The Village

I don’t believe there is a good time to get fired but the nationwide consensus is that the holiday season (in this case being November 1st-December 31st) is the worst time. I can see why of course. The holidays are associated with extraordinary kindness, reaping rewards from a year of hard work, and overall “new beginnings” with people contemplating whether their current path is the right one and, if not, what they are going to do about it in the months to come. Still, whether it’s July 4th or November 10th, to me, there is never a good time.

No matter the season of the year, you’re forced to evaluate what I label the “reality inducers” - those questions that involve more than five minutes of thought on a Sunday evening. The ones that you devote more contemplation to when the time is right and the stakes are low to give yourself some direction in a world of uncontrollables. Some of these “reality inducers” are questions such as “What do I want to do with my life”, “Am I living in the right place”, “What has my past taught me”, “What are my non-negotiables in a career moving forward.” Each person has their own inducers that hit home on various levels. I notice people are better at thinking about these questions when there are no decisions to make. I can’t say I fell into that bucket, though I wish I was more proactive. That being said, I was recently faced with a plethora of reality-inducers and the one that stuck out the most was “Who is part of your village?”

Whether this thought came from a place of need or panic or was simply out of human curiosity, it got me thinking. Can we handle moments of extreme uncertainty, inevitable low points, or any other causes of anxiety, on our own? I know there is an alternate argument where someone answers “yes” to this question, resilience is a forever chase-able trait, but I’m wondering whether we, as humans, should. There are so many times in life where chaos ensues and you are told to “protect yourself” or “control the narrative.” To me, it’s less about “controlling the narrative” and more about having a say in who is in the narrative. The ones we surround ourselves with rather than those we are circumstantially around.

I thought about this from the lens of a solo founder. Solo founders are never truly alone forever. In the beginning, they hire contractors and may have some part-time hires but eventually they expand their team as their company starts to scale. A solo founder is forced to be picky with who they cultivate relationships with. They are constantly reminded that time is finite and any cultivation could present itself as an opportunity cost to growing their business. In this lens of time scarcity, is it important to have a large village? If not, are relationships intended to be a strategic endeavor? By this I mean, are we allotted a certain number of “close” relationships and the rest of the slots are to be vertically filled? A friend for social engagements, a friend for business connections, a friend who knows every top chef in Manhattan. I bet some people think this way and may even find it efficient.

Countering this view of relationships, and through my own experiences contributing to America’s unemployment rate, I’ve been shown a theme time and time again: the purely human act of relationship building with no means to an end always shows up when you need it. These people in your village are the ones that make their unique presence known when they feel called to do so. This simultaneous thought and truth, as it pertains to my life, has shown me that we should not face these trials alone, and that the most important thing we can devote time to is the connection with someone we have let into our lives and deemed worthy of staying for the long haul.

It’s the simple act of grabbing coffee and being reminded it’s okay to be really down, that unemployment benefits open every Sunday (and that it's best not to accidentally forget a week); being reminded that sometimes you don’t fail but are instead failed by others; being told you can now have a martini on a Tuesday; receiving “WELFARE CHECK” texts or steady “How are you?” check-ins; having people who call because a text just isn’t enough; talking to a best friend’s dad because he’s been there before; being connected to someone’s brother’s best friend’s uncle who might have a slight connection to your intended career; handing over the number of a mom’s former colleague when you’re in a pinch, grabbing tea with no time set to leave; receiving newsletter suggestions and many introductions; going on walks with good company and no end in sight; being mentored in real-time; connecting with people who were you not too long ago; being introduced to service providers who look at you like their client; endless voice memos that exude wisdom and refrain from judgement; more calls when people should be wrapping up the year, more blurbs sent when people are logging off for the holidays; hours of talking where advice is offered freely alongside everything in-between, and so so much more. Nothing explicitly asked. Everything intentionally offered.

These acts are signs of the village working in its purest form. These are relationships I intend to preserve, nourish, and grow as I enter a new stage of venture, and I hope to do the same with founders I meet. I’d love to see their villages grow in a way that makes their jobs even the slightest bit easier, because building a company will never be “easy.” Rumor has it this is exactly what the platform side of venture is intended to do.

So, a sincere thank you to the village I’m building. I hope the current residents know who they are and a reminder that it’s less about “controlling the narrative” and more about contributing to who gets a place within the narrative you find yourself a part of.

To more thoughts in 2026!