Succeeding in the startup world reminds me of the funfair analogy:
The rich kid will have a go at throwing the dart at the balloon, and miss. But, because they're a rich kid, they just take out their wallet (or parents' wallet), get more stubs, and try again (and again) until they hit the balloon.
The middle class kid will have a go at throwing the dart at the balloon, and also miss. Then they will walk away, saying that was fun, and go hang out with their mates. But maybe the 10th or the 100th middle class kid will hit the balloon.
And the working class kids? They work at the funfair. They never get to throw darts.
Here's the kicker: those kids who hit the balloons? One or two of them might go off and start a blog/podcast, or write a book titled
- Zero To Plushy
- The Dart Thing About Dart Things: Plushy Hunting When There Are No Easy Answers
- Dart Throwers at Work: Stories of Plushy Hunters' Early Days
- You Are a Badass at Hunting Plushies: Master the Mindset of Throwing Darts
- The Lean Plushy Hunter
- &c
Hell, if it's the middle class kid writing the book, they might even throw a couple of anecdotes in there about how they didn't have an easy start (compared to the rich kid), and it might even be true for them.
That book is the catnip that folks like you and me base our life decisions on.
I had a go at 3 startups, only one of them quasi-full-time, as I self-funded with freelancing. (I spent years building a "turn PDFs into data" product, had a few paying customers, and then one day got made totally redundant by Google Vision.)
Needless to say, I got completely burned out on startup number 3.
I shuttered the business just as Covid hit. I spend more time with the family (wife, two daughters, 9 and 6), and we moved to the countryside to be closer to ageing parents and siblings with kids.
It's healing time, baby
I wish you all the best