When Funding Isn't Enough

There are moments as a founder that make you question everything. Moments that light a fire in you—not the kind that fuels motivation, but the kind that burns away the illusions you once held. This was one of those moments.

Months ago, I had a meeting that, at the time, felt like just another letdown. But lately, it’s been hanging on my mind more than ever.

Going into this, I already had reservations. I’ve always had a mixed view of accelerators—their structure, their approach, their actual impact. I’ve never been fully convinced they were the right fit for me. Yes, they offer value, but much of their programming revolves around teaching founders how to fail and navigate uncertainty. And when you’ve failed as many times as I have, you don’t need someone to teach you how to survive—you need the right ingredients and timing to make things work.

But in this specific case, Cathy had hyped me up and I was excited—genuinely excited—to meet with them as I had hoped would be a game-changer. A program that, at first glance, seems like it understood the real needs of early-stage, high-potential startups.

Now I should mention, I had previously met with this accelerator for a diferent venture about a year before but it wasn’t a fit for either party — and frankly that meeting had itself left a mixed taste in my mouth. But nonetheless, Canada has far too few accelerators that truly foster innovation, so when we landed this meeting, I thought maybe—just maybe—this would be different.

The conversation started well enough. They went through the usual spiel, their different program options and streams, their funding terms, the size of their network, their supposed ability to support companies through growth. We listened, engaged, and soaked it all in, holding onto hope that this would be a conversation worth having.

Then came the final question—the one that shattered it all.

“Do you have any questions?”

Yes. Yes, I did.

I asked what else they could provide beyond capital as I felt the conversation hovered around there a little bit too long and what was previously outlined had lacked some aspect of tangibility. And because, at the end of the day, funding is just one part of the equation. An accelerator worth joining in my opinion provides more than just a check—it provides strategic guidance, mentorship, deep industry connections, and real support to navigate product-market fit, iterate, pivot when needed, and scale effectively that is highly specific to the venture.

But that’s not what they had to offer.

The response? Frazzled. Hesitant. Then, finally: “Oh, well, when it comes time to potentially raise again or your Series A, we have a strong network that could help.”

That was it. That was the extent of what they believed they could bring to the table—or at least what they outlined to us. A pathway to more money. Not help with execution. Not hands-on support. Not a single mention of helping us become a better leader, building a strong team, or finding the right customers. Just another funding round as if that was already decided for us.

I sat there, stunned.

At that moment, I knew—this was not the place for us. Not even close.

Cathy and I have worked incredibly hard to build something meaningful, and we know what real guidance looks like. This? This was just another number-driven accelerator, another group that saw founders as a means to an end. Because here’s the hard truth: some accelerators aren’t about founders. They aren’t about building great companies. They’re about numbers. They want to pump money into as many startups as possible, not because they believe in the teams, but because they’re playing a volume game, hoping that a handful of them will make it through to the next round of funding. And if you don’t fit the mold of a cookie-cutter “investable” company? Good luck.

I walked away from that meeting disappointed, not just for myself but for every founder out there desperately looking for real support.

I was so disappointed that I cried after.

Something I never even told my co-founder.

But these weren’t tears of rejection. It wasn’t, “Oh, we won’t get in,” or “What do we do now?”

It was deeper than that. It was the crushing realization that what should have been a powerhouse in the Canadian innovation ecosystem had fallen into the same flawed thinking as so many others—believing that simply throwing money at a startup was enough to make it grow.

Like drowning a budding flower with too much water instead of nurturing it, strengthening its roots, and fostering real, sustainable growth.

The experience exposed a fundamental flaw in how some accelerators operate. They don’t focus on nurturing real businesses. They focus on making startups look good on paper for the next round. They see founders as assets to be optimized for fundraising rather than as people trying to build something meaningful.

This is not how an innovation ecosystem thrives. This is not how we create world-changing companies.

I need more. Founders need more. We need accelerators that actually accelerate—not just the fundraising process, but the development of founders, the refinement of ideas, and the execution of building a great company. We need programs that help founders find product-market fit, hire the right people, and establish a business that is sustainable on a founder level before pushing them to chase another round of funding.

If the only thing an accelerator can promise is introductions to investors down the line, then they’re not actually accelerating anything. They’re just passing the buck.

I left that meeting angry. Angry that I had been excited for it. Angry that people like this still hold influence in an ecosystem that desperately needs true leadership. But more than anything, I left with clarity. Clarity that not all accelerators are created equal. Clarity that I must be just as diligent in choosing the programs I engage with as I am in choosing my co-founders, employees, and investors.

Because if an accelerator can’t help me build, they have no business calling themselves one.