Lauren: “So, you understand, right? It’s not personal. Daniel’s family is just… they’re very particular. His mom keeps talking about how elegant everything needs to be. Target clothes and startup stress just wouldn’t fit the vibe.”
I stared at that message.
Target clothes, Lauren.
Plus, Mom said, “You’ve been so busy with work, you probably don’t have time anyway. This way, you don’t have to feel obligated.”
Me: “Okay.”
Lauren: “Thanks for being cool about this. I knew you’d get it. I’ll send you pics.”
I sat in my corner office on the 52nd floor of downtown Chicago, overlooking Lake Michigan, and tried to remember the last time Lauren had asked me a single question about my work.
Let me paint the picture.
I’m Emma Chin, 34 years old, founder and CEO of Catalyst Financial Technologies. We’re a fintech company specializing in algorithmic trading platforms for institutional investors.
Current valuation: $3.2 billion.
Revenue last year: $480 million.
Employees: 650 across four countries.
I started Catalyst seven years ago in my studio apartment with $22,000 in savings and an algorithm I’d been developing since grad school at MIT.
My family’s reaction?
“That’s nice, honey. When are you going to get a real job?”
Lauren is two years older. She married Daniel Whitmore three years ago. Daniel’s a corporate attorney at his father’s firm, Whitmore, Whitmore and Associates. Very old money.
His mother, Victoria Whitmore, sits on museum boards and charity committees. Their family has a wing named after them at Northwestern.
Lauren became exactly what Victoria wanted: polished, proper, pregnant with her first grandchild.
Me?
I was the embarrassment.
At Lauren’s wedding, Victoria had introduced me to her friends as “the other daughter, the one who’s trying to start some little computer business.”
At Thanksgiving last year, Daniel’s father asked what I did. Before I could answer, Lauren jumped in.
“Amazon tech. She’s still figuring things out.”
I had just closed a $180 million Series C funding round. Forbes had called me for an interview.
I’d said nothing because I’d learned something important.
My family didn’t need to know.
They decided who I was when I dropped out of my finance job at Goldman Sachs to start Catalyst.
“You’re throwing away a six-figure salary for a pipe dream,” Dad had said. “You’ll be back begging for your old job within a year.”
That was seven years ago.
I hadn’t been back.
The thing about building a company in silence is that you get very good at compartmentalizing.
At family dinners, I nodded while Lauren talked about Daniel’s latest case and their country club membership. I smiled while Mom bragged about Lauren’s interior decorator and their home renovation. I listened while Dad explained how Daniel was really going places at the firm.
And then I went back to work and built an empire.
Catalyst’s first client was a midsized hedge fund willing to try anything to improve their algorithmic trading efficiency. Our platform increased their returns by 23% in the first quarter.
