I was Contxto.
If you asked Victor Cortés who he was a year ago, perhaps the first and only thing he would have answered was “Founder and CEO of Contxto,” as if there was nothing in me other than my company.
A year later, Contxto is no longer an active part of my life. Of course, it is my past, and of course it defined me as a person in a great way. But if a year ago I did not imagine my life without Contxto, today I am here complete and still with a future ahead.
The reason why Contxto closed I have not yet discussed openly. And certainly, it was not a specific reason, but rather the combination of multiple variables.
Some of these include a very conflictive and difficult corporate governance; a team so committed that the high demand for work burned them out, which in turn led them to leave the company one by one; few resources, and a very delicate personal mental health that only deepened with the sudden death of my father a week before closing the company.
I will elaborate on this eventually.
After Contxto paused, people told me, “do it again, now you know how.” To which I replied, “I can’t. It was too difficult, and I doubt I could do it again out of nothing. And above all I doubt that I can go through the same process of mental suffering.”
Today I have Tracción, a podcast that I launched as a side-hustle, which in its first month of launch has the same listeners that Contxto had before closing.
This week I published a tweet and post on LinkedIn that received more than 600 comments from people interested in joining the community I was creating, also unexpectedly — something that in Contxto I never pulled off.
This week I also shared a post that I wrote as a hobby on my newly launched personal blog that received the same number of visits from social media traffic that a Contxto post received on an average day.
Now that I see it, although the cessation of my company still hurts, I think it was the best thing that could have happened to me.
I was losing myself in Contxto, and Victor didn’t feel like a complete person without his startup.
I learned to prioritize other things in my life that I usually thought of as “distractions only.” Those were the things that kept me from hitting rock bottom when things fell apart.
I learned that perspective is everything, and that a problem is minuscule when you actually zoom out of it and look at the bigger picture.
I learned to love a project and leave everything in the ring, knowing that there is more than just an athlete in the locker room.
There is always more.