DON’T BE BASIC
On 4/20, I woke up in Motel 6, my cat pacing back-and-forth on the bed and my anxiety level hovering just below panic. No, this wasn't an early start to a 420 weed infused bender, it was my first day of 500 Startups. As I prepped for the day, the words of "encouragement" my uncle gave me the night before echoed in my head, “Are you sure you want to do this? I'm really not sure your business is a good idea. Wouldn't it be easier to marry a rich guy or sell insurance? We’re all waiting for you to have kids.” Yes, I’m 31 and my eggs might be shriveling up. Noted. After blasting a bit of Kanye and snapping a quick selfie to capture the last of my Venice Beach babeness (before this program makes me look like Obama) - I headed to the Mountain View.
WELCOME TO THE VALLEY
I hopped in the Castro Street elevator with a few batch mates whose company is so technical that after 6 weeks of hearing them pitch, I still have no idea what they do, and headed to the top floor of Mountain Views tallest building. On the other side of the ominous red doors decorated with the stickers of startups past, we were greeted by founders from more than 21 countries. It was like the first day of school all over again...and I was pleasantly surprised at how much better looking everyone was than I imagined.
Thankfully, our Batch Manager clumped all the six solo founders at the same table and with a 3:3 ratio of men and women. When one of our tablemates moved desks, a guy who sits across from me asked in all seriousness “Is it because this is the girls table?” Welcome to Silicon Valley!
By the end of the week comments like “You’re much smarter than you look“ “You look much smarter with your glasses on” “So, do you have a boyfriend? ” “Oh YOU’RE the CEO?!” flew at us so fast we created a twitter handle to capture them, like a Junior High time capsule.
IMPOSTER SYNDROME
Now, 50% of the time, I think of myself as a bad-ass. I’ve been traveling alone since I was 6, living on my own since 17 and am a rare breed who doesn’t have parents. I thrive on stress and going-it-alone, but in this moment, I was feeling much more basic than someone who just got into a top accelerator. I was terrified. On one hand it felt rad that I negotiated my way into Lucky Batch 13, on the other it felt desperate for needing to talk my way in. It reminded me of the time I was inspired by Cher from Clueless and negotiated my grades in college (#truestory).
As the day wore on, the reality of my recent business breakup hit me and Imposter Syndrome kicked in, hard. Most companies in the batch had a team, the majority of the were in tech and few had anything to do with people. My product was for the everyday Jane, my company is named after my cat and I am a solo, non-technical woman with ombré blue hair. “What the f#*k are me and Hazel Lane doing here?” Did I really deserve to be here or was I just really good at negotiating?
Get a piece of Silicon Valley. Delivered.
[caption id="attachment_80283" align="alignnone" width="265"]
My going to the Bay cake[/caption]
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