How I Freed Myself From a Toxic Co-Founder (And Why I’m Building Solo Now)

Back in 2020, I was a fresh graduate looking for a job, trying to find footing in a world that was still half-frozen by a pandemic. Like many first-time founders, I didn’t yet know what I was capable of—just that I wanted to build something meaningful.

And then he messaged me. It was shortly after my pitch at Shesnnovation gala. You know, the one where I was shoved into a tiny room with a camera and was supposed to pitch without my notes.

You know the type:

• “Industry veteran”

• “Serial entrepreneur”

• “Extensive network”

• Buzzwords for days

He slid into my LinkedIn DMs with polished promises and startup lingo that, back then, sounded impressive. I was green, ambitious, and vulnerable to the idea that a co-founder could make me credible.

Everyone around me was saying the same thing:

“You need someone to complement your skills.”

“Solo founders don’t get funded.”

“Don’t try to do it all alone.”

So I listened. I partnered up. And I paid the price.

A Shiny Title Hiding a Messy Reality

At first, it looked legit. He had “executive” in his title, a profile full of confident claims, and stories about past ventures and investor meetings.

But behind the scenes, the cracks showed fast:

• Sloppy spelling in investor emails

• A complete inability to build or contribute to product

• Constant power plays in conversations

• Unchecked ego masking a deep lack of execution

It was like Elon Musk energy—but with zero substance or results. Just the arrogance. You see, I used to be a fan of Elon. I've read his first biography and somehow a bullied child from South Africa who only dreamt about making the world a better place, resonated with me. Right now, I admire him slightly less, especially when I found out that he is not actually a founder of Tesla, he just stole it from people who actually came up with the idea. Nevertheless, he still has achievements, wealth and fame, so plenty of reasons to be arrogant. My now ex co-founder had none of it, yet he still was full of himself.

While I poured my heart into building, he seemed more interested in optics. While I stayed up late coding, designing, writing decks—he was busy writing LinkedIn posts about our “progress.”

At some point, I realized:

I wasn’t building a startup—I was managing someone else’s insecurities.

The Cost of Doubting Myself

Why did I stay?

Because I thought I had to.

Because the startup ecosystem worships the idea of the "power duo." Because I didn’t believe I was enough—yet.

But it came at a cost. Over 1 million PLN, months of lost momentum, and an emotional toll that can’t be measured. I spent years doubting my own power, thinking that it is my fault that we failed.

I didn’t just lose money. I lost trust. Trust in others. Trust in my own judgment. Trust in the process.

That’s when things got even more tangled:

We entered a long, painful legal phase that dragged on for years.

The partnership had to be undone formally. Equity split. Contracts rewritten. Papers signed. Lawyers involved.T here were months when I couldn’t even touch the product I had built because of the looming legal mess behind it. You can read all about that conflict in my previous blog post.

And yet—I stayed quiet .I kept building quietly. And I waited. To be honest, I don't know how it is possible that I surrvived that time.

Today, I Am Free.

It’s done.

The last document is signed. The final call has ended. And for the first time in years, I can say this fully:

I am no longer tied to a person who did not respect the vision, the work, or the product. I am no longer legally bound to a broken partnership. I am finally building again—as myself.

It feels like a burden has been lifted from my shoulders. Like I am completely different person.

The Truth About Solo Founding

People still act like being a solo founder is a fallback. Like you’re only solo because no one wanted to build with you. It is kind of like when you've decided that you don't want to be in a relationship because you've realized that single life is exactly for you. People think that you made this decision not out your own joy and contentment but because nobody wanted you.

But here’s what I know now:

✨ Being solo is clarity.

✨ Being solo is creative control.

✨ Being solo is not having to explain or justify your decisions to someone who doesn’t get it.

Is it slower sometimes? Yes. But better slow and sovereign than fast and toxic.

Red Flags I Now Never Ignore

If you’re early in your founder journey and considering a partnership—please, learn from me. You will spare yourself from drama, broken startups and loosing money.

Here are some of the red flags I ignored (but won’t ever again):

🚩 Profiles full of buzzwords but no real outcomes.

🚩 “Serial entrepreneurs” with no real exits

🚩 Anyone who over-promises and under-delivers—consistently

🚩 People who make you feel small to make themselves look big

🚩 Lack of basic communication skills (yes, even spelling matters)

🚩 Constant talk about “vision” without action

But the biggest one?

🚩 When your gut says “this feels off”—but your fear says “say yes anyway.”

Listen to your gut. It’s wiser than you think.

To Anyone Else Choosing Independence

If you’ve ever walked away from a co-founder, an investor, or a team member who didn’t align with your values—you are not difficult.

You are disciplined about your vision.

And if you’re still building, still dreaming, still healing from a messy split—here’s your reminder:

• You’re not behind

• You’re not crazy

• And you’re definitely not alone

I’m building solo. Not because I couldn’t find someone. But because I finally trust my own voice first. And who knows maybe one day I will build with other people but I trust there will be the right people.

What I’m Building Now

These days, I’m focused on Heart Renew—a self-dating app that helps people reconnect with themselves, reflect on their journey, and nurture inner intimacy.

It’s not just a product. It’s a reclamation. Of autonomy. Of clarity. Of self-worth.

If you’re curious about it or want to follow along, you can read more here. And if you’ve been through a co-founder breakup, I’d love to hear your story too.

Not a Failure—Just a Lesson (An Expensive One)

The co-founder wasn’t the problem. Me doubting myself was.

But that’s changed now. I’m no longer building from fear—I’m building from truth.

To anyone out there still cleaning up the mess someone else left behind—Keep going.The freedom you’re fighting for is on its way.

And when it comes?

You’ll know.