I’m a daughter of immigrant parents. Growing up, I watched them work hard, but not what some might call “smart.” My dad was a small business owner with a wholesale grocery business. He worked long days—loading boxes of inventory from our garage into his truck, taking orders over the phone, writing them down on notepads and delivering product to his clients all over LA. By himself. He never hired anyone and was generally reluctant to “spend money to make money.” Saving money was how he made money. And he wore that skill like a badge of honor.
Today I see myself mirroring my dad’s behavior—I try to do everything myself, I’m reluctant to hire, I think more about saving than taking big risks to drive growth. And there’s nothing wrong with this mindset in and of itself. The friction I’m feeling arises from the fact that I have goals that require greater risk. Either my goals or my behavior has to change, but they can’t be misaligned. I want to change my behavior.
What’s confusing is that so much of what I learned from my dad growing up has contributed to the early success of Mixed. I know how to be scrappy and do a lot with a little. I know how to manage a tight P&L. I don’t spend beyond my means. But now, the very beliefs that helped me get here are starting to hold me back. The business has different needs today than it did one year ago and I need to shed some of my inherited beliefs in order to meet them. But it feels like I’m abandoning a part of myself, my family, my immigrant roots.
This is what I love most about building a business—it challenges you to bring forth a new version of yourself at every new stage of growth. The question I’ve continuously asked myself is: will I rise to the occasion?
I’ve spent a lot of timing thinking about how I might break through these old beliefs, and I think the only way to break them is to well…break them. I have to act differently. Especially when it feels scary and foreign—and allow new beliefs to form from new actions.
The thing that’s stopping me most is fear. Fear that I’ll fling myself into severe financial stress or break the business or ruin my reputation. When I run the worst case scenario out in my head, I ask: what would I do? I’d start over. As hard as it would be, I’d start over. I'd live.
Breakthroughs happen when we believe that what we have to gain is greater than what we might lose. And when we can look at the worst case scenario in the face and believe that we can survive it.
The other day, I was talking about all of this on the phone with my dad. We connected in a way we don't often, if ever. He understood my fears precisely and shared his regret for playing it too safe in his business. He told me to shoot for more. And that made me think—maybe I’m not abandoning my immigrant parents, maybe this is what it looks like to stand on their shoulders.