We all want our chapters in life to end nicely.
We all want to end our time in a workplace on a happy note.
And so do I.
But that’s not how it always works.
Recently, the startup I’ve worked at for the past (almost) 4 years has shut down its Israeli operations.
It’s been hard.
What started as an incredible, thrilling roller coaster ride with an amazing group of fun, talented people slowly became a cruel, agonizingly slow spectacle of our site’s closure.
One by one, I’ve watched as the people I’ve spent countless hours laughing, arguing, and bonding with went their own separate ways, some of their own choice, others not.
During the couple of weeks of the aftermath, I’ve been reflecting on the lessons we learned the hard way, as well as some lessons we never learned but should have.
Having been there from the super early days, I’ve witnessed all kinds of pains and struggles a young startup could go through.
To be honest, trying to weigh the good decisions we’ve made against the bad ones was not a fun game to play in my head.
So, in this piece, I wanted to share some of the lessons I’ve taken with me from a 4-year bumpy journey.
The Code Is Not Your Greatest Asset, The People Are
It’s tempting to fall in love with the polish of a sleek, market-ready product—the kind that makes potential customers eager to throw money at it after a single demo.But here’s the thing: even the most impressive product won’t shine for long without a solid team behind it.
The true engine of any successful venture isn’t the code, it’s the people who write, test, manage, and maintain it.
Of course, this doesn’t just apply to developers. Product managers, QA testers, designers—anyone involved in bringing the product to life—are all part of the equation.
Now, you might be thinking, “Well, duh. This is common sense. Why did I even click on this post?”
Fair question, and also… ouch.
The thing that seems to always get away from people, is that they seem to think it all comes down to recruiting the best people for the job, which is critical, sure, but it’s not where things end.
The real challenge lies in keeping those people engaged, satisfied, and motivated. Too often, organizations overlook this.
When people feel undervalued, overworked, or like their work-life balance is a distant memory, motivation plummets. Productivity takes a hit. Quality declines.
And eventually, people leave.
I’ve witnessed multiple talented individuals—some in pivotal roles—felt their efforts weren’t recognized or their personal lives were being sacrificed for the sake of relentless deadlines.
Ultimately, many of those people left, seeking something better elsewhere.
And when those people leave, especially if they’re in key positions, it doesn’t just sting, it rattles the entire system.
And even if you claim that everyone is replaceable, you likely won’t gain a bigger value than from someone who’s been cared for and stuck around for years and years.
While hitting sales goals and meeting deadlines is crucial for a startup to stay afloat, none of that matters if your talent is walking out the door faster than you can onboard replacements.
Sustained success isn’t just about survival metrics, it’s about cultivating an environment where people want to stick around.
In The Fight Against Time, Don’t Ruin Your Velocity
Someone once told me that time is a startup’s biggest enemy.There’s a constant rush to get an MVP off the ground, to get a feature delivered to a customer, to nail potential customers with flashy demos.
More times than not, these situations make you face a choice between a better, cleaner code and faster shipping.
Guess which one wins most of the time?
I get it, a startup is often more concerned with meeting its deadlines and business goals rather than having things written better, but this decision could often come at the cost of velocity.
The “quick and dirty” way of coding features can really bite you in the ass when you start revisiting that code for further enhancements and additions.
Whether it’s doing a better API design, adopting a new, more fitting technology for a feature, or simply writing a better code.
Obviously, you can’t always spend a month writing code so clean and sexy it could start its own Instagram account, but it’s always worth asking the question: “How much time will it cost me to write it in a better way?”
Sometimes, a few extra days of work is worth the trouble, if it means the next feature enhancement can be delivered in half the time.
Here’s a neat rule of thumb: never rush towards the first solution, always consider the options.
If you can pay the price of time for the “slow and clean” way, pay it.
If you can’t, don’t.
But always keep count of the decisions you’ve made, and always reflect back to see if you’re not tipping way too many times in one direction.
Communication Can Make or Break You
If there’s one thing startups love, it’s moving fast.If there’s one thing startups forget, it’s communicating while doing it.
I can’t count the number of times we ran full speed ahead on a project, only to realize halfway through that we didn’t actually agree on many parts of what we were building. Or worse, that the business team had already promised something wildly different to a customer.
Somewhere along the way, assumptions became facts, and Slack messages became archaeology projects trying to piece together who said what.
Miscommunication wasn’t just an occasional issue, it was the silent killer of productivity.
Features were built, scrapped, and rebuilt.
And somehow, there was always that one person who had no idea what was happening, even though it had been discussed a hundred times.
The lesson? Over-communicate. Say things twice, maybe three times.
Write them down. Clarify expectations.
If something feels off, call it out before it snowballs into a catastrophe.
Because before we knew it, “We should’ve talked about this earlier” became the unofficial tagline of every feature project.
The Power of Saying “No”
Ah, the startup culture: where every new idea is a golden opportunity and every pitch is a potential breakthrough.You’ll often hear about busting your ass, grinding, and taking risks, but no one talks about the underrated power of saying “no.”
Learning to say no is just as important as saying yes to the right opportunities.
At first, everything seems exciting. You want to jump on every new project, every new feature, and every cool idea that walks through the door.
Don’t worry about the tech debt we’ll accumulate or the massive amount of time it’ll take to develop it, not to mention the extra time spent on bug fixing and further enhancements.
As long as we deliver, we’re good.
Wrong.
Here’s the harsh reality: You can’t do it all.
And more importantly, not every idea is worth chasing.
At times, it felt like we said “yes” to everything.
New feature? Yes.
New customer request? Yes.
New third-party integration? Yes, please.
Before long, we were drowning in a sea of half-finished tasks and dirty code, constantly juggling priorities and pretending like we had it all under control.
The key lesson here is simple: saying no doesn’t make you lazy or unambitious. It makes you strategic.
It’s about knowing when to focus, when to conserve energy, and when to stop trying to be everything to everyone.
You can’t build a great company by trying to please everyone, and sometimes the smartest thing you can do is look at that shiny new idea and just say, “No, thank you. We’ll focus on what matters.”
It might feel counterintuitive at first, but in the end, it saves you a ton of wasted effort and makes the work that does get done far more impactful.
Conclusion
I spent nearly four years in a startup that was equal parts thrilling, chaotic, exhausting, and unforgettable.I’ve seen it at its best—full of energy, ideas, and people who genuinely wanted to build something great, and I’ve seen it at its worst—when those same people were drained, frustrated, and slowly trickling out the door.
I won’t pretend it was all smooth sailing, and I won’t sugarcoat the ending.
Watching something you’ve poured years of your life into fall apart is heartbreaking.
But if there’s one thing I take with me, it’s that every experience, good or bad, teaches you something.
I’ve learned that people, not products, make a company.
That rushing without thinking costs you more in the long run.
And most importantly, that every startup has an expiration date—but the lessons you take with you don’t.
So, here’s to the chaos, the sleepless nights, the inside jokes, the last-minute pivots, and the people who made it all worth it.
The site may be gone, but the experience? That stays forever.