’s what allows you to secure the future of the company, pay your teams better, and reinvest in what you’re building. And yes, once the company is on solid ground, it can also offer a personal return on investment, and sometimes a different kind of comfort and financial security. But it is not—and should never be—a quest for personal enrichment. Certainly not one disconnected from the real impact and financial results of the business. Those who preach that logic—entrepreneurs or not—are, at best, out of touch, neither grounded nor healthy, and at worst, true impostors, if not outright frauds. Real accomplishment lies in having built something that works—something aligned with the company’s vision and mission. That is the greatest reward an entrepreneur can receive.
I’ve had the chance to live the best of entrepreneurship with Deliveroo, with Wave, with Millimetr, and more broadly across all my intra- and entrepreneurial adventures. I don’t know a single entrepreneur who hasn’t experienced this at some point, in their own way. And I wish it for everyone with a true idea, deeply driven by it, and a sincere desire to bring it to the world.
Entrepreneurship, for the worse.
In my experience, the worst part of entrepreneurship almost always starts with relational tension. With your co-founder, your team, your investors, your clients, your partners, your competitors, your critics. Sartre once said, "Hell is other people." In entrepreneurship, hell is often relational.
It starts with your own internal tensions, as a founder. Those moments when you feel lost between what you truly want and what the CEO role demands—things you may not always align with. Speaking in public, sticking to managerial routines, working late on weekends, or needing to sound reassuring when everything is falling apart. All these moments gradually feed a deep sense of isolation.
It’s that feeling that, at times, you can only count on yourself, even when you’re surrounded. The loneliness becomes especially sharp during critical moments: financial pressure, crisis management, strategic pivots, internal conflicts, administrative or legal issues, and the emotional toll of letting go of people you care about. These are intense, even violent experiences.
Co-founder relationships can be the key to getting through it all. But they can also become minefields. What starts as a passionate, shared adventure can turn into a slow-burning conflict, then an open one. Communication breaks down, expectations blur, trust fades. And sometimes, the only way forward is to part ways. It’s painful, a clear failure, and a huge waste of time and opportunity for the project.
Team management brings its own share of challenges. Expectations—often self-imposed—can become unrealistic. Even the most competent and committed employees can struggle to maintain the same level of intensity as the founder. And that’s normal. But it still creates tension and misunderstanding that’s hard to explain, let alone fix. When performance drops, and alignment weakens, difficult conversations must be had—sometimes leading to hard decisions, like letting someone go. Even when it’s the right call, it’s never easy. Doing it well, with care for everyone involved, is even harder.
Investor relationships come with their own frictions. Great investors can be fantastic partners, helping to steer wisely. But their relationship with time and risk is different. Especially with VCs, whose job is to take big risks, stretch execution timelines, and maximize return. Often at the cost of long-term viability. As time goes on, the pressure for quick results can clash with the founder’s longer-term vision. And when results stall, the contradictions become obvious: "move fast and break through," but "be cautious and deliver quality," "take bold risks," but "secure 18 months of runway." This tension can destabilize a founder, leading to decisions misaligned with their values. It’s unproductive and must be managed carefully.
And then there’s the outside world. Harsh client feedback, often unfair and aggressive, can be demoralizing—especially when the team is giving everything to deliver quality. The incompetence, conflicts of interest, or outright fraud by some advisors (legal or financial) can lead to costly mistakes. The media can twist facts to fit a sensationalist narrative, sometimes causing severe reputational harm without merit. All of these illustrate just how much friction innovation can provoke from external stakeholders.
These challenges take a toll. Stress, fatigue, doubt, lack of quality time with family and friends. Not being able to switch off, failing to protect sacred personal moments—this can damage your social life, your relationships, and sometimes, in extreme cases, lead to dramatic consequences.
I’ve also lived through the worst of it—at Deliveroo, at Wave, and in other ventures. And it matters to say so. Because in acknowledging it, we can more sincerely say: despite the darkness—yes, it’s worth it. Yes, it brings joy. Yes, it nourishes, forges, and makes you grow. And yes, as risky as it may be—entrepreneurship is truly great.
Entrepreneurship. And doing it well.
So yes, entrepreneurship is a fantastic adventure—and to truly experience it that way, you have to be ready to embrace it, for better and for worse. Just like when you commit to marriage, living your entrepreneurial journey well probably requires stating clearly why you’re doing it, and with which values and principles you want to carry it through. It starts with knowing who you are, what you want, and why you’re setting out on this path. It means having a clear vision while staying true to your values, without letting outside pressure steer you off course. It means constantly working and reworking your resilience and clarity, so you don’t lose sight of what really matters, even when things get tough. It’s about learning, always, whether the news is good or bad, because that’s part of the process. And this, to close the loop and come back to my mission, is precisely where I believe coaching plays its role: helping you step back, challenge your decisions, and adjust your trajectory. So that, in the end, you can truly live your adventure well.
To go further:
• Deliveroo by Adrien Falcon: For Better and for Worse
• Wave by Adrien Falcon: For Better and for Worse
