The Pain and the Gain from Being a Solo-Founder

The two years of building Commonbase as a solo-founder left me with many scars and valuable lessons. I’d love to share a few of these insights with you and my future self.

I never thought I’d become a solo-founder, so how did I end up here?

After my journey with my previous startup, Acapela, I joined a venture fund as a partner. My goal was to source deals and take time to figure out whether and how I’d start another venture.

Each month, I deeply explored a new topic and met potential co-founders to kickstart something new. Despite previously experiencing two challenging co-founder relationships, I believed I had learned enough to identify a great match next time.

Fast forward to early 2023: ChatGPT had just launched, becoming the fastest-growing internet product ever. Coming from productivity tooling and developer infrastructure, I researched how companies could better leverage large language models (LLMs). To avoid crowded productivity spaces, I focused on the less glamorous but critical problems enterprises faced with LLM deployments. In Europe, compliance and observability seemed like perfect angles.

By March, I’d collaborated unsuccessfully with four potential co-founders on different prototypes and ideas. With a strong thesis about LLM observability but no partner in sight, I faced a dilemma: start immediately alone or wait and potentially miss the opportunity. I decided to dive in solo, confident I had both the technical and sales skills necessary—and believing I could always bring in a co-founder later if needed. Well, it turned out to be harder than I thought.

Fundraising, however, was smooth. I raised $1 million in just two weeks from supportive Solo GPs and angels, starting the journey positively.

Me celebrating closing my first SAFE note in Vienna

Next came product development and team building. Hiring freelancers from my previous team, we rapidly built features to keep pace with the swiftly evolving market and customer demands. Revenue appeared, but users struggled to articulate exactly why they paid us. Despite apparent growth, true product-market fit remained elusive.

Loneliness quickly became a reality. The freelancers clocked out promptly at 5 PM—a tough reality for a pre-seed startup founder. It hurt to see I was building something my customers and team didn’t deeply care about. I even doubted if I genuinely cared about the problem myself.

Change became inevitable. When the European AI Act got delayed, the compliance angle evaporated overnight. It was clear I needed to pivot significantly, changing both the market and the team.

Fortunately, I already had a US work visa. Wrapping things up in Berlin quickly, I said an emotional goodbye to great friends and headed west, choosing New York over San Francisco simply because it felt magical and better aligned with my new market—financial institutions.

In the US, I shifted the product toward sales engineers and began actively searching for a co-founder. Solo-founder life had proved emotionally exhausting, and sacrificing equity to relieve that burden seemed entirely worth it.

Finding a co-founder mid-journey, however, proved difficult. What should a trial period look like? Should they build something new or continue with the existing product? I experimented with two talented individuals. One wasn’t a perfect fit, and the other—who initially felt ideal—decided after three months he’d prefer starting something entirely new. After tough investor conversations, I realized I wasn’t prepared to discard all we’d built.

After a final desperate pivot, I recognized that true product-market fit and substantial growth were unlikely. Mentally preparing to wind down, I received an unexpected offer from a customer to license our product. Seeing this as the graceful exit I needed, I swiftly wrapped things up and redistributed the remaining funds to investors, taking a necessary break.

Conversations with investors went easier than expected. One expressed surprise I’d persevered beyond a year; another pinpointed a core issue—a lack of a clear problem. Both observations resonated deeply.

Reflecting on these two challenging years, several lessons stood out clearly:

Firstly, investing in my health was crucial. No matter how difficult things got, maintaining my fitness routine provided energy and mental resilience to overcome lows.

Secondly, raising funds from supportive pre-seed investors made a huge difference. They understood startup struggles and provided invaluable support throughout.

Thirdly, nothing replaces a true co-founder. Regular check-ins with investors and peers helped but didn’t eliminate loneliness. You can’t replicate the emotional support a committed co-founder provides.

Fourthly, selling to the US market proved far easier than Europe. American enterprises actively engage startups, anticipating future disruption—a stark contrast to Europe’s skeptical stance.

If I could redo it, I’d begin immediately—even with an imperfect co-founder—instead of waiting. Progress, even imperfect, is invaluable.

A key takeaway: never optimize a startup purely for venture capitalists. My VC background influenced my decision to pursue ideas that seemed attractive to investors. However, truly great businesses rarely start with obvious ideas aligned with existing VC theses. They’re usually niche, deeply personal ventures driven by intense founder curiosity.

Another personal challenge was the fear of publicly admitting changes or failures. As a second-time founder, I mistakenly believed everyone expected me to have everything figured out. This prevented me from openly sharing my struggles, limiting potential outside help.

Most importantly, pick an industry you’re genuinely passionate about and willing to commit to long-term. Successful startups often emerge from deeply personal interests, initially considered niche or obscure.

After ending Commonbase, a trusted friend reassured me I wasn’t a broken founder and emphasized the importance of pursuing personal interests. Commonbase hadn’t truly reflected my passions, making sustained enthusiasm difficult.

Moving forward, I’m focusing on something deeply personal: longevity and healthcare, inspired by my experiences navigating healthcare in the US. To my surprise, I found no startups effectively addressing preventive healthcare access. This gap has become my new passion.

As the saying goes, “A healthy man has a hundred wishes; an unhealthy man only has one.” Health will be at the heart of my future efforts.

Thanks for following along on this reflective journey. Stay tuned for what’s next!