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We live in strange times. In an age of unprecedented technological progress, our societies and economies are being decimated by a microscopic, invisible force. For all of our advances, we are still vulnerable to the smallest of organisms, the minuscule increments of infectious disease evolution.
The age of coronavirus has insulated us from our communities, and it’s left me plenty of time to reflect on the past. When the world around me is quiet, my mind fills its own space with noise. Fueled by anxiety, I think about the good, the bad, and past mistakes in particular.
In January of 2018, I founded a social dining startup called Homecooked with my friend, Kevin Zhen, someone who had been like a little brother when we lived in the same dorm in high school. Trying to build something from nothing. Going from 0 to 1. I think about the time we won $50,000, the time when we ran our first meal.
But most of all, I think about our arguments and conflicts. The ones that rose from two foolish youths who lacked the emotional maturity to navigate stressful situations. We tried to build an impactful business without getting our own houses in order. Like my mental health, I had thought that I could work work work and leave that problem to future Hojung.
Two years later, after multiple suicidal depressive episodes and a manic blackout that left a 10-day gap in my memory, I know how wrong I was. Everything starts from a healthy mind, a healthy body. I took on too much, too fast, too soon.
It’s why my arguments with Kevin led us to go our own separate ways. It’s why I fired Gabe, even though our issues stemmed from my own incompetence and poor management. And finally, it’s why Eric ultimately left. Our business, like my bipolar disorder, would always be in turmoil until I figured my own mental state out.
Kevin had a phrase he liked to tell our mentors. “We’re not ready for big time moves yet,” he’d say with a humble smile. “It would be like filling our little rowboat with rocket fuel, and we’d sink into the ocean instead of moving faster.”
Well, sink we did. Homecooked died with a whimper, not a bang. And two years later, we went back from 1 to 0.
I failed. It was my job to provide us with financial security. My job to make my team…
