Hungry for Different

This week, I found myself surrounded by some incredibly hungry people.

It was a week of back-to-back events. On Tuesday, I was at my second investors' night with BeAngels. On Wednesday, a last-minute ticket took me to Tectonic in Ghent, where thirty startups took the stage after being selected from more than 380 applicants. I knew the level would be good. I didn't expect to spend the whole day so fascinated by what people were building.

Quidditas, a Belgian team, is developing a genome-editing platform that could help treat genetic diseases. Daidalos, an Italian startup, designs AI chips that use so little power they can operate in space. AGICU, from Germany, has built a hydrogen-hybrid robot that farms fields on its own. And Paldo, which won the €300,000 investment, is building AI that predicts companies' next moves by analyzing public signals.

I love these kinds of events. You walk in thinking you know your world, then meet founders working on things you'd never have imagined. Your curiosity takes over, and you discover entire worlds you didn't even know existed.

The next day, I went to an event organized by Alexandra Templeton, my favorite coach at ANIMO, my gym. She's building her own business around what she genuinely loves: retreats, community events, and YouTube videos for people navigating a new life in Belgium. Bringing people together and creating experiences.

On paper, she and those founders have very little in common. Different industries, different scales, different ways of building. But there was something familiar about all of them: the drive, the curiosity, the desire to create something that didn't exist before.

And somewhere in the middle of it, I recognized that same hunger in myself.

I've always loved social events. I'm usually the talkative one, happy to walk up to anyone, shake hands, and introduce myself. It wasn't always like that, though. It took years of practice to get comfortable (remember, I'm an extroverted introvert). I love the energy in the moment, even if I'm usually drained afterward.

After three events in three days, I should have been exhausted. Instead, I came home energized and full of ideas. I'd spent time around people who were building things, and it made me want to build things too.

I think that's one of the most interesting things about ambition: you can be driven on your own, but being around driven people makes that drive grow. Their hunger feeds yours. Sometimes you leave a room feeling like there's so much more you could do than you thought.

On Monday, I asked you how you define ambition. The answers I've been hearing are surprisingly different: money and status, freedom, the impact you have on others, simply finding happiness.

This week, a sales director gave me my favorite answer so far: making money and having a positive impact on others. Both. I liked that he didn't try to separate the two, and that he said money first. We talk easily about purpose and impact, but we're still a little uncomfortable admitting that financial success is part of what drives us.

Someone else, a Head of Sales, told me they were tired of leading teams and wanted to go back to doing the work, but worried about what people would think. It made me realize how much our idea of ambition is shaped by expectations. We associate it with progression: more responsibility, a bigger title, a larger team, a higher salary. So when someone wants something different, we often see it as a step backward.

But what if ambition isn't about moving up? What if it's about moving toward something more meaningful?

By definition, ambition is "a strong desire to do or achieve something." What I love about that definition is that it doesn't tell you what. It doesn't say a title, a salary or a corner office. It's a drive toward a goal, an idea, a possibility.

But a drive needs direction. You can't be hungry for everything without knowing what you're actually looking for. And if you don't define what ambition means to you, it's easy to adopt someone else's definition of success.

For a long time, my direction was clear. I wanted to build a career, build a company, lead a team, and have an impact. And I did. Twelve years at AppTweak, from first employee to CRO - moving to San Francisco, building a commercial organization across three continents, and learning more than I could have imagined.

I was ambitious throughout that journey. I still am.

But I think what we're hungry for evolves with each chapter. When you're younger, it might be recognition, money, or the chance to prove yourself. After years of doing that, you might become hungrier for freedom, exploration, or the opportunity to build something of your own. You can still want to achieve a lot. The way you want to achieve it changes.

That's where I am today.

When I left AppTweak, I lost the title, the team and the paycheck. But I didn't lose the drive to build, learn, or have an impact. If anything, I'm discovering how much of that drive existed outside the structure I'd built around it.

Right now, I want to meet people, support startups, help them scale, explore new projects, and understand how businesses are being built, including how AI is changing them. I want something that continues to stimulate me intellectually, challenges me, and lets me build again.

But I also want a life that makes room for other things. My health. My loved ones. The family we want to start. I want to make enough money to live comfortably, save for the future, and treat my wife (I know you're reading). I want to have an impact without organizing my entire life around work.

For a long time, my ambition was largely defined by what I was building professionally. Now, it's less about chasing everything at once, and more about finding the right balance - knowing what matters most in this season, and giving each part of my life the place it deserves.

I don't have that balance figured out yet. I'm exploring opportunities, meeting people, and figuring out what I want this next chapter to look like. For now, I'm enjoying the process - and I feel lucky to get to experience it.

Being around so many hungry people this week reminded me that ambition doesn't disappear when you reach a certain level, or when you leave something you've spent years building. It changes shape. You can still be driven, curious and eager to create, even when you're no longer pursuing the same goals.

We spend a lot of time defining what we want to achieve, and much less asking why, or whether that definition still fits the life we're building. It's worth asking whether we're doing it for ourselves, or because we've learned to measure success through other people's expectations.

Ambition should be personal. Not about proving something to others, but about building a life that feels right to you. That doesn't mean wanting less. It means being honest about what matters most right now, and allowing that to change.

Perhaps the most interesting part isn't figuring out how to achieve more, but understanding what we're actually hungry for.

I'm hungrier than I've been in years. I'm just hungry for different.

What are you actually hungry for today - and is it still the same ambition you had a few years ago?

See you next Friday, -Laurie 🤍