When I was in grade 9 I had an idea called Greybeard. A social platform for old people. My grandmother could not use anything on her phone and it annoyed me, so I decided somebody should build something, and the somebody was going to be me.
I had no product. I had no team. I had a laptop and too much time.
So I did the only thing I could think of. I found investor emails, and I started sending.
The first ten got nothing. Not a no. Just nothing, which is worse, because at least a no is a reply.
Twenty. Nothing.
Thirty. Nothing.
Somewhere around then I remember deciding I was probably not the type of person this works for. That the people who get replies are different. Better school, better English, uncle in the industry, something.
I kept going anyway, mostly out of stubbornness.
Past fifty emails, one investor replied. And then he actually took the meeting.
Here is the part that took me years to understand
Nothing changed between email ten and email fifty. Not my idea, not my pitch, not me. I was the same kid with the same laptop.
The only thing that changed was the count.
That meeting did not turn into money and Greybeard did not turn into a company. Does not matter. What I got was proof that the thing everybody calls luck has a dial on it, and the dial is just how many times you show up.