Starting a business is one of the most exciting things I’ve ever done. I had an idea I believed in, a partner who shared my enthusiasm, and what I thought was a clear vision of success. But within a year, the whole thing unraveled. My first startup failed, and at the time, it felt like the end of the world. Now, with a bit of distance, I see it for what it really was: one of the most powerful learning experiences of my life.

One of my biggest mistakes was believing the strength of my idea alone would carry us. I spent so much time refining the concept, building pitch decks, and imagining how it would all unfold, but not nearly enough time on execution. The truth is, great ideas are everywhere. What matters is how well you bring them to life, how fast you learn from your users, and how willing you are to adapt.

I also learned that the people you choose to work with can make or break the journey. I started with a co-founder who was a close friend, and while we got along well, we brought similar skills to the table. We were both creative and driven, but neither of us had strong technical or financial experience. That overlap became a major weakness when we hit operational roadblocks we couldn’t navigate.

We also made the classic mistake of building before validating. We assumed we knew what people wanted and poured time and money into developing a product that, frankly, no one was asking for. When we launched, the silence was deafening. Looking back, if we’d just spent more time talking to potential users and testing small versions of our idea, we could have saved ourselves months of wasted effort.

Financial planning was another major stumbling block. We raised a bit of seed money from friends and family, which felt like a safety net. But we didn’t anticipate how quickly expenses would pile up — marketing costs, software tools, hosting fees, and so many little things that added up fast. Our burn rate was unsustainable, and we ran out of money far sooner than we expected.

Perhaps the hardest lesson came on a personal level. I thought I had to work around the clock to prove I was serious. I skipped social events, neglected sleep, and constantly felt guilty if I wasn’t “doing something productive.” That mindset caught up with me. Burnout set in early, and it took a toll on my focus, creativity, and overall well-being. I’ve since learned that no business is worth sacrificing your mental health for. Taking breaks, setting boundaries, and taking care of yourself isn’t a luxury — it’s a necessity.

Despite the emotional rollercoaster, I’ve come to realize that failing at my first startup was not a dead end. It was a chapter — a tough one, yes, but one that taught me resilience, humility, and how to approach challenges with a clearer mind. I now carry those lessons into everything I do. And while the startup didn’t survive, the growth I experienced because of it continues to shape who I am today.

If you’re going through something similar, know that you’re not alone. Failure feels heavy in the moment, but it doesn’t define you. It prepares you. You learn, you rebuild, and eventually, you come back stronger — not in spite of the failure, but because of it.