Our Ancestors’ Wildest Dreams: What Really Happened the Night I Took the Stage and Won The Pitch
It’s funny how quiet it feels before your name is called.
The lights dim.
The room hushes.
And then you see a face from another lifetime. A father lost to war, smiling gently.
“You’ve got this,” he seemed to say.
That’s how my pitch night began.
But this wasn’t just about a business.
It was about finally saying:
We exist. We create. We feel.
We are more than the number zero.
This is the story of that night.