What I’m Taking With Me From Wildland
In life and business, it’s almost always about the journey and not the destination.
One of the hardest disciplines in an entrepreneur’s life is reflection.
Not because we never think about the past, or don’t try to learn from it, but because most of us are futurists by instinct. We live in the “what could be” more than the “what happened.” Both perspectives add value to the world, but one of the drawbacks of always looking ahead is forgetting to pause long enough to acknowledge what was good.
This discipline doesn’t come naturally to me. It requires slowing down, some focus, and a bit of annoying journaling. But the outcomes are always worth it. When I do stop and look back, I’m overwhelmed with a sense of gratitude for the great moments, the hard ones, and all the strange in-betweens.
I’m in that headspace with Wildland. Even though the journey was littered with plenty of shitty moments, when I step back and look at the six years spent trying to launch an outdoor skincare brand, I’m massively thankful I got to experience all of it.
This post is part of a short series I’ve been writing about the closing of Wildland, what I learned, and what I’m taking with me into whatever comes next.
Grateful for the home team.
The best part of any venture is experiencing the journey with friends. Not as business partners or trusted vendors, but as close friends, just trying to support your vision of creating something out of nothing. Launching a company not only refines and tests your tenacity and endurance, but also gives your close friends a chance to show up and shine.
The Wildland launch was no different than any other venture I’ve started. My friends showed up for sunrise video and photo shoots, helped me lug product to locations, sacrificing mornings and weekends simply because they were my friends and wanted to help. No promise of an hourly rate or potential equity, just payment in beers and high-fives.
I’m massively grateful for my friends and family who were rooting for Wildland’s success with me over the past few years, and demonstrating care through words and action.
Grateful for the customers.
Wildland customers were the best part of the experience. Loyal to their core, willing to spend a little bit more money for a higher quality product, while supporting an unproven start-up. Retail stores across the country stocked our product with zero complaints, eager to give us a shot. Communications were always positive, even when the product was damaged mid-shipment or orders accidentally got mixed up in third-party logistics.
The hardest part of shutting Wildland down was having to tell customers that we were closing shop. Emails came flooding in, thanking us for the product with kind words, wishing us the best in the future. Our customers were incredible.
Grateful for the path to try.
Bringing any physical product to life is never simple. Taking something that doesn’t exist, learning to manufacture it, and then seeing it on shelves at a major retailer should be nearly impossible.
It took long hours, our own cash, and more than a hundred phone calls where I felt like the dumbest person in the room, but the path was still accessible. Living in the U.S., having the internet, and having kind people willing to answer question after question made launching Wildland possible.
I probably had no business starting a skincare brand without prior experience. But I’m grateful I got the chance anyway.
Grateful for the experience of it all.
In the end, I’m grateful for everything, the wins that made us feel unstoppable and the failures that hit hard. I learned a lot about myself, my friends, my family, business partnerships, and ultimately, how to recognize when it’s time to turn the lights off.
Not everything is meant to be forever. I’m grateful for that, too.