I think I have it in me to be a mentor—a great startup mentor. Just in the last 24 hours, I somehow found myself having these two mentorship moments that just happened, like, naturally. They weren’t planned or formal, but they felt… right.
The first one was with a complete stranger. A friend of mine told this teenager to reach out to me because he wanted to build an AI startup, and my friend was like, “Hey, Michael does AI startups. Go talk to him.” So this young guy messages me, all energy, so full of questions, and honestly, he reminded me of myself back in the day.
We started chatting, and he told me about his idea. He was so passionate, but when he pitched it, he sent me this super long paragraph. Like, I read the first and last sentences and just thought, Nah, this is too much. So I told him to simplify it. “Make it clearer,” I said. “Your pitch should grab attention, not bury it.”
We went back and forth. I asked about his team, his plans, his strategy. He wanted a big team right from the start, and I had to tell him, “Look, a large team isn’t always the answer. Start lean, stay agile.” He had all these questions about funding, and I shared my two cents. I told him to forget about sinking all his resources into product development—it doesn’t cost much. The real cost, the real game, is marketing.
I used myself as an example. A few months before starting Cver AI, I had some money that could’ve been a solid marketing budget. But I didn’t see it. I didn’t think ahead, and no one told me. So when Cver AI launched, I had zero marketing funds. None. And honestly, I’m still recovering from that. It’s a tough lesson, and I didn’t want him to go through the same thing. I told him to set money aside for marketing, for traction, because when investors look at you, the first thing they want to see is traction. No traction? No funding. And to get traction, you need to market your product, test it, break things, and rebuild until you find that product-market fit.
That was one moment. Then, the next morning—barely 24 hours later—a friend of mine from way back reached out. She said, “Michael, I have questions about your company.” And I thought, Wow, this is new. It’s not every day that a friend shows genuine interest in Cver AI. I was excited, so I told her, “Go ahead, ask away. I’m here.”
She sent me this long list of questions—like, really long—and I thought, Okay, let’s do this. I told her I’d be brutally honest, and I was. A month ago, maybe I’d have sugarcoated my answers. Maybe I’d have tried to sound more “put-together.” But something’s shifted in me lately, probably thanks to this blog. It’s made me lighter, freer in how I express myself.
So I gave her the real answers, no fluff. And she appreciated it. Then she told me something that hit me—she’s starting her own company with a co-founder, and she needed advice. That moment right there made me so happy. Knowing that someone sees value in what I’ve learned, that they’d come to me for guidance—that’s a feeling I can’t put into words. She even said she’d come back with more questions, and honestly, I hope she does.
These two experiences made me realize how much we need each other in this industry. We need more stories. We need more people willing to help others get there, whatever “there” looks like. I know I’m still figuring things out myself, but that’s why it matters. It’s not about waiting until I’m “successful” to share my lessons. It’s about doing it now, while I’m still in the middle of it.
I just hope that when I do get to wherever I’m headed, I don’t lose this feeling. I want to remember what it’s like to be here, in the messy, beautiful, growing phase. I want to share my playbook, flaws and all, because if it helps even one person take their first step, it’s worth it.
For now, I’m holding onto these moments. They’ve reminded me of something I’ve always believed but sometimes forget: I can do this. And maybe, just maybe, I already am.