Read Time: 2 minutes
What you’ll get out of this newsletter: a path for anyone clawing their way back.
A little more than two years ago, my best friend died from late stage pancreatic cancer.
For 11 months, I split my time between Texas and California to be with her. I tried to balance it all at full speed. I worked as an EIR at Techstars, got my company acquired, went from 0 to 80,000 followers on TikTok, invested in about a dozen startups, and then once she died, I just… stopped.
Stopped making content. Stopped building. Stopped investing. Stopped doing anything, really. (Well, except tweeting lol.)
I started turning down deals and dream partnerships with people and brands I had looked up to for years. I stopped making video content. Stopped showing up anywhere that required me to be on camera.
At the time, everything was taking off. I was making real money. I was meeting my heroes. After a decade of grinding, there was finally real momentum.
But grief doesn’t care about momentum.
It doesn’t care if you’re at rock bottom or at the top of your career. Sometimes it just hits and then it stays.
Now, trying to get back into things, it’s hard not to notice how far other people have come. People I started with. People I helped get started. They’re thriving. Building incredible things.
I’m not usually a jealous person. I’m genuinely happy for them. But still… it stings.
Not because they don’t deserve it.
They really do.
But because for a while, I couldn’t move and they could.
It messes with your head. Makes you feel like you lost more than time. Like a version of your life kept going without you in it. That constant “what if” whisper.
You know it’s not a race. You know there’s no “should.”
But still… you feel behind. You feel jealous. Then you feel guilty for feeling that way at all.
The truth is: We all make choices and sacrifices.
Some push us forward.
Some pull us under.
And sometimes, we don’t get to choose at all.
Grief chooses. Burnout chooses. Life chooses.
And sometimes it’s not fair. Or deserved. Or even preventable.
Statistically, this happens to all of us at some point.
Something knocks the wind out of you. A divorce, a death, a baby, a shutdown, moments that create a change that forces a pause and makes you reevaluate everything.
I’m no expert in starting back up. I’ve done it plenty of times. Usually by stumbling through it until I found a soft landing.
But there are a few things that have helped along the way:
Micro movements. You don’t have to go back to normal right away. You don’t have to operate at 100 percent. Start small. Work in the 10 to 25 percent range. Pick 5 things to get done this week. Do them only when you feel up to it.
Acknowledge it. Acknowledge the part of you that’s gone. The identity that disappeared. To move forward, you have to acknowledge the change.
Feel it. Adapt to it.
And when you’re ready… move.
Move with memory.
Move with clarity.
Move because you still want to.
There’s no one to catch up to. No timeline to make up for.
You just start where you are and move forward with intention.
So let’s go again. Maybe even together this time.
Up and to the right,
Alex (@heyalexfriedman)
