Looking back, it might have been a disaster if I’d gotten into Y Combinator with my first application.
That’s probably not what you’d expect a tech founder to say, but it’s true—even if I couldn’t see it at the time. For years, I pounded on the front door of the world’s leading startup accelerator and they wouldn’t let me in.
But if Y Combinator hadn’t rejected me on my first attempt—or my third, or my sixth—I wouldn’t have been ready for everything they threw at me when I did get accepted. And I don’t know if I’d be the entrepreneur I am today.
Here’s everything valuable I learned from my five-year odyssey, including what it took to get in on the seventh try.
Y Combinator is the gold standard of startup accelerators. The concept is simple: startups apply and, if selected, are put into Y Combinator’s version of startup hyperdrive. Initial funding, mentorship, support, help with networking—the works.
Legendary tech behemoths have emerged from YC: Airbnb, Coinbase, DoorDash, Dropbox, Instacart, Twitch, Reddit, and Stripe all went through the YC accelerator program. It’s the startup Ivy League. Who wouldn’t want in?
Unfortunately, I didn’t know how much had stacked against me when I arrived in Silicon Valley.
First, I was young. I was in my early twenties, which isn’t necessarily unusual for startup founders, but I was the clueless kind of young. I didn’t have any tech background, experience, or skills—just a wild dream of making it into YC someday, somehow.
I was also an outsider. As a European immigrant new to the U.S., I didn’t know anyone. I didn’t have a network of tech insiders I could ask for mentorship or a foot in the door. Hell, I didn’t even speak English very well. I would need to build everything from the ground up—not just my startup, but my entire life.
I thought if I could just get into Y Combinator, none of that would matter. I would emerge from the startup accelerator program as a full-fledged tech titan, no different than my Silicon Valley heroes.
Early in our careers, founders often romanticize the idea of the startup. We have the Hollywood version of the tech founder story playing in our heads 24/7. And the only thing standing between us and a future where Joseph Gordon-Levitt plays us in a movie is: money.
My thought was simple: “If I raise money, I’m successful.” I thought that if I ever landed a million dollars in funding—that’s it. I would have made it. It would take me years to learn that raising money isn’t the goal. It’s a means to an end and it’s pointless if you don’t actually have a business.
And I didn’t have a business. I had an idea for a business—one that I was convinced would change the world!
My first idea was an online education platform called Supercool School. It was in 2007, during the Web 2.0 boom, so user-generated content was on the rise, and online education seemed like an obvious opportunity. Change education, change the world. That’s an idea worth investing in, right?
I even thought my idea was more important than other startups that were hitting the scene at the time. “Airbnb? Just a website to rent your couch to cheap travelers? That’s nothing! My idea is going to revolutionize education!” Ah, the hubris of a young entrepreneur.
Still, I thought if my idea was ambitious enough, maybe Y Combinator would let me in.
But what I received wasn’t an all-access pass to the Silicon Valley dream. Instead, it was a humbling, generic rejection letter from YC.
Clearly, I needed more than just a big idea.
Looking back on it now, I know my problem was that I was playing the idea of entrepreneurship. I was content to daydream about my future success and talk about it to anyone who would listen. It’s not that my idea wasn’t good enough, it’s that I was simply pre-successful.
I was good at getting people excited about my grand ideas and future plans—friends, family, strangers in bars. That kind of optimism and ambition can be a strength, but it can also become a distraction that prevents you from doing the hard, gritty work of building a business.
I was drawn to the distractions and ended up focusing on the wrong priorities—picking out a logo, branding, polishing slide decks, etc. I was practically planning future company retreats for a company that didn’t exist yet!
As an entrepreneur, you need to learn the difference between “being busy” and moving the needle. You can waste entire days tackling the lowest-risk, lowest-consequence activities. If you do it long enough, you can convince yourself you’re “grinding” and “paying your dues.”
But that busy work doesn’t actually move the needle. It’s simply roleplaying the idea of entrepreneurship.
As I kept spinning on my hamster wheel of work that went nowhere, the rejections from Y Combinator kept piling up. Every six months, I would apply, and every six months, I’d get that same generic rejection letter.
Rejections from YC sting. It’s a “no” from the people whose validation you want most in the world. But you can’t let yourself avoid this sting by avoiding the hard work. Instead, have a heart-to-heart with yourself and ask the critical questions:
These lessons took me a long time to learn. I had been treating YC like a lottery: If I kept buying a ticket, maybe I’d win.
But I had to try a completely different approach if I expected a different outcome.
No one likes to hear the advice, “It’s all about who you know.” But there’s some truth to it.
I learned that in order to level up my progress, I needed to spend less time with other daydreamers. I needed to find out what really created startup success. Call it the “proximity rule.” If you put yourself near people with successful habits, eventually, you’re going to cultivate success for yourself.
In my early applications for Y Combinator, I spent a lot of time cultivating relationships with people who were well-intentioned and enthusiastic…but ultimately, many of these people were just as clueless as I was.
If you’re already an outsider like I was, you have to expand your circle of influence.
Success tends to leave breadcrumbs. Rather than focusing on networking with other “wantrepreneurs” who are in the same boat, you should get outside your comfort zone. Eventually, you’ll find people with genuinely helpful experience.
While you shouldn’t exclude anyone simply because they’re not as successful as you’d like, you should be proactive about meeting people with different backgrounds and perspectives. Every new person you meet is an opportunity to find the right people for you.
It’s the same approach Jeff Bezos took early in his career when he wanted to start dating. He started attending ballroom dance classes. He wasn’t particularly interested in ballroom dancing—he just wanted to increase the chances he’d meet someone.
After a few years immersed in Silicon Valley, I gained traction by meeting more tech people, attending more events, and building a network of talented people who could teach me things I didn’t know.
The lesson is simple: don’t just dream about success. Go out and meet it.
For me, I was lucky enough to meet Anthony Nemitz and Tom Steinacher, two talented young developers who I immediately recognized as being special. I knew I wanted to work with them one day, even if I wasn’t sure how yet.
I’ll fast forward to the death of my first startup, Supercool School (R.I.P.).
I tried six times to get into Y Combinator with that idea. All I had to show for it was six rejections.
After years of banging my head against the wall trying to make it work, I was finally honest with myself and admitted defeat. As soon as I let go of my first idea, I felt like a weight had been lifted. I was free to return to the drawing board, wipe it clean, and start over. Immediately, I had a new idea I was excited about.
For my next startup, I partnered with Anthony and Tom, the two talented developers I had met in the Bay. The result was SwipeGood: a charitable giving app that lets users round up their transactions to effortlessly donate to the charity of their choice.
With this new idea, I didn’t waste time with all the bullshit that had slowed me down before. I had made enough painful mistakes to know which were the right levers to pull to make real progress.
Those levers were:
Will all of these levers pulled, I had something my first idea had been lacking: momentum. By the time I applied to YC with SwipeGood, the rapid iteration and working proof of concept meant I was finally a serious contender.
I decided that on my seventh attempt, I wouldn’t treat my YC application like a lottery ticket. I would be more strategic.
I met with founders who had gone through YC and I pitched them our idea for SwipeGood, asking for their expert feedback. I got mixed reactions—some founders thought the idea sucked, and others were more encouraging.
One founder was excited enough about SwipeGood that he emailed his recommendation to Y Combinator co-founder Paul Graham directly. Two hours later, Paul emailed us back with an invite to the program.
On the one hand, it blows my mind that once I finally had a viable startup idea, it only took two hours to get accepted into YC.
On the other hand, I knew that it really took five years for me to learn all the things, make all the mistakes, and meet all the people it took to become the kind of entrepreneur who could get into YC. It was an overnight success five years in the making.
The YC experience was completely transformative. Within two weeks, we successfully raised $1.2 million in funding.
What else did we get from our YC experience?
All the lessons I learned in YC became the foundation for the company I run today, Close, a B2B SaaS company with $30 million in ARR.
If you’re a young entrepreneur filled with big dreams and few ideas about how to make them a reality, here’s what I’d tell you: