A Person Who Needs a Reason to Work

I can’t work without a reason.

In my twenties, that reason was building a career. It was a time for learning. I worked and studied late into the night, preparing for the future. Because having experience at a major company would help later, I did my best in every task I was given and climbed the ladder quickly. I believed the main event was still ahead and focused on laying the groundwork.

In my thirties, I joined my first startup to learn about business. Leaving behind the polished systems of big corporations, I suddenly had a mountain of things to do. It really was like building something from nothing. But that also meant there was a lot I could do. I took on new challenges and gained a wide range of experience. The lower salary was offset by the feeling that I was growing.

Two years later, I co-founded a company as CTO. This time, I had equity. My rewards would grow alongside the company. The salary wasn’t much—frankly, it was far too low—but I was okay with that.

Unfortunately, we failed to find product-market fit. We shut down the service. The rewards I had hoped for never came. All the effort I thought would eventually pay off felt wasted. I hit a low point. Instead of chasing meaning in my work, I found myself searching for stability.

So I joined a company that paid well. There was no equity, not much left to learn, but the work environment was relaxed. It felt good. After the grind of entrepreneurship, I finally had a chance to rest and recover. I worked with kind teammates, and our days were slow and peaceful. It was comfortable.

But I left after a year. Comfort alone wasn’t reason enough for me to stay.

And now, once again, I dream of starting something. I dream of building something meaningful. I want to spend my days creating real value with my own hands, growing my company, and leaving something meaningful behind. That’s why I dream of starting again. That’s the reason I want to work.