I never set out to run a food tech company. Law school teaches you about contracts, not croissants. But somewhere between experimenting with flour blends in my kitchen and negotiating licensing deals, I accidentally became an entrepreneur. Turns out, pivoting careers is a lot like trying a new recipe – exhilarating, occasionally disastrous, and always a bit of a surprise.
The “Imposter Syndrome” Bakery
Don’t get me wrong, the early days were thrilling. Seeing the genuine need my low-glycemic creations filled was incredibly validating. But with that came a sinking feeling: I had zero experience with the business side of things. Suddenly, my biggest problems weren’t about perfecting a formula, but figuring out how to price products, manage inventory, and decipher the baffling world of food labeling requirements.
Cue the frantic late-night googling sessions that would make any law firm partner cringe. I’d go from drafting ironclad contracts to trying to understand the difference between an LLC and an S-corp, my brain threatening to short-circuit at any moment.
When Your Team is Smarter Than You
The hardest part was realizing I couldn’t do it all. As my innovation gained traction, I needed actual food scientists, engineers to scale production…people with expertise I couldn’t fake. Let me tell you, it’s humbling to go from being the top dog in a boardroom to feeling like the dumbest person in your own lab meetings. But that’s when I learned a crucial founder lesson: your job isn’t to have all the answers, it’s to build a team who does.
Learning to Delegate (Before Burning Everything Down)
Founders are notorious control freaks (myself included). But at a certain point, micromanaging every recipe tweak and production line decision is a recipe for a full-blown meltdown. Delegation is an art form, and one I initially failed spectacularly. Turns out, barking orders like I was in a courtroom doesn’t go over well with scientists.
What did work? Setting clear goals, trusting in my team’s expertise, and admitting when I needed help. Honestly, sometimes the best way I could contribute was to get out of their way, and maybe bribe them with samples of the latest experimental batch to keep morale up.
The Accidental CEO
The day I had to officially change my title from “Baker with a Science Problem” to “CEO” was surreal. My meticulously tailored suits didn’t exactly scream “startup founder”. But over time, I’ve realized there’s no one-size-fits-all mold for success. My path might have been messy, but it forced me to develop a scrappiness and adaptability that’s probably more valuable than any MBA.
If you’re the kind of person who sees a problem and can’t help but try to solve it, even if it leads you down a wildly unexpected path, maybe the title “Accidental Founder” is the perfect fit for you too.
