HODL.

Last week, I had lunch with the founder of one of my direct competitors.

He’s doing well. He’s built a great company. And, as it turns out, competitors have plenty to talk about when they’re not trying to steal each other’s customers.

We talked about go-to-market strategies, software development, and the usual headaches that come with running a business.

Despite his success, I could tell something was off.

Eventually, the conversation turned to investors. I knew he’d raised money, so I asked how things were going with the people on his cap table.

And that’s when I realized something “obvious” to most.

He wanted to sell. I wanted to hold.

On paper, we’re building similar companies. In reality, we’re playing two completely different games.

His company was something he wanted to build, grow, and eventually sell.

Mine was something I wanted to build, grow, and keep forever, if possible.

Founders often refer to their companies as their babies. It’s a ridiculous analogy, of course, but I don’t want to sell my baby. I want to see it grow up.

Of course, there’s nothing wrong with selling a company. Plenty of founders do it, and for perfectly good reasons.

But the intention to sell changes the way you build.

Can you raise a child with the same sense of care and responsibility if you know, from the very beginning, that one day you’ll have to hand it over to another family?

Maybe you can.

But I know I couldn’t.

I’m not building to exit. I’m building to stay.