I remember getting a call from a founder who was stuck on a potential opportunity.
He had been building his bootstrapped company for about a year, and it had been a slog. Things would start going well, then suddenly become difficult again. There were constant ups and downs and very little certainty.
Then one of his mentors made him an offer.
This was someone he looked up to. The mentor wanted him to stop building his company and come work for them instead.
It was a good opportunity. There was guaranteed income, a clear path, and the chance to work closely with someone he admired.
His startup offered none of that.
He called me because he did not know what to do.
Should he keep building his company, or take the job?
At first, the decision appeared to be about risk. One path was stable and clearly defined. The other was uncertain and had already been difficult for a year.
But as we talked, it became clear that the job itself was not what made the decision so hard.
He didn’t really want to take it. I could hear that.
What this was really about… He was afraid to say no.
He felt that declining the offer might disappoint his mentor or damage the relationship. They had already started having conversations about the role, so he also worried that he was stringing the mentor along.
This is a difficult position to be in.
When someone you admire sees a path for you, saying no can feel like rejecting more than an opportunity. It can feel like rejecting the person, the relationship, or even the version of you that they believe in. I’ve seen this first hand in family businesses when the son/daughter takes over the company.
Creating a new strategy or new direction that’s different than what the parents want, can feel like a blow to the relationship that they had. Moving on, or without them.
But beneath the question of which opportunity to choose was a deeper question:
Who did he want to be?
For the past year, he had been a founder. Despite how hard it had been, he did not want to become an employee.
He was not deciding between two jobs.
He was deciding between two identities.
I told him that saying no might not reduce his mentor’s respect for him. It might actually increase it. If he accepted an opportunity he did not want because he was afraid of disappointing someone, he would be giving away his power.
He eventually told his mentor no.
He explained that he wanted to be a founder and that he was going to keep building his company.
The thing he feared would weaken the relationship did the opposite.
By defining what he wanted, he and his mentor became more aligned. Their relationship began to feel less like that of a mentor and protégé and more like that of two entrepreneurs.
Soon afterward, the mentor invited him to a retreat with other founders. He met people he would not otherwise have met and entered rooms he might not have entered as an employee.
Then, much later, something even more interesting happened.
The company he had continued building was acquired by his mentor’s business.
Saying no did not cause the acquisition. But it preserved the path that made the acquisition possible.
I think founders often assume that credibility comes from being chosen.
You are offered the role.
You are invited into the room.
Someone successful sees potential in you.
But sometimes credibility comes from being willing to choose yourself.
This is especially difficult with mentors, parents, and other people whose approval matters to us. Defining a path that is different from the one they imagined can feel disloyal. It can even feel like an attempt to outgrow or outshine them.
But a healthy relationship can survive this self-definition.
Sometimes it becomes stronger because of it.
The principle I took from this conversation is simple:
> Saying no creates credibility.
Not every no creates credibility.
Saying no to the wrong path communicates something important to yourself and others. It shows that your direction is not available to the highest-status person in the room. It shows that you are willing to take responsibility for your own choices.
When an opportunity looks good but feels wrong, it may help to ask:
What would I choose if I were not afraid of disappointing this person?
Do you know yourself well enough to decline?
xx David

Comments
Nothing yet. Say the first thing.
Sign in to join the conversation.