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\n\t\tOpinions expressed by Entrepreneur contributors are their own.\t<\/p>\n
When I sit down with established founders, some talk about their wins and milestones as if the path to success was a straight line \u2014 a pretty picture where every decision was great and every bet paid off.<\/p>\n
But having built and scaled businesses across two continents, I can tell you that the cleanest-sounding stories are likely not the most honest ones. In fact, whenever I meet an entrepreneur whose career sounds like one uninterrupted sequence of brilliant decisions, I immediately become nervous.<\/p>\n
It reminds me of an old mountaineering adage: \u201cIf a climber told me they\u2019d never made a mistake on a peak, I wouldn\u2019t feel impressed. I\u2019d worry. Because either they haven\u2019t climbed very much, or they aren\u2019t telling the truth.\u201d<\/p>\n
The mountain has a funny way of making lessons memorable, which is why you\u2019ll notice experienced climbers rarely boast about their successes first; they talk about facing and overcoming challenges, because their mistakes taught them how to survive. The veterans I know can tell you exactly where they\u2019ve gone wrong. They remember the route where they took a wrong turn and lost hours, or the weather forecast they should have paid more attention to and paid the price for it.<\/p>\n
The exact same thing is true in business, although as business owners, our tendency can be to pretend otherwise. I too did this more times than I care to admit, because pretending everything is great feels like the right thing to do at times to keep morale high and show a strong front, even when it\u2019s not.<\/p>\n
Once people start looking to you for answers, you\u2019re expected to have them. Once you\u2019ve built a reputation, you\u2019re expected to protect it. If you\u2019re reading this, chances are that you\u2019ve felt this.<\/p>\n
So, many business owners begin editing their own story. That failed partnership that cost you money and peace? That slowly disappears from the timeline. That product launch that didn\u2019t match your expectations \u2014 reduced to a footnote. The bad hire that cost you six months of headaches somehow never made it into the next keynote presentation.<\/p>\n
Over time, a strange thing happens. The story becomes cleaner on paper, but the person becomes less<\/em> believable.<\/p>\n Skepticism sets in because that\u2019s not how business works. It\u2019s certainly not how life works.<\/p>\n For generations, a fascinating story has circulated about Persian rug weavers. When creating an intricate, beautiful carpet, the master weavers would deliberately leave a tiny imperfection somewhere in the design, such as a skipped knot or a misplaced color.<\/p>\n Their reasoning: \u201cOnly the divine can create perfection.\u201d<\/p>\n Whether every version of that ancient story is historically true is almost beside the point. People keep repeating it across centuries because they recognize a deep human truth in it: Perfection is cold and distant. We\u2019re human, and we\u2019re relatable and familiar precisely because of our flaws.<\/p>\n When we try to weave a flawless entrepreneurial narrative, we lose that familiarity.<\/p>\n You can see a similar philosophy in a Japanese art form called Kintsugi. When a ceramic bowl breaks, the craftsman repairs the cracks with gold lacquer. Instead of throwing the broken piece away or trying to glue it back together seamlessly, the repair remains entirely visible. The history of the object is highlighted, not hidden.<\/p>\n Most of us spend our lives trying to hide the cracks, but both the rug weavers and the ceramic masters understood that the value is actually found in<\/em> the imperfections.<\/p>\n You are far from the first business owner to unintentionally sacrifice family time for the sake of the business. Or delay a difficult conversation with a partner. Maybe you\u2019ve even spent a year pursuing an idea that had little chance of working.<\/p>\n These pitfalls are part of entrepreneurship at your scale, and no one will blame you if you become aware of them and actively manage them. The real trouble begins when one refuses to acknowledge them.<\/p>\n When the disconnect with your family continues to grow, or the partnership continues deteriorating, and the failing idea receives more time, more money, and more attention because admitting the mistake feels too painful, that\u2019s the real cost: how long we spend pretending there isn\u2019t a problem.<\/em><\/p>\n Many people assume scars are evidence of failure. I think they\u2019re evidence of participation. You cannot spend years building a business, leading people, making decisions and taking risks without emerging with a few scars along the way.<\/p>\n The entrepreneur with no scars worries me far more than the entrepreneur who can point to several. At least the second person has been in the arena. At least they\u2019ve learned something, and they\u2019ve stopped confusing perfection with competence.<\/p>\n When this concept comes up during my coaching sessions, my clients realize that most of their regrets didn\u2019t necessarily begin with mistakes, but they began with avoidance:<\/strong><\/p>\n A mistake acknowledged becomes a lesson. A mistake denied becomes a regret.<\/p>\n Understanding that building a business in a way that you don\u2019t need to escape from, justify or apologize for later can be the difference between struggling and doing $10M+ in annual revenue without breaking a sweat. When who you are is no longer dependent on a spotless story, it frees you. <\/p>\n The next time you meet a business owner with a too-perfect story, be careful. They may have spent years polishing away the very experiences that could have taught them something useful.<\/p>\n The entrepreneurs I trust most can tell you exactly where they got it wrong. Do they enjoy talking about failure? No, but they\u2019ve stopped hiding from it!<\/p>\n As my friend and mentor Dr. Marshall Goldsmith says, \u201cwhat got you here won\u2019t get you there.\u201d The wisdom it takes to scale at your level comes from getting things wrong and refusing to waste the lesson.<\/p>\n The mountaineer who has never made a mistake worries me. The entrepreneur who claims the same should worry you, too.<\/p>\n These experiences are not embarrassing parts of your story. They are the education and evidence that you were brave enough to climb the mountain in the first place.<\/p>\n<\/p><\/div>\n When I sit down with established founders, some talk about their wins and milestones as if the path to success was a straight line \u2014 a pretty picture where every decision was great and every bet paid off.<\/p>\n But having built and scaled businesses across two continents, I can tell you that the cleanest-sounding stories are likely not the most honest ones. In fact, whenever I meet an entrepreneur whose career sounds like one uninterrupted sequence of brilliant decisions, I immediately become nervous.<\/p>\n It reminds me of an old mountaineering adage: \u201cIf a climber told me they\u2019d never made a mistake on a peak, I wouldn\u2019t feel impressed. I\u2019d worry. Because either they haven\u2019t climbed very much, or they aren\u2019t telling the truth.\u201d<\/p>\n<\/p><\/div>\nYour scars matter. Don\u2019t hide them.<\/h2>\n
The mistakes are rarely the problem<\/h2>\n
What battle scars actually prove<\/h2>\n
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Key Takeaways<\/h2>\n
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