Just tip it to the side, and cello, you got a bass. That’s exactly how simple things are if you don’t complicate them. Thanks, Mr. Schneebly.
Last year I thought life had been crazy and 2025 would be a year when I build a garden, water its plants in my own sweet time, and read a book by the river. Then I woke up one morning and chose chaos instead.
The universe heard “garden” and I said “make it a startup.” It heard “own sweet time” and I said “let’s go 80-hour weeks.” A founder friend once described the experience as “Overall great, except that every day feels like a kick in the nuts.” I now understand this wasn’t a metaphor, it was a weather forecast.
And somehow, I assure you, it’s nothing short of magical (not the daily kick, the other things).
This year, I broke through my safety net, quit my job, sold my car, moved to NYC, started a company, fundraised, built a team of people I love working with, had a heartbreak, pitched in front of hundreds, traveled to sell our product, set up booths at trade shows, learned bachata, and found myself all over again.
Begin somewhere
I never really stopped working on the idea since I first stumbled upon it during my Master’s. After endless conversations with myself, I decided to take the leap. One freezing February night in Pullman, I set a deadline. No backup plan, no safety net – just a one-way ticket to NYC. I was all in.
For the first few days, I worked out of a cafe with nothing but blurry foresight and expensive coffee. Then we got accepted into an accelerator. Suddenly, I was surrounded by relentlessly talented people, all working on things they believed in with that healthy bit of delusion that makes startups possible. When decision day came, we had every reason going against us: unclear visa status? Check. No prior startup experience? Check. Zero sales background? Triple check.
They called us a day later. We were in.
The road to my horizon
I had newfound energy – restless, electric, unstoppable. I was interviewing every potential customer, iterating obsessively, making the dream real. Everything was aligning: our MVP was nearing completion, we’d hired an engineer, my parents would finally visit and meet my girlfriend, my co-founder would move to the States and we’d end the time-zone torture. I thought I had it all.
Then, midway through the year, everything came crashing down.
My co-founder’s visa got rejected. My parents cancelled their trip due to a medical mishap. My girlfriend and I got into arguments that escalated until we parted ways for good. We launched the MVP, and the response was a fraction of what our waitlist promised. I was disoriented, drowning, bottling everything up while trying to hold the startup, my family, and my sanity together all at once.
The bridge over troubled water
Initially, I distracted myself with long runs, intense workouts, and signing up for endless classes- until I slowly realized what truly healed me. It wasn’t the exercise or the busy schedule. It was the people around me. The ones who stuck through every conversation. The ones who introduced me to newer perspectives.
At one event, buried in a sea of startup platitudes, I found one piece of advice from a fellow founder that actually worked: “Just make progress. That one draft in your mailbox? Send it. That little task on your to-do list? Tick it off. Step by step, you’ll see how far you’ve come.”
That pulled me out. My co-founder and I made a firm decision: we’re in this together, even if remotely. The baby steps added up – we went back, rewatched our past user interviews, and built a new product that actually solved some of their problems. I processed the breakup while showing up to the office with energy, keeping the team motivated. Looking back, drowning in work among some of the most talented people I’ve ever met was a blessing in disguise.
What I Learned About Relationships
A healthy relationship isn’t fragile – hard conversations bring you closer, not further apart. Distance is never the deal-breaker; it’s the real test of whether something was real to begin with. I’ve been away from home for eight years now, yet I’m closer to my parents than ever. My co-founder and I work remotely all year, yet we understand each other perfectly.
No one is perfect, and you can almost never know a person completely. What you can do is choose your partner over everything else, every single time.
Quick Detour: My Spotify Wrapped (But Better)
I really enjoyed Spotify’s ‘Wrapped’ feature, so here are my greatest musical finds this year:
- Make it with You (Bread) – A beautiful song about love born from abundance, not scarcity.
- Sason Ki Mala (cover by Leo Twins) – A Pakistani duo covered this legendary piece on acoustic instruments, and it’s pure magic.
- Vienna (Billy Joel) – A bit late to the party, but Billy Joel was a pleasant discovery.
Finding Product-Market Fit (and Myself)
By Q3, our product started gaining traction, and I had one job: get it out to the market. This became one of my favorite parts of the journey possibly because it involved leaving my apartment and remembering what sunlight felt like. I traveled across the country to major electronics conferences, set up booths, demoed what we built, and watched people actually get it. Not the polite “that’s nice, good luck” nod, but the real “wait, how does this work?” kind of interest. We saw early signs of product-market fit – the kind that gives you direction, not just hope and a caffeine addiction.
I learned how companies find their footing and how founders stay sane during the chaos (spoiler: they don’t). For the first time in months, I was at peace, better than ever before.
That feeling of having found PMF was short-lived. It turns out “product-market fit” and “product-market flirt” are easily confused but we were equipped with the lessons to learn from our mistakes and iterate better.
A Twisted Sense of Timing
When I let pride get to my head, I was thrown into a situation where I was helpless. When I felt weak, I ended up in a place where being strong was the only option. The ones who were meant to stay stood their ground. The ones who weren’t quietly left.
It all worked out perfectly. If I could go back, I’d tell the then-Sid to keep calm and let life do its thing.
Gratitude
Being able to reflect is a privilege. I’m grateful for what I have – sight, safety, education, and people who push me forward while holding me up.
Thanks for stopping by a shiny new reflection, back to work now. See you in 2026!
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