Hot Tears, Big Dreams, and a Fresh Start

Starting something new is hard, but starting over after a long break feels even harder.

When I launched Setovilla in 2021, fresh out of university, I was full of big ideas and endless energy. I dreamed of changing the world—one hibiscus flower at a time—while also shaping a brighter future for children through education. What I didn’t realize was that I had taken on two challenges: running a food business and building a charity. Like many first-time founders, I started with a sense of invincibility. I imagined my dreams unfolding exactly as planned, fueled by confidence and passion. But the reality of entrepreneurship was humbling. 

The first campaign we ran—a fundraiser that raised over £1,000 to provide 25 educational kits for children in Glasgow—was a success on paper. But the feedback afterward revealed a deeper truth: systemic barriers, not just educational resources, often stand in the way of children embracing education. A book, toy, or bag alone was nice but not enough to change their futures.

On the food business side, the challenges were just as tough. Sales were slower than I expected, and I struggled with the confidence needed to market Setovilla’s hibiscus infusion, ọkọ̀. One moment stands out vividly: I visited a stockist to collect proceeds from our hibiscus drinks, and they bluntly told me, “No one cares about the social impact of Setovilla.” The comment stung, and I left quickly, heading to Glasgow Botanic Gardens, where I let the hot premium tears flow. Sitting there, I realized something important: the biggest roadblock to my dreams wasn’t external—it was internal. My self-esteem, my rigid definition of success, and my fear of failure were holding me back.

It’s ironic, isn’t it? The founder of a business created to help children redefine success was struggling to do the same for herself. Despite moments of progress, I felt unprepared to lead a team or run a business. After one year, I made the difficult decision to step away. Letting go of a team of dedicated volunteers who had poured their evenings and weekends into this vision was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done.

In the years that followed, I’ve spent a lot of time reflecting—on my childhood, my fears, and the perfectionism that weighed me down. Growth didn’t come from a sudden epiphany but through small moments of learning. I’ve learned to see vulnerability as a strength and approach challenges with an open heart. The world, meanwhile, has only reinforced why Setovilla’s mission matters. Systemic inequalities, selfish governance, and geopolitical conflicts continue to rob children of their futures. Through it all, one thing has remained constant: my belief in Setovilla’s vision to create impact—not just for others but now, even for myself as well.

So here we are—starting over. I’m still emotional and probably always will be, but now I face the road ahead with resilience and a few key lessons:

• Nobody owes you anything.
• Less is more.
• Emotional regulation is essential.
• You can’t pour from an empty cup.
• Absurd dreams are valid.

This isn’t a “perspire to aspire” post. It’s a moment of gratitude—for everyone who has supported Setovilla, even after the break. Thanks to you, we’ve sold out our first batch of ọkọ̀ 2.0 and are working hard to restock. As we move forward, I’ll continue to share both the challenges and the celebrations of this journey. Together, we’re just getting started. Thank you for being part of this story.