Write Investor Updates That Build Trust

Hey Reader,

One of the things you only discover by being a founder is that... You never arrive. The goal posts always move.

We know this. Build the product, no time to celebrate, now you need a customer. Sign the customer, no time to celebrate, now you need to fix the bugs. Fix the bugs, no time to celebrate, now you have to keep your customers. It's always "just one more thing."

Perhaps my fave way of explaining it is: as a founder, you are always standing on the edge of a cliff. When something great happens, you are allowed to take two steps back. Then someone pushes you right back to the edge.

Nothing you do at any single step is ever enough. That's a feature, not a bug.

This isn't a startup thing. It's not even new.

This exact feeling — being in motion but never arriving — is 2,500 years old. It's called Zeno’s Dichotomy Paradox.

Zeno argued: to reach a destination, you must first get halfway there. Then halfway again. And again. Always closer — but never there.

Welcome to startups.

You’re always moving.
You’re always improving.
You’re always almost there.

But never fully there. Because the moment you do, another gap opens.

Year three? You hit your numbers, raised some capital — still scrambling. Friends with jobs are on vacation. You’re pitching the “this is our breakout year” speech. Again.

Privately? You wonder if you're any closer at all.

This isn’t failure. This is Zeno’s revenge.

Why write this? Because the myth says startup life has clean stages:

Idea → MVP → PMF → Growth → Scale → Exit

Reality?

Idea → Rejection → Spike → Churn → Pivot → Repeat

Always halfway to something — PMF, product fix, feature unlock, the next raise, clarity, momentum.

And the toll compounds. Halfway in year one is different from halfway in year five. The weight grows. So does the cost — health, relationships, confidence.

It gets faster. You get better. But the treadmill speeds up too. Founder burnout isn’t about hours. It’s the mental load of being *almost there*, always.

So maybe — stop trying to arrive?

There is no end. Just another level of clarity. Another layer of insight. Another edge to stand on.

The real shift: Build your operating system around that fact.

Don’t wait to feel “done” before taking bold swings. You’ll be waiting forever.

Instead, turn halfway into your edge. Build systems and rituals that honor momentum, not finality.

Celebrate — then move. Design for endurance. Derive meaning from the motion.

Because the job isn’t to arrive. The job is to lead while uncertain. Build while halfway. Decide on the cliff edge.

Maybe the job is learning to love the vertigo.

You’re not lost. You’re just halfway. Again. And again. That’s not failure. That’s progress.

The great ones? They don’t “arrive.” They master motion.

— James