The Hardest Years of My Life — As a Founder and as a Business Coach

The hardest years of my life were not defined by dramatic failures or public setbacks.
They were defined by silence, responsibility, and long stretches of uncertainty.

As a founder, I learned very early that entrepreneurship is less about ideas and more about endurance. The real challenge wasn’t launching something; it was continuing when clarity was missing, when effort didn’t immediately translate into outcomes, and when decisions carried consequences far beyond yourself.

There were moments when confidence had to be rebuilt quietly.
Moments when mistakes became expensive teachers.
Moments when persistence mattered more than intelligence.

What made it harder was that no one really prepares you for the emotional weight of leadership, the loneliness of decision-making, the fatigue of always being “on,” and the pressure to appear composed even when things feel fragile inside.

Later, when I moved into the role of a business coach, I discovered a different kind of difficulty.

Coaching is not about giving answers.
It’s about holding space.

You often see founders repeating patterns they are not yet ready to acknowledge.
You see risks before they materialize.
You sense when momentum is emotional rather than structural.

And yet, you cannot push.
You cannot impose.
You can only guide, ask, wait, and trust the process.

Some founders listen late.
Some learn through consequences.
Some resist clarity because clarity demands change.

As a coach, the hardest moments are not when advice is ignored.
They are when you care enough to stay present without becoming attached to outcomes.

There were years when my growth as a professional outpaced my visibility.
Years when experience accumulated quietly.
Years when I questioned whether the effort was worth it.

Looking back, those were the years that mattered most.

They stripped away ego.
They replaced urgency with patience.
They taught me when to speak and when silence was more powerful.

Today, I don’t measure those years by what I gained externally.
I measure them by who they shaped me into.

If you’re a founder in a difficult phase, or a professional questioning your path, understand this:

Not all hard years are meant to look successful.
Some years are meant to build your internal capacity — to think better, lead better, and endure longer.

Growth rarely announces itself.
It works quietly, deeply, and patiently.

And one day, you realise, those hardest years were not a setback, they were the foundation.

I work with founders and leaders in these in-between years, not to rush outcomes, but to build clarity, judgment, and resilience.

If this resonates, we can have a conversation.