Pain is a great teacher. Maybe that’s too harsh a word. Let’s call it discomfort.
Many of us carry the urge to solve problems we don’t yet have. It's a quiet burden. It sounds ambitious, but it often complicates what’s already in front of us. It happens in business. It happens in relationships.
When my wife and I were discussing marriage, we didn’t know where we would live. She’s Nigerian, I’m Ghanaian. She wasn’t thrilled about moving to Ghana, and I wasn’t exactly volunteering to move either. Everyone expected a decision, and were surprised when we simply said, “We don’t know yet.” Eventually, we figured it out—just in time. Any premature attempt would have taken an unnecessary toll on us.
That time, I got it right.
Where I failed miserably was in starting my company, Oxegene.
Too often, I looked at firms far ahead of me and tried to mirror them—forgetting I didn’t yet share their needs or constraints. It cost me time and energy chasing an image I didn’t need. Worse, it blinded me to what actually mattered. Pretending to be a “big company” made me speak and act like one, and that cost me clients I genuinely needed to grow. I said no to opportunities I should have said yes to, all in the attempt to be mentally consistent.
If I were to summarise the lesson, it would be this: think big, act your size.
On second thought, that sounds like bad advice—but stay with me.
There’s a demand for every stage of growth. If you’re running a two-person company, there are things you can’t do, like win a million-dollar contract alone. But there are things you can do—leverage your small size to move faster, stay personal, and speak plainly.
You can fake scale on social media, or package, like we'll say in Accra – but when a client asks for your tax documents, board structure, or three-year audited accounts, the illusion collapses.
This isn’t an argument against imagination, vision or preparation. It’s about being honest with your stage and focusing on the next feasible step.
That’s where pain comes in.
Growth announces itself as discomfort—the feeling that your current setup is no longer enough. That’s the signal to expand.
When your team is stretched, it’s time to hire. But not before.
When you lose a project because you’re not tax-compliant, it’s time to fix that.
When your old systems start breaking, that’s the cue for the next level.
There’s a certain productivity in waiting until your current shoes pinch before buying a new pair.
Why? Because new levels come with new demons. If you rush in without the capacity to handle them, they’ll crush you.
That’s why premature scaling—big offices, inflated teams, overbuilt brands—burns so many founders. Few truly succeed at the “fake it till you make it” game. If you’re one of the few, good for you, ignore this. But for the rest of us, progress works best in steps.
The pain is your teacher. It tells you what to fix next.
Today, most of my work involves constraining clients who want to move too fast. It feels ironic, because I love big ideas and bold moves. But big doesn’t mean reckless. Without a strategy, clear destination, or philosophy of choice, constraints come from fear.
With a strategy, constraints become strength.
And yes—constraints are painful.
But that pain is where the real growth begins.