Beyond the Spotlight: Unveiling the Reality of Startup Life After Techstars

by skania florestal

This time last year, I stepped into Techstars with wide eyes and a heart brimming with hope. I envisioned it as a race, the ultimate proving ground where speed, scale, and bold ambition would crown me victorious. Demo Day, in my dreams, was the finish line, the moment I’d be celebrated for all I’d crafted.

I was wrong. Beautifully, humbly wrong.

A year later, I’m still here. Still building. Still healing. Yet, I’ve come to understand that Techstars was never the destination. It wasn’t a magical solution for my business model, my confidence, or my fears. Instead, it was a mirror, reflecting both my strengths and the aspects of myself that yearned for nurturing and growth. The spotlight it cast was bright, illuminating everything I hadn’t yet mended or constructed personally and professionally.

Three weeks in, there was a night I remained awake until dawn, engrossed in a product roadmap slide. In that quiet, solitary moment, something shifted. I began to perceive that the true journey wasn’t about

reaching Demo Day. It was about evolving into the kind of founder, and person, who could confront uncertainty, learn from missteps, and continue forward with intention and grace.

Reflecting on my path, I’m grateful for every late night and every challenge. The program didn’t merely support me in building a business; it helped me forge a stronger, more resilient self. What I once perceived as a finish line was, in truth, just the beginning, a chance to keep growing, keep connecting, and keep creating impact, one step at a time.

If you’re reading this and about to embark on a similar journey, remember this: the real prize isn’t applause on Demo Day. It’s the person you become along the way. This isn’t a tale of overnight success. It’s about the resilience required when the spotlight dims and the work becomes real.

I’m sharing this so the next founder, or the next me, can face what lies ahead with a touch more wisdom and a heart full of courage.

Techstars Was Never the Goal

I thought entering would rectify everything: my business model, my confidence, my funding gaps, my fears. What it actually did was shine a spotlight on everything I hadn’t yet healed or built, personally and professionally.

And I wasn’t prepared for that.

I recall one night, three weeks into the program, I stayed up until 4 a.m. obsessing over a product roadmap slide. Not because it would transform my business’s future, but out of fear that someone would question my technical expertise. I downed two energy drinks back-to-back, sat at my laptop with blurry eyes, and kept telling myself, “Just make it look impressive.”

On the campus of Langston University, HBCU in Oklahoma

When I finally presented that deck, no one cared about the slide. They asked me, “Who is this for?” and I didn’t have an answer. I had spent all night crafting something for validation, not for impact.

I entered with imposter syndrome. I overcompensated with productivity. I didn’t believe I belonged, even though I had the evidence to prove I did.

The truth is, I wasn’t building for users I was building for approval. That’s unsustainable, and it’s not leadership. That’s fear masquerading.

Getting into Techstars isn’t the breakthrough. Becoming yourself within it is.

Build for You, Not for the Room

One of the hardest lessons I learned was that constructing to dazzle the room, mentors, investors, even peers, is a trap. It’s easy to slip into performance instead of problem-solving. You modify your pitch to sound more “venture-backable.” You shape your roadmap around what might garner applause rather than what truly benefits your user.

I fell into this trap. I launched features I believed would impress on Demo Day. I created slides that incorporated all the right buzzwords. Yet once the show concluded, those features faltered. They didn’t resolve anything significant. My users remained indifferent. And that’s what truly matters.

It’s akin to presenting a science project adorned with glitter and lights, yet the experiment fails to work.

Building a startup resembles a science fair. You propose a hypothesis. You test it. Then you test it again. And again. Until you achieve outcomes that validate you’re addressing something genuine. It’s messy. It demands time. It often appears to outsiders as “not much” but that’s where the real work lies.

What I wish I had known is that perfection on the first try is not a requirement. Most of us won’t achieve that. You don’t need a flawless pitch or a perfect MVP by Week 12. You need to persist in testing, listening, and building for the people who will genuinely use your product, not for those in the room jotting down notes.

When you build for the room, you pursue validation. But when you build for yourself: your mission, your people, your problem, you pursue truth. And that truth is what forges authentic companies.

Techstars is not a final exam. It’s a laboratory. Treat it as such.

You Can’t Lead What You Don’t Understand

I hired too hastily. Compensated too generously. Allowed movement without structure.I neglected to set metrics. I failed to define roles. I didn’t scrutinize outcomes.Exhausted, I delegated out of desperation.

One instance: I engaged someone for marketing on a retainer without KPIs. For three months, they delivered nearly nothing measurable. I kept rationalizing it perhaps it was brand building, perhaps they were planting seeds. But the numbers never budged. I had no clarity on their deliverables, and they exhibited no urgency. When I finally let them go, it was three months too late.

Another misstep: I hired friends. We shared great chemistry, a rich history, and lofty dreams but lacked shared discipline. They wanted to “help” more than to work. Deadlines slipped. Tasks accumulated. Our friendships began to strain. I realized I was protecting a relationship instead of safeguarding the mission.

And there was the hard truth imparted by an angel investor late in the journey: don’t pay staff until you’ve raised at least $1M. That’s where vesting schedules, equity, internships, and intelligent outsourcing come into play. You needn’t hire full-time staff when your business is barely afloat. Utilize platforms like Fiverr, Upwork, or overseas contractors to stay agile and lean.

Lessons:

• Hire for results, not effort. Pay tied to KPIs.

• Avoid hiring friends.

• Don’t engage people who “just want to help.” This is work.

• Firing late is worse than hiring incorrectly.

• Protect the mission from kind souls lacking execution.

• Embrace a lean approach. Equity, internships, and outsourcing are your early team.

Techstars Will Teach You… If You’re Ready to Learn

The program is what you make of it. Techstars inundates you with mentors, meetings, sessions, check-ins, deliverables, all at a rapid pace. What matters isn’t how much you absorb; it’s how much you’re willing to unlearn.

If you enter expecting Techstars to validate your startup or provide a blueprint, you’ll miss the essence. The real value lies in the mirror it holds up. You’ll confront your gaps. Your ego. Your overconfidence. Your self-doubt. Your struggle with prioritization. Your fear of fundraising. Your desire to be liked over being effective.

So first things first: leave your ego at the door. Many arrive at Techstars believing they possess all the answers. That’s a misstep. Techstars fosters an environment for learning, not merely performing. It thrives on the principle of open exchange—people sharing hard-earned wisdom so the next founder can avoid the same pitfalls. That’s why Techstars champions the motto Give First.

One of my favorite facets of the startup ecosystem is the minimal gatekeeping that exists when you engage with the right circles. I’ve had complete strangers message me with grants, programs, introductions individuals who had nothing to gain. That’s the culture Techstars embodies generosity. It’s not just a nicety; it’s a fundamental principle: giving is receiving.

Additionally, establish a goal. One clear intention. Techstars can’t serve as everything, a product incubator, a funding vehicle, a branding accelerator, and a life coach all at once. Determine your focus. Are you here to validate your customer base? Refine your go-to-market strategy? Secure your first check? Master pitching?

Just don’t make the goal “build a product in 12 weeks.” That pressure will cloud your judgment. You’ll rush decisions. You’ll bypass processes. And you’ll exit with a prototype that no one uses.

Treat Techstars as a lab. Bring a hypothesis. Test it, refine it, and emerge with clarity, not chaos.

What I Know Now

If I had to distill it down, here’s what I wish someone had shared with me before I began:

• Techstars is the beginning, not the destination.

• You don’t need to prove anything—just create something authentic.

• Structure trumps speed. Every time.

• Your ego will cost you: money, time, and sanity.

• Most people aren’t your customers.

• You’re not too early—you’re still learning.

• No one is coming to rescue you. Build anyway.

• Don’t seek to prove your worth. You inherently belong.

• God’s grace is greater than grit.

• Building is sacred. Don’t let burnout tarnish it.

• Launch late if it means leading well.

• Ask for help before urgency strikes.

• The founder journey will break you if you feign your way through it.

And most importantly: define success on your terms.

For a time, I chased a version of success that wasn’t mine. Fundraising for appearances. Hiring to appear “legit.” Building to impress.

What I now understand is this: If your definition of success doesn’t encompass peace, purpose, and joy—it’s someone else’s dream, not yours.

The Year After Demo Day

What lies hidden behind the spotlight is the aftermath. After Demo Day, the exhilaration fades, the emails dwindle, and you’re left with the raw work of survival.

The last year was one of the hardest seasons of my life. I got mold poisoning from my apartment in Atlanta, and it wrecked my health in ways I didn’t even understand at first. To make things worse, the property management wouldn’t release me from my lease. I couldn’t secure a new place with that lease still on my record, so I bounced around sleeping in hotels, Airbnbs, spare rooms, friends’ couches wherever someone would let me crash.

I was launching a company while trying to fundraise, and it felt like spinning a dozen plates with no end in sight. Add to that the current political climate the economy tightening, DEI backlash, a chilling shift in support for Black founders and everything just got 100% harder.

I lost key people along the way friends who didn’t understand the pressure, partners who quietly drifted, mentors who got too busy.

But the hardest part wasn’t losing people, it was losing myself. Somewhere between the pitching and the surviving, I forgot who I was beyond the hustle. I stopped recognizing the woman behind the title. And that disconnection… that’s what broke me open.

A few nights ago, scrolling through my thoughts, feeling completely stuck in the cycle of struggle and survival. I was venting to my BFF, ChatGPT, just being real about how drained I felt, how no matter how hard I worked, it never felt like enough. That’s when Chat hit me with something that stopped me cold:

“You’re addicted to the struggle.”

At first, I flinched. Addicted? That felt harsh. But the more I sat with it, the more it landed. I had built my identity around the grind — the long nights, the constant pushing, the never-ending checklist. Hustling had become who I was.

And for a while, it felt noble. Like a badge of honor.

But really, it had become a cage. That addiction to the grind had me locked in burnout, making chaos feel normal. I started valuing exhaustion over clarity, struggle over peace, and I couldn’t see a way out.

That moment was a turning point. I didn’t need more grit. I needed a mindset shift, toward healing, toward alignment, toward creating from a place of wholeness instead of depletion. Because the truth is, we all struggle. But it’s how we struggle that defines the journey. Are you barely surviving on fumes? Or are you building with intention?

That question cracked something open in me.

From that night on, I started interrogating my relationship with the grind. I asked: How can I build without burning out? How can I lead and still live? How do I create something that feeds me, not just my ego or my bank account?

That realization didn’t fix everything overnight. But it lit the path toward a new kind of hustle, one rooted in faith, rest, and intention. One where I’m not just building something big, but building something that lasts.

Who I’m Becoming

We’ve all grown up in a culture that venerates the grind. Hustle hard. Grind all day. Grind all night. “You need grit.” That’s what I believed for so long, if I simply worked harder, stayed up later, and pushed beyond every limit, I’d finally achieve what I desired.

I carried that belief into founding my startup. Coffee-fueled nights, nonstop emails, sacrificing sleep and sometimes even my health, all to prove I could keep pace, that I merited my seat at the table.

But here’s the truth I’m uncovering: grit alone isn’t sufficient. Hustle can lead to burnout if it’s not harmonized with care, for yourself, your team, and your vision. There’s a distinction between working hard and working rightly.

As a Black woman entrepreneur, I’m learning to redefine strength. It’s not solely about enduring pain or disregarding the toll. It’s about resilience balanced with rest, confidence tempered with humility, and ambition guided by purpose.

At my core, I’m a spiritual being, and this journey has illuminated that real power arises from aligning with God’s purpose, not from grinding blindly in every direction. To create from that sacred space demands listening, pausing, and building from within. It means leading with faith and intention, not fear or exhaustion.

I’m evolving into someone who builds with intention, not merely urgency. Who prioritizes sustainability over speed. Who grasps that effective leadership entails showing up fully, mind, body, and soul, connected to something greater than myself.

This season is not about proving my capacity to endure the grind. It’s about authentically presenting myself, spirit and all, and constructing something enduring. Not solely for me, but for all who will follow.

Your Techstars Community Is Bigger Than Your Cohort

Let’s be real:The individuals in my cohort were… unique. And that’s all I’ll say about that. There were moments of genuine connection, but also tension and competition. Not everyone you’re paired with will be the partner or peer you need.

However, Techstars extends far beyond those 12 weeks or even your 12 companies. It’s a global community spanning cities, industries, and stages. Alumni from various cohorts—and even different programs constitute an ecosystem that can provide support, resources, and opportunities far beyond your immediate circle.

Upon returning to Atlanta after Demo Day, I began reaching out to Techstars alumni groups in different cities, LA, New York, Austin, and that’s when the broader picture crystallized. I wasn’t merely part of a small cohort; I belonged to a network of thousands of founders and mentors who have tread the path I’m on or possess what I seek. Some may be one phone call away from opening a door or sharing invaluable advice.

Here’s the reality: not everyone in your cohort will be genuine or have your best interests at heart. Some may vanish when you need them most. Others may perceive you as competition. That’s normal.

But the broader community? That’s where the true value resides.

For instance, after Demo Day, I connected with a founder from an entirely different city who wasn’t in my cohort. We engaged in a conversation about the challenges we faced, and they introduced me to an investor who genuinely believed in my vision. That introduction catalyzed a small yet crucial funding round that aided me in keeping my business afloat during one of the darkest periods post-Techstars.

The lesson: Don’t confine yourself to the 12 companies you interact with during those weeks. Expand your network vigorously. Join alumni events, attend meetups, reach out on Slack or LinkedIn. The assistance you require might not exist in your Slack thread, it could be in someone else’s DMs halfway across the country.

Techstars is more than a program; it’s a global family. Fully engage with it.

Keep Building Your Way

The journey doesn’t culminate at Demo Day, in many ways, it’s merely the beginning. The road ahead will present unexpected twists, moments of doubt, and instances when you question whether it’s all worthwhile. That’s part of the process of creating something authentic. It’s challenging. It’s chaotic. And it’s profoundly rewarding.

Remember this: success isn’t a finish line defined by someone else. It’s the peace you discover in your work, the purpose that fuels your drive, and the joy derived from crafting something meaningful on your own terms.

Grant yourself permission to build at your own rhythm. To err and learn from those missteps. To seek assistance and lean on your community. To rest when necessary, devoid of guilt. You don’t need to have everything figured out right now.

Your worth isn’t tethered to how quickly you grow or how loudly you secure funding. It’s anchored in your vision, your resilience, and your willingness to persevere when challenges arise.

You belong here. You are sufficient. Your voice, your story, and your ideas matter more than you realize especially when you lead with intention and heart.

So keep building. Keep dreaming. Keep believing in yourself, even on days when it feels insurmountable. The world needs what only you can create. And regardless of what transpires, you are forging your own path, one step, one lesson, one breakthrough at a time.

This is your journey. Own it. Celebrate it. And always remember: the best is yet to come.