There’s something really vulnerable about starting a new company or a new venture.
First, you get excited. You daydream about what could be. The magic you’ll create for customers. The kind of team you’ll build, the people you’ll enroll in a shared vision. The community you can construct that will have you kicking off your covers each morning ready to joyfully create.
But then, the voice of the imposter seeps in.
“Who am I to build something great?”
“What makes me think I’m capable of XYZ?”
“What if I… can’t?”
There’s a temptation to lay low. To build quietly. To make sure that if you fail…. no one saw you trying too hard or beating your chest.
It’s almost like the internal version of tall poppy syndrome. You cut yourself down before anyone else can. You think about putting yourself out there and it just feels… ICK.
But most entrepreneurs that made it out the other side battled the ick and put themselves out there anyway. They grimaced, shouted “this might not work!” and lept into the unknown.
My Earliest Ick
I have a really vivid memory of one of the first moments like this for Sercante. I was 3 months into the business. I had been introducing myself as a “freelancer” in most settings. I had no employees. I had 3 small clients.
But I had the opportunity to meet my hero Adam Blitzer, the founder of Pardot. He asked what I did, so I took a deep breath and said:
“I’m the founder of Sercante. We’re a boutique Pardot consultancy and we’re going to do $1M in our first year of business.”
He nodded, and said:
“Cool. Glad you’re here.”
I’m sure this was a completely uneventful interaction from his POV (he was also super sick and under the influence of a lot of cold medicine.) But it was monumental to me.
I fought the ick, and said who I wanted to be out loud. And that was the first step to making it happen (and we did, in fact hit $1M in year 1… though I had no basis other than hustle for making that statement at the early stage!)
Leaning into The Ick as a Daily Practice
The Spot for Pardot is one giant case study of leaning into The Ick.
Every single time I wrote a post about what I was learning while building on the platform, I felt kind of dumb. I wondered:
“Is this even insighful?”
“Does everyone else know this already?”
“Will anyone even read this?”
But I deprogrammed myself to just… not care. I would write it, proof it, dust off The Ick, and post.
I’m really glad I did.
So many beautiful things came out of likeminded marketing tech folks stumbling across The Spot for Pardot. It helped us find customers who knew EXACTLY what they needed and were well educated on their options for solving it. It helped us find talent that just “got it” — both the ins and out of the product, and the cultural DNA needed to succeed in our line of work.
Sercante would not be what it was without The Spot, truly.
Today’s Version of The Ick
I’m launching into a new chapter. And I’m starting with this blog, business coaching, and angel investing.
When I set up Xyla, that familiar “Ick” started creeping back in.
“Why would anyone want to read this?”
“Do I even have anything to say?”
“There are people a million times more successful than me that could be writing this…. let people listen to them.”
But here I am, leaning into The Ick and shouting into the void that is the internet anyway. I’m hoping someone on quest to build something meaningful will see some of the content on Xyla and get value.
Worst case? I get to process some of the lessons learned over the course of building Sercante and have a creative outlet as I explore what’s next.
(PS – Once I write something, I almost never go back and read it. Past writing belongs to past self. It feels too cringey to read old writing that didn’t age well or that you’ve evolved your thinking on.)