Why I Chose Profitability Over Startup Funding

My story, and the story of my business, starts with my family. My dad passed away when I was six, leaving my mom to support us without a college degree. She took up cleaning houses because it offered the flexibility to raise my brother and me. We lived on food stamps in San Clemente, a beautiful Southern California beach town where it seemed like everyone else was jetting off to Hawaii for spring break. It was then I learned a hard lesson: money meant freedom. I was determined to build a life where my own family wouldn't have to worry about stretching a paycheck to cover new school shoes.

My mom later remarried a painter who ran his own small business. They both worked incredibly long hours for modest pay, living month to month with no savings. While other kids’ parents wore suits to corporate offices, mine came home splattered with paint and bleach. But they were their own bosses, independent and respected for their craft. They were the bedrock of the American economy, and their struggle planted the seed for what would become my company’s most powerful sales tool: storytelling.

The Power of a David vs. Goliath Story

Our business story was one of David versus Goliath, of the small business fighting for its place against corporate giants. In a world drowning in data—2.5 exabytes created daily—stories are how we make sense of it all. They cut through the noise. Instead of just listing features, you need to make your customers the heroes of a larger narrative.

Think about Apple’s classic slogan: “1,000 songs in your pocket.” It’s infinitely more powerful than saying, “An MP3 player with 5GB storage.” The first tells a story about what you can , while the second just describes a piece of hardware. This is the essence of a strong brand story, and it’s what we set out to build.

Our own narrative evolved over time. At first, we just explained what an iPhone app was and why a small business needed one. Then, we refined it to highlight how our technology made the process simple and affordable. We framed it as a choice: the hard, expensive way, or our easy, affordable way. You could build an app with us in a day for less than $50 a month, or you could hire a developer for up to $100,000.

But our breakthrough came when we focused on we were doing it. I drew from my childhood: we were helping people like my parents compete. Was it fair that Starbucks could afford a multimillion-dollar app while the local coffee shop couldn’t? We positioned our company as the great equalizer, giving small businesses a fighting chance. This was our story, and people—customers, my team, and our partners—bought into it emotionally. This narrative, a journey from a dorm room project to a real , was something people could connect with.

Getting the Story Out There

Having a great story is only half the battle; you have to tell it. We couldn’t afford PR agencies, so we did the grunt work ourselves. We relentlessly pitched every journalist we could find, from TechCrunch to Forbes. I tried to stand out, sending playful emails like, “Yo, what up, TechCrunch? I have the best pitch you’ll hear in your entire life.” It didn’t always work, but it got me noticed and helped build relationships.

Alongside press outreach, we launched a massive effort. We knew our target customers weren’t necessarily reading Forbes every morning, so we aimed to become the number-one search result for any question related to mobile marketing. We created blogs, videos, and ebooks that served the intention behind their searches. We became an authority, helping businesses even if they never became our customers. This strategy drove a steady stream of inbound traffic, turning our into a serious contender.

When Growth Becomes the Enemy

After about seven years, I was exhausted. The company was successful, but we were hitting a wall. We had captured the easy-to-win customers, and now acquiring new ones was getting more expensive. Our churn rate, though low at 2-3% per month, meant we had to replace up to 30% of our revenue every year. This is a common problem for any .

I was at a crossroads. I could keep chasing growth and sacrifice profits, raise venture capital and lose my autonomy, or rethink our entire strategy to grow sustainably. Like many founders in Silicon Valley, I explored seeking . I met with top VC firms on Sand Hill Road and even received a multimillion-dollar term sheet from a well-respected investor.

I turned it down. I called him and said, “Thanks, but I wouldn’t know what to do with all that money.”

Today, founders seem to celebrate funding rounds more than profits. But once you take that money, you’re on a treadmill of raising more and more—Series A, B, C—until your job is no longer about serving customers but about raising capital. I didn’t want a board of directors telling me what to do. I wanted to control my own destiny, and for me, that meant bootstrapping. Profitability is the ultimate freedom. It makes you smarter, more creative, and laser-focused on your customers, because they are your most sustainable source of funding.

The Move That Saved Our Profitability

With off the table, I had to find another way. The answer was to get out of San Francisco. The Bay Area is an incredible place, but it’s also insanely expensive. We couldn’t compete with Google and Facebook for top talent, and the high cost of living was draining our profitability. To build one of the that had grown into a full-fledged company, we needed a change of scenery.

I decided to move the company to San Diego. It was a bold move, and not everyone was happy. I learned a hard lesson in leadership: I should have had individual conversations to explain my reasoning instead of relying on employee surveys. I lost about 7% of my team, and I wish I’d handled the communication better.

But the results spoke for themselves. In San Diego:

• Our operational costs dropped by 14%.
• Our profitability soared by 21%.
• We hired world-class VPs we could never have attracted in San Francisco.
• We went from being an average place to work in the Bay Area to one of the best employers in San Diego, with a 10,000-square-foot office overlooking the ocean.

We had successfully transitioned from a growth-at-all-costs mindset to one of sustainable profitability. We were lean, focused, and putting money in the bank. But just as we were hitting our stride, a shadow fell over the business. Apple changed its developer guidelines, and overnight, our entire business model was at risk of becoming obsolete. The rug had been pulled out from under us, and I had no idea how to bring our company back from the brink.