Building in public means sharing the downs with the ups, the rejections with the acceptances, and the moments when your emotional GPS recalculates every 2 minutes. Today was a masterclass in all three, and I'm grateful for the reminder that this journey makes absolutely no sense, and that's exactly the point.

September 1st, 2025 - New York City

Some days, the startup gods have a twisted sense of humor. Today was one of those days.

In the span of exactly 2 minutes, or 120 seconds of pure emotional chaos, I experienced the gut punch of rejection followed by the euphoric high of acceptance. Both emails were waiting in my inbox while we were in New York, both unexpected, both life-changing in their own way.

The universe, it seems, has impeccable timing and a dark sense of humor.

Email #1: The Elegant Execution

The first email was from our #1 choice lead investor. Let's call them "Dream VC" because that's what they were.

You know that feeling when you see an email from an investor you've been courting, and your heart stops for just a second? That Schrodinger cat moment before you click when anything is still possible?

I clicked.

"But just to be transparent, we see a lot of creator / influencer apps given [partner's] connection to music and entertainment. I think because we are already heavily invested in [another startup] for the last few years... this may be too close a cousin inside our portfolio."

There it was. The polite, professional, almost apologetic rejection wrapped in silk gloves.

"My gut is we are conflicted out."

The managing partner couldn't have been nicer about it. They even ended with "I loved you from hello!" and offered to be "friends and mutual cheerleaders."

But make no mistake: this was a no. A definitive, well-reasoned, strategic no from our dream lead investor.

The Gut Punch (Duration: 120 Seconds)

For context, Dream VC wasn't just another firm on our list. We'd been intentional about who we wanted as our lead. The partners' expertise combined with their insight into the creator economy felt like the perfect fit. We'd specifically told them in our pitch: "We've been intentional about who we want as lead, and you are our #1 choice."

When your #1 choice says no, it hits different.

I stared at my phone in our hotel room in Williamsburg, feeling that familiar startup founder sensation, the one where your stomach drops and your mind immediately starts racing through worst-case scenarios:

Were we wrong about our positioning? Too competitive with existing portfolio companies? Was our timing off?

We literally had 120 seconds to process this existential crisis before...

Email #2: The Universe's Punchline

Exactly 2 minutes later, we opened the next email.

"Dear Mel, I just wanted to follow up on my previous email to make sure it reached you..."

This one was from Alexia Reiss at SISTA AI. We almost didn't click it: fundraising rejections have a way of making you paranoid that the universe is just piling on. Like, "Oh, you got rejected? Here, let me show you THREE more ways things can go wrong!"

But then we saw the key line buried in the follow-up:

"I'm thrilled to let you know that your application has been successful. If you're still interested, we would be truly honored to welcome you and GYST into the SISTA community."

We had to read it twice. Then three times. Then looked at each other like "Does this say what I think it says, or am I having a stress-induced hallucination?"

We'd been accepted into the SISTA AI program, a very selective cohort designed specifically to support 20 AI-powered startups led by women. Not only accepted, but they were "thrilled" and "truly honored" to welcome us.

The emotional whiplash was so intense I briefly wondered if I was being punk'd by some kind of startup reality show.

The 2-Minute MBA in Human Psychology

Here's what 2 minutes of emotional archaeology taught me about the fundraising journey (and apparently my own psychology):

- Rejection isn't personal, but it feels personal: The VC's reasoning was sound business logic: portfolio conflicts are real, and investors have to make strategic choices about concentration risk. But when you're in the moment, logic is not comforting. At all!

- The universe has comedic timing: If we had read the SISTA email first, we would have celebrated properly. And then the VC rejection would have crashed us all the way down the Mariana trench! But reading it 2 minutes after rejection? That's not coincidence; that's the universe saying "I got you!"

- Your emotional state is not your startup's state: This might be the most important lesson. At minute 1, we were questioning our entire strategy. At minute 3, we felt validated. Nothing about GYST changed in those 120 seconds: nothing about our product, our traction, our team, or our market opportunity. The only thing that changed was my emotional GPS: recalculating... recalculating...

The Plot Twist (Or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love Chaos)

The most fascinating part? Both emails were actually good news wearing different costumes.

The VC's rejection came with genuine praise and an offer to stay connected. And their reasoning actually validated our market positioning. If we're "too close" to successful creator economy companies, we're probably in the right neighborhood. We just need to knock on different doors.

SISTA's acceptance opened a completely different door: one that leads to a community of AI-focused female founders, direct access to AWS resources, and a structured program specifically designed for companies like ours. Plus, they're French, which means a certain je ne sais quoi.

It's like being told you can't date the prom queen because she's already taken, then immediately having the valedictorian ask you to the dance. Both responses are about fit, not worth.

The Bigger Picture (Or: Why Startups Are Like Dating, But With More Spreadsheets)

Today reminded me why we call this "building in public." The rollercoaster isn't a bug in the entrepreneurial experience: it's the main feature. Every founder goes through these moments. The difference is how you process them and whether you learn to laugh at the absurdity.

Our dream VC was right to pass on us given their portfolio strategy. SISTA was right to accept us given theirs. Both decisions were correct within their contexts.

Our job as founders isn't to take either personally. It's to extract maximum learning from both experiences, maintain our sense of humor, and keep building through the chaos.

What's Next (Or: How to Build a Startup While Your Emotions Are "Inside Out")

We'll keep executing on our roadmap. We have our alpha launch at Press Publish NYC and our beta on the Web Summit in November. We're hoping to speak at the One Billion Followers Summit in January. We have strong momentum from customers and angel investors.

One rejection doesn't change our trajectory. One acceptance doesn't either.

But both experiences reminded me of something important: in startups, as in life, you're always 2 minutes away from your next plot twist.

The question isn't whether the roller coaster will continue. It's whether you'll learn to enjoy the ride, or at least not throw up on the other passengers.

What's the shortest amount of time between your biggest startup low and high? I'm convinced 2 minutes has to be some kind of record... hehehe.