The biggest difference between me as a third-time founder and a first-time founder is that I now hold higher standards. Put simply, I have a clearer sense of what good and bad look like—and the decisiveness to act on that knowledge.
Everyone agrees high standards matter. The challenge is acting on them, because maintaining a high bar almost always means inviting conflict. Most of us aren’t wired to embrace conflict, so we hesitate. The real hurdle isn’t setting the standard; it’s refusing to lower it when things get uncomfortable.
Here are three lessons that have shaped how I stay determined.
Lesson 1: People want a demanding bar.
In my first company, we signed our first customer while mid-pivot. They liked the product but asked for several new features.
Instead of signing them as-is, we promised to build every feature within a few weeks. The team worked around the clock and delivered. That customer became a key reference and stayed through our eventual acquisition.
That sprint left a lasting pride. Ambitious goals don’t just test people—they energize them. Set the bar high, give support, and teams often surpass their own expectations.
Lesson 2: Higher standards stick when paired with respect.
At one of my companies, a teammate kept slipping deadlines. I dreaded the conversation, but I invited them to lunch instead of a curt video call. We talked about their career goals first, then I explained why we couldn’t continue.
They surprised me by saying, “I’ve been feeling it too. Thanks for being straight with me.”
We parted on good terms, and I later referred them to a better-fit company. You can insist on excellence and still treat people with dignity. Respect doesn’t lower the bar; it makes it sustainable.
Lesson 3: Others have high standards for you.
While fundraising for my third company, I pitched an angel investor introduced by my lead. The meeting felt great—I was already thinking about allocation. Hours later, I learned they’d passed.
Their feedback: “I assumed you’d be presentation-ready—you seem so polished in your writing.”
That was a gut punch. While I thought I was being “authentic,” I came across as unpolished. They expected excellence because that’s what I’d promised in every email. Customers, investors, teammates—they all notice when you don’t meet the standard you set.
High standards aren’t about perfectionism—they’re about trust. When you show that the bar is real and you’re willing to face the discomfort of holding it, people rise with you. The hard part isn’t setting the standard; it’s refusing to lower it when things get messy—and that’s what builds something enduring.