The Journey Behind My Startup

As a child, I was always fascinated with technology. I would spend hours tinkering with gadgets, trying to understand how things worked. But growing up, I was in an environment that didn't quite share my passion. No one in my family, or even in my extended circle, understood tech the way I did. I was often ridiculed for my dreams. People laughed at me, told me that tech was not for people like us. "You’ll never make it," they said. "It’s too hard, it’s too different."

Despite all the negativity, I couldn't let go of the idea. I didn’t have anyone around me who understood or supported me. I felt like I was alone in a world that didn’t want me to succeed. But I didn’t care. I kept moving forward, even when it felt like the whole world was pushing against me.

There were nights when I couldn’t sleep, not because I didn’t want to, but because the weight of everything was too much to bear. I was tired, physically drained, but still, I would work for hours, coding, designing, and trying to make my dream come true. It was a painful process. I was losing sleep, losing weight, and sometimes even losing hope. But the thought of quitting never crossed my mind, no matter how hard it got.

There were days when I felt completely broken. My relatives didn’t understand why I was constantly glued to my computer, my friends mocked me for wasting time on something “impossible.” “Why don’t you just get a job?” they asked. But the idea of working for someone else, living a life without pursuing my passion—it felt like a fate worse than failure.

Every setback hurt more than the last, and every success felt too small compared to the pain I was going through. I was working so hard but receiving no recognition, no validation from anyone. Still, I kept pushing. The fear of never getting there, of being trapped in a life of mediocrity, terrified me more than the pain of the present.

There came a time when I hit rock bottom. I was exhausted, emotionally drained, and physically unwell. I would wake up and feel the heaviness of my dreams weighing on me. Some days, I wanted to cry, not because I was giving up, but because I was so tired of fighting alone. There were moments where I questioned everything—was this really worth it? I felt like I was screaming into an empty void, no one listening, no one caring.

But despite all of that, something kept me going. Deep inside, I knew that I had to give it my all. I couldn’t let those nights of pain and sleeplessness be in vain. I refused to let my struggles define me. So I kept working. I worked through the tears, through the exhaustion, through the isolation. I didn’t care about the mockery anymore. I was no longer doing this for the approval of others. I was doing it for me.

And then, finally, the hard work began to pay off. Slowly, people started noticing. It wasn’t the validation I had been waiting for from others, but it was the first signs that I was on the right track. One breakthrough, one small win, turned the tide. From there, everything began to snowball. I started gaining clients, building a team, and turning my startup into something real.

Today, my startup is no longer a dream. It’s a living, breathing testament to the years of pain, sleepless nights, and tears. It’s not perfect, and I still have a long way to go, but I made it through the darkness. I’ve learned to appreciate every small success, because I know the price it took to get here.

More than anything, I’ve come to realize that pain is not a sign to quit—it’s the push we need to keep going. I’ve learned that the hardest moments are often the most transformative. And the struggles, the failures, and the heartbreaks—they were all part of the process. Today, I stand proud of my journey, even if it was one that no one else truly understood at the time.

My startup is now more than just a company. It’s a symbol of perseverance, a reminder that no matter how many people doubt you, no matter how many sleepless nights you endure, if you believe in your dream and you keep going, one day you’ll look back and realize that all the pain was worth it.