What Building a Company Taught Me About Fatherhood

When people ask me about my first child, I sometimes joke that he wasn’t born in a hospital and he didn’t carry my last name. I learned my first parenting lessons in a tiny office — dealing with constant stress, sleepless nights and the knowledge that other people’s lives depended on my decisions.

Like a parent, you try to steer your company away from mistakes. You stay awake at night trying to solve problems. You sacrifice time, comfort and stability. You learn responsibility faster and realize you’re still growing, too.

When I actually became a parent a few years ago, those feelings came flooding back. It reminded me of the early days as a start-up entrepreneur. Staying up late to troubleshoot uncooperative code is pretty good practice for trying to figure out why your newborn is crying at 2:00 a.m. Watching your toddler wave goodbye on their first day of preschool has a lot in common with launching a company — suddenly, your baby belongs to the rest of the world, too.

Business and fatherhood are surprisingly similar. In both, you are building something greater than yourself. In both, perfection is impossible. You constantly make mistakes, learn and try to become better.

There’s no doubt these experiences made me a better parent. But the most important thing that starting a business taught me is that I didn’t know what I didn’t know. The only way to figure it out was to take the first step. Parenting proved to be the same. One of those lessons is this: Business will always demand more of your time, energy and resources. But children demand something greater. They demand the real you — here and now.

They want time to tell you a story about their day or explain their latest fingerpainting masterpiece. They want you to give a five-star review of the imaginary tea at their tea party. They want you to read them the same bedtime book for the billionth time, even though they know how it ends. It’s not about efficiency or obvious returns on your efforts. It’s just about being there. You can’t optimize or innovate those essentials.

They teach you patience where you are used to speed. They teach you to live in the moment when you are used to living in the future. They teach you to listen, not just to make decisions. Every single day, they remind you that the most important things in life can never be measured. It’s the legacy you’re leaving behind for them.

When I started my company, the idea of legacy was abstract. I wanted to succeed, and figured that if I did, the rest would fall into place. Now, I can see how every decision I made influenced the way my children would grow up.

I often think about how my sons find it perfectly normal to fall asleep on airplanes. They think long flights are just a part of everyday life. When I was growing up in Soviet Ukraine, the world was only what I could see outside my window. To them, it’s endless. In just a generation, our family’s story has changed. I’m proud I could give them that — but it isn’t enough.

Building a company and raising children are far more alike than they seem. In both cases, you are trying to create something that one day will be able to live without you. Both demand your full focus and presence. But the second you have both, it’s obvious which one is your legacy.

The only thing is that your kids are the most important asset you’ll ever have. They should always stay your number one priority. And if your kid asks you to play for 15 minutes, you’d better stand and play with them. Meetings, committees and projects can wait, but these 15 minutes may not happen again, never ever.