On hitting 30, butterfly wings and serendipity
Getting on my 30s got me.
Note: pictures illustrating this are a random selection from my Facebook account. Impossible to include (and describe) everything.
A friend asked me: what is the key takeaway from your 20s?
It’s been a journey home. A tale about going the distance to find your truth within. There and back again, like Bilbo Baggins’ book. But also, on how something small can change the course of life — the flapping wings of a butterfly that cause a tornado. Every seed you plant, every small decision matters. And how a strong core helps you dance (or surf) with grace.
In retrospect, it’s a great exercise to walk back, review the steps that brought me here and understand where, in the journey, I grew wiser, braver, stronger. Whatever you become, it’s who you’re meant to be and you should honor every version of you — and every decision that brought you here, today.
In practice, and in retrospect, the path from my 20s to 30s was filled with:
- Flights
- 3 blown up apartments, Tyler Durden style (metaphorically, of course: when you let go to find truth);
- Getting inspired by great people who were my first leaders, team, and friends, setting high standards about what human interaction should be;
- Doing things I never thought I’d do. Starting a business, surfing, dropping off college, leading AIESEC in Southern Cone, etc;
- Soap opera-like love stories, some heartbreaks and here we are.
I bet my 20-year-old self would be mind blown to see herself, now.
I’m writing by the bay window of this cozy green-walled room in San Francisco — home for now. I spent the day on a road trip to Napa Valley, blessed with a stark blue sky and mustard flowers painting way. Last minute plan. We had a cozy, private wine tasting session with old and new friends from different countries.
In the end, it’s all about the people in my life. On my Facebook wall, on my Whatsapp notifications, in my heart. They’re all over the world. People I’d never imagine existed, 10 years ago.
A life I wouldn’t imagine myself living (see, I’m from a 40k people small town in Brazil, we had no startups there in 1989).
10 years ago, I started my 20s heartbroken and halfway through my — never to be completed — Law degree. And I became VP Talent Management for a local NGO, thanks to Tati Minardi, who saw in me talents I’d never seen. I went from a Constitutional Law nerd who’d join several UN Models to one who designed team building agendas and activities to guide people’s personal development journey. And massive recruitments, training and onboarding events.
Had Tati never chosen me for that role, things wouldn’t have been the same.
The flap of a butterfly wing which can change the course of things.
First Flight: Belo Horizonte > World
Within a year, that road led me to leave my pretty apartment in BH to never come back — but I wasn’t aware of it by then.
My first time living abroad. I flew to Mauritius where I’d spend 3 sleepless months coordinating recruitments and expansion for AIESEC in 3 Universities. Humid weather, spicy food, tropical landscapes riding a battered bus. From tropical rains, I flew to face the sharp cold winds of Buenos Aires, when Ale Badillo selected me VP Talent Management for Southern Cone (Argentina, Chile, Uruguay). From there, in a moment of inspiration, I decided to apply for President next year. I knew that, if elected, I’d drop off college. They’d kick me out if I didn’t go back. I remember talking on the phone with my parents, whose support was constant besides their preference to have me at one of Brazil’s top Universities. And people did elect me. And the University did kick me out. I was 22, on a mission to provide life-changing experiences to 1200+ volunteers across 3 countries. But — definitely, life-changing — experience didn’t go as expected.
In our first week, politics and power fights greeted us in our office. I expected to focus on growth, but instead we had to deal with a fragmented organization. Gossip and passive aggression had taken over discussions about a positive impact. The only way out was to face it, be vulnerable and host difficult conversations. Man, how we grew fast that year, both as individuals and as an organization. My team still shares a WhatsApp group and the dream to meet again one day (although we’re from 6 different countries).
After finishing my term, I was looking for what to do and startups happened. I joined NXTP Labs — one of the first “YC-like” accelerators in Latam. It was a fluke that I started the Startup Grind in Buenos Aires — when we were less than 30 chapters in the world. And I did other stuff, like organizing the a 100% online conference for startups in Latam, 80 speakers, thousands of attendees, etc.
It was fun.
I had no idea all that stuff was “community building” until I landed in Kuala Lumpur, but that’s the next chapter.
Second Flight: Buenos Aires > Kuala Lumpur
In 2014 I moved to Malaysia. Buenos Aires felt like “Summertime and the livin’ is easy” when I felt I had to go.
I planned to stay for a year. I stayed four. The reasons why I moved to Malaysia aren’t the reasons why I stayed. I left Buenos Aires to work for a company due to its organizational culture practices. I left that job in 3 months to focus full time in community building both at the local level and global, as I joined the HQ of Startup Grind to grow local chapters across Africa and APAC. In 6 months, I joined the Malaysian Government thanks to Cheryl Yeoh, then CEO of the Malaysian Global Innovation and Creativity Centre (MaGIC). Within 4 years, I became a dot in the Southeast Asia startup community, started several communities (through Startup Grind, More Girls, Secret Dinners, etc) and sparked others.
And to my 20-year-old version surprise, I started a company. With all rights and wrongs — 8spaces managed to live and prosper as part of FlySpaces, which success makes me feel accomplished.
Malaysia gave me love and pain to help me grow. The very people who once inspired me were the ones who’d broken me harder than anyone ever did. Me too. From the outside, you can’t see why had my hair cut short, gained weight and fell on a spiral of bad business decisions — fear-driven, separating myself, following traumatic interactions that I wouldn’t process until the #metoo movement came about 2 years later. Then I understood it wasn’t about me. While I’m still not ready to talk about it, it made me wiser.
Amidst the wind whirl of great and challenging experiences, Malaysia defined me as a community builder and gave me room to grow. And we grew together. Until I felt it was time to go again.
Third Flight: Kuala Lumpur > Homeless on Purpose
Call it “return of Saturn” or “quarter-life-crisis” when I left KL on a journey to find “home”. I let go of everything I loved and owned in KL to be “homeless on purpose”.
Home meant to re-connect with my inner child. The things I held close to my heart but had fallen apart in the adulting process. Like writing (anything, prose, fiction, poetry, whatever). In 2018 I went to Brazil more than I’d done 10 years before, spent more time with family and finished reading all Harry Potter (yes, that matters).
On the road, the Startup Genome team invited me to consolidate my learnings as their Community Development Director, while I continue writing and consulting on behalf of Hacking Communities.
Also on the road, life invited me to reconcile with that first heartbreak from 2009, back when this journey started. Life allows you to forgive and heal if you want to. And going back is often necessary to reset and make it better.
Most importantly, this road is taking me home; a quieter place inside where you find things that deeply matter to yourself.
Now: San Francisco
From now on?
I got a swallow tattooed on my left arm to remind it’s possible to fly the world and have a home at the same time. A butterfly inked on the other arm reminds me: life is short, make the best use of your time to pollinate and spread good things around.
And also that the Universe can change at the flap of your wings.
Now it’s time to continue. To persist and commit. While in the past 10 years I learned (too well) to let go, to fly, the next 10 I want to feel good at home. That means to learn commitment as an avenue to learn, not more, but deeper.
That 20-year-old had no idea she’d be sitting on her desk under this Bay window, revisiting her journey around the world. But I bet she’d be glad to hear. And I wish I’ll be glad to hear what my 40-year-old self is up to. About that, I expect to be as clueless as I was, 10 years ago. But I do expect to keep growing in love for myself — and for others. All we can do is trust while taking steps to make wise, love-driven, brave and wholehearted decisions that lead to a ton of serendipity.
May the force be with us all!
Love,
Laís
