Revenue Diaries Entry 30

I met Daniel years ago when I was at Lessonly, and after one conversation, I remember thinking: this guy’s got a story worth telling.

Now, he’s finally telling it. And it’s beautiful.

Daniel recently launched a Substack. He’s writing about his life, immigrating to the U.S., growing up in Battle Creek, MI, and building a dog food startup in Indianapolis. But this isn’t your typical tech content. It’s not productivity hacks or anything about AI. It’s something much rarer: honest storytelling.

What makes his writing special is how much of it is about other people, especially his parents. You want to understand the immigrant experience? Read about Daniel’s mom and dad:

“Most of the furniture in our apartment came from junk that people threw away. Mom and Dad would secretly watch out from our apartment window to see if there was anything useful we could bring home.”

“My dad worked so hard that he ended up manning two stations every day, even though he thought it would only be temporary.”

“Mom was learning English at a refugee program. We qualified for food stamps, which was so helpful for our family. She also worked at Thawng Hmung Garden. One day, she asked me to help her. I refused. She became very upset, saying, ‘We need this. We don’t have any money left.”

Daniel doesn’t write these moments for pity. He writes them with gratitude. He remembers his parents’ green Honda—the smell of it, the joy of finding friends at church, the pressure to audition for the jazz band even though he couldn’t read the music, and the long days his mom and dad worked to build something better for their family.

I don’t think this is as much about documenting his journey as preserving theirs.

And as if that wasn’t enough, Daniel is donating 50% of his Substack revenue to people in need in Chin State and refugee camps—the places he came from and hasn’t forgotten.

I’ve read a lot of Substacks, but very few make you feel like you’re sitting across from someone, hearing them say, "This is what it really felt like."

Daniel’s does.

If you want a break from the noise—and a reminder of how powerful a single story can be—start here at Daniel’s Substack.

It’ll stay with you.

❤️ kyle

On There’s No Substitute for Context

Six weeks. Sixteen flights. Three countries. Twenty dinners.
One crash course in becoming the CMO of a global (public) company.

Most executives onboard. I decided to on board. (Yes, I haven’t lost my creative flair.)

The past six weeks have been a blur of time zones, team meetings, and solo work crammed between flights, from our customer conference in Orlando, to dinners in Milan, to sunrises in Maui.

Here’s the itinerary:

• Week 1: Orlando for Inspire, our customer conference

• Week 2: Atlanta and Athens, GA, for team meetings

• Week 3: Back home to Indianapolis to catch my breath

• Week 4: London for LTUK and to meet EMEA customers

• Week 5: Milan and Biassono for internal planning and our board meeting

• Week 6: Maui for President’s Club

The punchline? It was exhausting. And 100% worth it.

Because when you’re new in a role (especially an executive one), there’s no substitute for context. And context comes faster when you show up in person.

Here’s what six weeks on the move taught me:

1. Nothing replaces face time

Slack is fast, and Zoom is functional, but trust moves faster in person. A hallway chat in London, a long dinner in Milan, a beachside coffee in Maui, these moments build relationships.

In-person doesn’t scale, but it compounds.

2. People want permission to simplify

When companies move fast, complexity creeps in. Layers build. Processes tangle. Alignment falters. I’ve heard this again and again: “Can we just make this easier?”

The best-performing teams reduce complexity. The real leadership unlock is giving your team permission to stop overengineering and start simplifying.

Clarity isn’t a luxury; it’s a must-have.

3. Leaders have to listen before they lead

It’s tempting to jump in with big ideas especially when you’re hired to drive change.
But teams don’t follow slide decks. They follow people who listen and understand the history, context, pain points, and progress that came before them.

Listening is leading. Especially at the beginning.

4. Your energy is your message

I fully support this message because culture isn’t a slide. It’s not a quote on the wall. It’s what people feel when you walk into a room.

And when you’re six flights in and running on fumes? That energy still speaks.

Are you present or distracted? Curious or defensive? Calm or frantic?

Because people notice, they always do.

In leadership, your energy becomes your message long before you send a single email. You set the temperature, model the culture, and show people what matters based on what you prioritize, how you show up, and the tone you carry, especially when it’s hard.

That’s not pressure. It’s a privilege. One I try to treat with care.

On Shipping Instead of Doubting

Morgan Brown recently posted this gem: “Too many people confuse planning with progress. They ship documents, not products.”

I think it’s worth sharing the entire message:

When in Doubt, Ship.

Stuck in office politics? Ship. Waiting for alignment? Ship. Not sure what to do next? Ship.

Shipping is the universal answer. It moves the conversation from abstract to concrete. From opinions to outcomes. From “we should” to “we did.”

In my first month at Meta, I got stuck in a swirl of meetings, docs, and debates on a concept that wasn't going anywhere. No decisions, just drift. So instead of scheduling another sync, we picked one small test: a simple backend holdout to measure the impact of gating a feature. No UX changes, just logic that changed how data flowed between client and server. And we shipped it.

It wasn’t a flashy change, but the results raised eyebrows. User behavior shifted dramatically. That one test brought clarity, broke the deadlock, and showed the team we could move. It taught me that momentum isn’t given, it’s created.

That single decision led to bigger swings, more trust, and ultimately my first promotion.

Too many people confuse planning with progress. They ship documents, not products.

The best way to create your own momentum is to pick something concrete, make it better, and ship it.

In strong teams shipping is cadence. In stuck teams it’s ignition.

Progress loves motion. But only when it ships.

When you step into a new role, especially in the first 90 days, there’s a huge temptation to wait. Wait for buy-in. Wait for the budget. Wait for someone to give you permission to move.

But momentum doesn’t show up on its own. You have to build it.

That’s why, at Docebo, we didn’t wait to kick off a brand overhaul. We didn’t hire a fancy agency. We didn’t sit in a room debating the “perfect” strategy.

We started shipping.

The tone, voice, and look and feel of our brand all need to evolve. So instead of waiting, we got to work, in-house, scrappy, and iterative.

We started with the most important thing: asking better questions. We sent this list to our exec team and are using it in customer conversations too:

• In your words, what is Docebo’s mission, and how do you describe what we do?

• What’s the #1 problem we solve, and why does it matter now?

• Where do we win? Where do we lose?

• What’s changing that we’re not talking about yet?

• What parts of our story just aren’t working anymore?

• If we nail this project, what feels different 6 months from now?

It’s not rocket science, it’s just action. And that’s the point.

In his post, Morgan shared how a tiny backend test at Meta broke a deadlock, moved the conversation forward, and created momentum. That’s how he earned trust, and eventually, a promotion.

Progress didn’t come from a strategy deck. It came from shipping.

So if you’re stuck, new to a role, or unsure where to start?

Pick something.
Ask better questions.
Make it better.
Ship it.

Then do it again next week.