Tonight I made pizza. Not the kind you knead, rise, and lovingly stretch with your hands. The quick one. The one where the dough comes ready, and all you have to do is throw on some sauce, cheese, and whatever you find in the fridge.Five minutes later the kitchen smells like love anyway.And yet that small voice appears, asking “Am I a bad mom for not cooking from scratch?” “Should I have made something healthier?”We live in a world where parenting feels like a competition. Homemade meals, sugar-free snacks, perfectly packed lunchboxes. But the truth is, love doesn’t need to be organic or gluten-free to count.Sometimes being a good mom means knowing when to let go. When to say this is enough. When to order takeout, skip the homemade sauce, or simply sit down and eat with your kids without rushing somewhere else.Because our kids don’t remember how long we spent cooking. They remember the laughter, the stories, the smell of melted cheese, and the feeling of being seen.So no, you’re not a bad mom. You’re a real one. And that’s better than perfect. With grit and gratitude, The Gritter

Am I a Bad Mom?

It’s not because I have all the answers. It’s because of moments like yesterday. I met a woman who reminded me what this work is really about. Months ago, she joined one of my mentoring sessions for early-stage startups. During her pitch, I told her something simple but honest — a pitch alone isn’t enough. You need to build. You need to show it. Create a prototype.I didn’t know if she would take it seriously. But four weeks later, she reached out and asked to meet again.When we sat down, she opened her laptop and showed me what she had built, almost a full version of her product, coded from scratch, without any fancy tools like Windsurf. I was speechless. Grateful. Proud. Inspired.She’s a mother of four. She has a full-time leadership role. She wakes up at 5 a.m., prepares breakfast and dinner, runs a few kilometers, gets her kids ready for school, goes to work, comes home, and codes her idea at night.That’s why I love mentoring. Because every now and then, you meet someone who doesn’t just listen, they act. They take advice, shape it, make it theirs, and move forward, no excuses, just quiet consistency.Mentoring for me is not about teaching. It’s about witnessing someone’s spark and helping protect it from doubt until it’s strong enough to burn on its own.It’s about those quiet moments when you realize that a small conversation, a bit of encouragement, or one honest sentence can change someone’s direction.And that’s the beauty of it. You never really know the ripple your words will create. 🌱 With grit and gratitude, The Gritter

Why I love mentoring

I’ve always been gritty in many parts of my life. Especially in business. In building, leading, creating, surviving. I was the one who stayed strong when things got hard, who kept pushing when others stopped.But when it came to training, that grit wasn’t always there. I had good periods and then I would stop. There was always a reason. Too much work. Too tired. Too many things happening at once. And while all of that was true, deep down I knew I wasn’t being fully honest with myself.In August this year I decided to change that. I made a commitment to be as disciplined with my body as I am with my business. To stop treating training like something extra and start seeing it as something essential.Because when you take care of yourself, you can carry more for others. You think clearer, you lead better, you love deeper.For the past two months I’ve been working with a private trainer. I follow a program, I track everything in an app, I check in every day. I weigh myself, I measure, I take progress photos. It’s not always easy, but it’s honest work.And after two months, I’ve lost ten centimeters around my waist. But what matters even more is that I’ve gained something else, a quiet sense of pride. The kind that comes when you know you’re finally doing what you said you would.So this is my goal for this year and the next one. To become truly gritty in this area too. Because grit isn’t just for business or success. It’s for life. It’s how we show up for ourselves first, so we can give more to others later. With grit and gratitude, The Gritter

Gym Grit: The Discipline I Owed Myself

Getting advice is easy. Acting on it, that’s where most people stop.We love to collect mentors, join programs, listen to podcasts, read books. But advice only has value when it becomes action.It’s not about saying “I have great mentors.” It’s about showing it through changed behavior, improved decisions, and visible progress.Every time an advisor tells you something uncomfortable, that’s a mirror. You can either defend yourself or look closer. The bravest founders don’t collect advice. They apply it fast, test it, and come back with results.That’s how growth compounds. Not from more input, but from quicker implementation.Because the real mentorship happens after the conversation, when you face reality, adjust your behavior, and do the work.So next time someone you respect gives you advice, don’t just write it down. Apply it. Show them you listened. That’s how you turn mentors into allies and advice into power. With grit and gratitude, The Gritter

Act on Advice

Today, everyone is posting. Founders, students, professionals, all trying to grab attention. But here’s the catch: If there’s no real work behind your words, your content is weightless. People don’t trust posts. They trust proof.They trust the founder who shipped a product, the team who solved a hard problem, the person who lived through failure and came back stronger.That’s why some voices cut through the noise. Because they’re not just talking ,they’ve done it. Ask yourself:What am I building that gives weight to my words?What lessons am I earning that I can share?Where’s my proof of work? When you build first, your content stops being performance. It becomes evidence. Evidence of grit. Of progress. Of something real. So don’t just post. Build. And then let your content carry the weight of the work. With grit and gratitude, The Gritter

Don’t just post content; build something real first

Today I spent three hours in a mentoring session. Thirteen founders. Thirteen stories. Thirteen dreams.Mentoring is Not About AnswersWhat struck me is that mentoring isn’t about handing out solutions. It’s about asking the right questions.It’s about sharing a suggestion, offering a comment, or connecting someone to a person who can help.And most importantly, it’s about doing all of that with no expectation in return. Just the intention to help.The Energy of Giving Without Expecting That’s where the real power is.Even after three hours online, I didn’t feel drained. I felt inspired. Because I got to witness people building something bigger than themselves, trying to meet real needs, chasing their vision, and daring to dream.Helping someone else move forward might be one of the purest forms of progress. With grit and gratitude, The Gritter

Why Mentoring 13 Founders Inspired Me More Than It Drained Me

Tonight, I was reading bedtime stories to my boys. Tomorrow, they step into new beginnings, one into 4th grade, the other into 1st. As I looked at them tucked in, ready to drift off, my eyes filled with tears.How did we get here so fast?This is the silent battle so many of us mothers, fathers, founders, dreamers, carry in our hearts. Time feels like it slips through our fingers. Our children grow taller, wiser, more themselves every single day, while we wrestle with the guilt of not being “there enough.”But here’s the truth: we were there. In the way we knew how. With what we had. With who we were at the time.And maybe that’s exactly how it was supposed to be.As parents and entrepreneurs, our lives often feel like a constant negotiation with time. We stretch it, borrow from it, try to control it. And still, it runs. Yet if we pause for just a moment, we see what our children need most is not a perfectly orchestrated timeline, but us, being present in the moments that matter.The story, the hug, the laughter, the messy dinner, the whispered “goodnight.” Those are the moments that write themselves into their memory.So tonight, as my heart softened watching my children sleep, I reminded myself of this: We don’t need to ask “what if I had done it differently?” It unfolded exactly the way it was meant to.Time will keep moving. Our kids will keep growing. But what matters most is not how much time we had—it’s how much love we poured into the time we got.And that, we always have control over. With grit and gratitude, The Gritter

Parenthood and Entrepreneurship: Why Time with Our Kids Is Exactly as It Should Be

Somewhere between back-to-back calls, hiring plans, investor decks, and solving “urgent but not important” things, I forgot. I forgot that I’m not just a founder.I’m a human being.And humans need outlets. This weekend, I painted.Not for an event. Not for content.Not even for the sake of getting better at it.I painted just to breathe.I spent the afternoon with my sister, surrounded by kind people and colors I didn’t overthink. There was no pressure to produce. Just to be. To laugh. To play. To let go. And in the middle of all that… I felt something crack open. A softness. A stillness. A remembering.This is not a post about art.It’s a post about reclaiming parts of yourself that your calendar doesn’t budget for.<h2 id="%E2%9A%99%EF%B8%8F-founders-are-machines-until-we%E2%80%99re-not">⚙️ Founders Are Machines. Until We’re Not</h2>We optimize. We plan. We automate. We scale.And sometimes, we forget that healing doesn’t happen in sprint cycles.Sometimes, we need non-performative time.Moments that don’t serve an objective.I didn’t need ROI from this day.I just needed to feel like myself again.<h2 id="%F0%9F%92%A1-a-note-to-you-and-to-myself">💡 A Note to You (and to Myself)</h2>If you’re reading this and thinking, “I don’t have time for this,”That’s exactly when you need it.Call a friend. Paint something messy. Cook something slow.Sit still.You’re allowed to pause.You’re allowed to protect your joy.And no, it doesn’t mean you’re losing your edge. It means you’re keeping your soul. With grit and gratitude, The Gritter

Why Every Founder Needs a Creative Outlet

Today at a Demo Day event, I had a fireside chat in front of a group of young founders, most of them first-time founders.Among other things, I touched on the importance of creating content and sharing your story. And while I was speaking to them, I was also thinking about myself. Because for a long time, that was my biggest block.I didn’t want to share. Not because I didn’t have something to say. But because I didn’t want to be exposed. I didn’t want to be judged. I wanted it to be perfect.And when you want it to be perfect, you never actually start. You wait. You overthink. You rewrite. You talk yourself out of it. You tell yourself it's not the right moment. Not the right version. Not ready yet.There was a quiet fear underneath all that. Fear of shame. Fear of being misunderstood. Of someone thinking less of me. Of failing in public.And I know I’m not the only one. Women feel this deeply. But not just women. Anyone who’s been raised to play it safe, to not take up space, to stay quiet unless they’re sure.What I’ve learned slowly, through doing, is that waiting for perfect is just another way of hiding.You don’t need a content strategy. You don’t need a perfect grid. You just need to say something real. That’s what people feel. That’s what creates connection. That’s what makes others trust you.Today, in that room full of early-stage founders, I could see how even one honest story can make a difference. You could feel the shift, that moment when someone realizes they’re not alone in the fear or the mess or the doubt.If what you’ve lived through can help someone move forward, save them time, or just make them feel seen, share it.Even if it’s not polished. Even if it’s still raw.Imperfect and true is always better than perfect and silent. With grit and gratitude, The Gritter

Share What You Know

Today was a first.Not my first time training. Not my first time with a personal trainer. But my first time bringing my son to the gym with me. And something about that changed everything.Tomorrow, he turns 10. Double digits. And today, as a little early celebration, he came along to see what “Mom’s workouts” are really all about.He was buzzing. Eyes wide, curious, bouncing around the space like it was a jungle gym. He sat on the slide between exercises, pretending to be my coach. At one point, I literally had to pause my set so I could slide him down like we were in the park.It was pure joy. Chaos and connection. A reminder that discipline and play are not opposites, they’re teammates.And while I was pushing through reps on the first day of my cycle (which, let’s be honest, is not the easiest time to train), that moment made everything feel lighter.But what really stayed with me, what genuinely moved me, was something small he said:<blockquote>“Mom… I don’t want to lie to the people in the gym and say I’m 11. I’m turning 10 tomorrow. I can’t lie.”</blockquote>That. That right there is the kind of thing that makes you stop and breathe in the moment. Because sure, it’s a small thing. A tiny white lie avoided. But it’s also a glimpse into who he’s becoming someone honest, thoughtful, and brave enough to say, “This is who I really am.” And that’s what this blog is really about Grit, yes, but also growth. Showing up when it's hard. Leading by example. Creating moments that feel small but shape everything.It reminded me of the kind of strength that doesn’t come from lifting weights.And it made me proud, not just of him, but of the values we’re building together.In three days, I’ll turn 36. And today this funny, sweaty, joyful, slightly chaotic day in the gym is exactly how I want to step into it.Because they are the big things. With grit and gratitude, The Gritter

A Gym Session I’ll Never Forget

The First Step at 4 AM I couldn’t sleep. The kids were tucked in. The house was clean. The dishwasher hummed softly in the background. But my mind? My mind was loud.I did what we all do when the night feels too long, I reached for my phone. One scroll turned into another, diving from one piece of content to the next. Consuming, consuming, consuming. And then it hit me: This isn’t it. Scrolling isn’t creating. Watching isn’t sharing. Consuming isn’t living. I realized I didn’t want to scroll my way through another sleepless night. I wanted to create something that mattered. I wanted to share. A Word Appeared I sat up. Grabbed a pen. Let the thoughts tumble out. They were messy at first, a flood of half-formed ideas, fragments of stories, and scattered questions.But then, clarity struck. A single word surfaced: grit. Grit is what gets us through. It’s what pushes us forward when everything feels uncertain, when the path is unclear, when we don’t feel ready but show up anyway. It’s not about polish or perfection. It’s about resilience, persistence, and finding a way.And so, TheGritLog was born. What It’s For This isn’t a manifesto. It’s not a polished vision or a 10-year plan. It’s a log—a collection of thoughts, lessons, and stories. It’s raw, it’s real, and it’s for anyone who’s awake at 4 AM, wondering, “What now?” For the restless, the doers, the ones who don’t always have the answers but keep showing up anyway. Done Is Better Than Perfect Sometimes, starting is enough.Here it is: TheGritLog. A space for resilience, for reflection, for the messy in-between moments. It’s not perfect, but it’s real. What will you start tonight? With grit and gratitude, The Gritter

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