2025

I didn’t get a proper chance to say goodbye to 2025 when it ended. It’s already January, and life kept moving, but I wanted to leave something behind for myself before I fully turned the page.

Building something is hard. Building something with a very small team, often just me, and occasionally a few freelancers, is harder. It’s not glamorous. It’s not linear. Most days don’t look like progress from the outside. But I’ve learned that I genuinely love the challenge of figuring things out, especially when there’s no obvious playbook.

I know Furrend is far from the usual definition of “success.” I also know I chose one of the hardest paths available. I’m sure some people look at it and wonder why I don’t just stop, or why I don’t do something easier, safer, or more straightforward. But I understand the why behind what I’m doing, even when it doesn’t make sense to anyone else.

After spending years helping other people build startups and businesses, especially after my MBA, I realized I didn’t want to spend my life doing that. I wanted to build something of my own. Something with meaning. Something lasting. Something I actually believe in. And I’m willing to bet on myself to do it. That bet comes with risk. It comes with sacrifice. The cost is real. But so is the reward, even if that reward isn’t obvious yet.

In 2025, I started making content: creator interviews, animal stories, and the animal archive. To my surprise, I really loved it. I loved the research. I loved the design. I loved the quiet satisfaction of telling a story well, and the small signals that someone out there was paying attention, the likes, the comments, the messages.

I also started vibe coding. I built our blog page, creator page, and an interactive Pixel Summer ’25 event where people could upload their pets and turn them into virtual vacation photos. It felt like laying bricks, one by one. I’m glad I can do these things on my own.

I used to think time was fully on my side. Now I think it’s yes and no. I wish I had more of it. I don’t think I took a real day off this year. And when I told myself I needed a break, I usually opened Figma and started designing something for the blog instead. Oddly enough, that relaxed me.

There’s a tradeoff here that I’ve come to accept. If you’re optimizing your life for balance, you probably won’t be as successful as someone optimizing for success. There’s no free lunch. In 2025, I stopped trying to explain this to people. Some will never understand it, and that’s okay. Everyone’s life is different. I just want to spend my time with people who share the same mindset.

I look for competitive advantages where I can find them, on weekends, holidays, and quiet hours. I’m not the smartest or most connected person in the world. But I am willing to sacrifice my time in ways most people aren’t.

This year taught me that it’s not really about how many people support you. It’s about how much you believe in yourself when support is quiet or inconsistent.

I’m grateful for the people who helped me. And I’m also grateful for the people who said no. Both mattered more than they probably know.

That’s my goodbye to 2025. Not a victory lap. Not a failure story. Just a record of showing up, again and again.

And despite everything, I’m proud of what I’ve built so far.