Start-ups were my first love. I vividly remember the excitement back in 2008, stepping into a dusty basement in the outskirts of Bucharest, on one of my first design interviews. I was as prepared as one could be: wearing my freshly ironed shirt, with a portfolio showcasing my best work, and and my responses to potential questions rehearsed to perfection.

Little did I know, I was about to step into a realm where conventional rules didn't apply. No need for a portfolio. No "Where do you see yourself in 5 years?" answers. No probation period or PTA conversations. Only a daunting question that would to define my journey for the next few months: "Will this work?"

This was the start of my start-up journey: move fast, break things, ship quickly. Endless nights spent in front of the computer, hundreds of screens designed in Adobe Fireworks, passionate debates about how things should function and an overarching ambition to change the world. After (too) many months, it failed.

I was heartbroken. The thing that I've put all my energy into was now gone. It was then followed by what felt like endless days of "nothing much". Still working, but with the volume turned to low. Until, months later, when I received a message from the same founder: "What if...?".

Back to square one. But this time, let's do it faster. Pivot. Shake things up. Try harder. Go back. Try again. Only this time... it worked. And the excitement was back.

Since then, I became much better at this start-up thing. I got the chance to experiment growth in the true sense, helping launch numerous start-ups and taking companies from pre-Seed stage to Series A and beyond.

But one thing never changes: Whenever I have a conversation with a founder, I'm back in that dusty basement, ready to get to work.