Self-Care Isn’t Selfish
There’s a typical expectation toward founders: we are the relentless believers of the vision and the eternal optimists of the team. But what happens when we lose our mojo and our optimism?
As a founder, you’re expected to be the eternal optimist — the one who believes in the vision even when others doubt it. Through hard times, you can always see that shining goal ahead of you. You believe that with a little hard work it’ll be in your hands, no matter the challenges or relentless ups and downs of startup life. Optimism is your superpower to lead yourself out of any sticky situation.
For years, I embodied that optimism. I co-founded Allpago with my partner Philipp, and after six years of grit and determination, we had the incredible opportunity to merge with PPRO in 2019. Life seemed like a series of wins. But then, something shifted. Quietly, subtly, I found myself disconnected from the energy that once drove me.
The stress of the merger, the birth of my second son, and my father’s illness and passing created a perfect storm. My health began to decline, and before I realized it, I had hit rock bottom. Optimism, my steadfast companion, could no longer lift me. And what happens when the optimism fades, when you wake up and suddenly feel disconnected from the energy that once fueled you?
The scariest part wasn’t just the loss of motivation — it was losing myself. I became someone I didn’t recognize, lashing out at those closest to me. My family, the people I love most, bore the brunt of my pain. It was a wake-up call I couldn’t ignore. Admitting I needed help was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done, but it led me to therapy. After just a few sessions, I received a diagnosis I hadn’t expected: depression.
When you’re in a good place, you see the world as full of opportunities — there’s always a way forward. But depression narrows your mind. For me, everything felt hopeless and I wanted a way out of the situation. I fixated on a very specific outcome: growing the company and achieving an IPO as if that alone would solve everything. That tunnel vision didn’t just limit my thinking — it made me a worse leader.
I could no longer inspire my team emotionally, nor could I think creatively to solve problems. The more I failed to meet my own expectations as a leader, the deeper I sank into depression. It became a vicious cycle: my declining performance at work fed my feelings of inadequacy, which only worsened my depression and further eroded my ability to lead.
Therapy was the key to breaking that cycle. It taught me that my relentless positivity had become a barrier. By suppressing negative emotions for so long, I had created a ticking time bomb. Therapy helped me embrace the full spectrum of emotions — sadness, frustration, grief — without guilt. Accepting these feelings allowed me to rebuild, not by clinging to optimism but by expanding my perspective and healing.
Through this process, I discovered that vulnerability isn’t a weakness — it’s a strength. Sharing my struggles didn’t diminish my leadership; it made me more human and approachable. My openness fostered trust within the team, strengthening our relationships and making my leadership more authentic. Paradoxically, facing my darkest moments made me a better, wiser leader. I could empathize with my team, navigate their challenges, and see the bigger picture.
While I wouldn’t wish depression on anyone, I can honestly say it made me a better person. But do we need to hit rock bottom to learn these lessons? I don’t believe so. As leaders, we have a duty to take care of ourselves before we reach the breaking point. By prioritizing our mental health, we can show up not just as stronger leaders but as whole, balanced individuals.
As a founder, partner, father, and friend, I’ve learned the importance of self-care — not just for myself, but for the people who rely on me. For years, I believed my needs could wait, that putting others first was the right thing to do. But self-care isn’t selfish; it’s essential — and even a form of social responsibility. As a wise friend once reminded me: when a plane is crashing, you must put on your own oxygen mask first.
Therapy was my first step toward recovery, but it wasn’t the only one. Coaching, connecting with other founders in safe, supportive spaces, and leaning on my loved ones have also been transformative.
I love solving problems; it’s part of my character which led me down the entrepreneurial path. But sometimes the solution lies in admitting that I need help — and that’s okay. Seeking help doesn’t mean I’ve failed; it means I’m choosing to take care of myself. I want to encourage anyone struggling to take that first step, whether it’s seeing a therapist, joining a support group, or even confiding in a trusted friend.
Mental health is just as important as any other aspect of leadership, and the sooner we stop treating it as an afterthought, the better we can show up — not just as founders, but as whole, balanced human beings.
Today, I remain an optimist. I still deeply believe in my team, family, and future. But now, I also make space for every part of myself — the joy and the pain, the hope and the fear. Embracing this balance has made me stronger, and I hope that by sharing my journey, I can inspire others to find their way back to themselves, too.
Sincerely,
Javier
Untold is a collection of raw, personal stories from Endeavor founders, shedding light on the emotional challenges behind scaling a company, so other founders can better name the battles they’re facing, and find strength in the stories of those who’ve been there too.
The next Untold story will be released on Thursday, July 3rd.