Growth, Motherhood, and Letting Go: What I’m Learning as a Founder

There is a moment I come back to often.

Laptop open.
A list of things that need to be done.
Messages unanswered. Orders pending. Decisions waiting.

And a baby that doesn’t care about any of it.

That’s when I realized:
I cannot build this business the way I used to anymore.

Not because I don’t want to.
But because life changed — completely.

The Myth of Balance

People talk a lot about balance.

Work-life balance.
Motherhood balance.
Entrepreneurship balance.

I’m not sure it exists.

Some days, the business moves forward and everything else waits.
Other days, my child needs me and the business slows down.

And most days, it’s a mix of both — messy, unfinished, imperfect.

What I’ve learned is this:
it’s not about balance. It’s about constant adjustment.

When Growth Meets Motherhood

TINKU is not at the beginning anymore.

We are growing.
More production, more customers, more complexity.
More responsibility — not only for the business, but for the people behind it.

At the same time, I became a mother.

And these two things don’t happen one after the other.
They happen at the same time.

That creates tension.

Because growth demands more structure, more decisions, more presence.
And motherhood demands… everything.

The Hardest Part: Letting Go

Before, I did a lot by myself.
Product development, finance, sales, markets, communication — I knew every detail.

Operations and logistics, however, have always been led by my co-founder and brother, Gonzalo.

And if I’m honest — I liked that.

Now, that doesn’t work anymore.

Not because I suddenly became better at delegating.
But because I had no choice.

Letting go is uncomfortable.
It feels risky.
It feels like things won’t be done the same way.

And they won’t.

But that’s exactly the point.

If everything depends on you, nothing can grow.

Building a Team — and Trust

We are slowly building a team.

Not a big one.
But one that matters.

Learning to communicate clearly.
Accepting that others bring their own way of doing things.
Understanding that trust is not automatic — it’s built.

One very concrete moment of this shift:
My brother came to Germany to support sales.

Because I couldn’t do it anymore.
And also — because I realized I don’t want to do it in the same way.

That decision was not only practical.
It was emotional.

Mental Load, Guilt, and Reality

There is something people don’t talk about enough.

The mental load.

Not just doing things — but holding everything in your head:

the business,
the production,
the finances,
the baby,
the house,
the future.

And then there is guilt.

Am I doing enough for my child?
Am I doing enough for the business?
Am I doing anything well?

These questions don’t have clear answers.

What helped me was not solving them —
but accepting that they exist, and even being grateful for them.
In a strange way, they push me to become a better mother and a better entrepreneur.
They remind me that I’m not choosing one over the other — I’m choosing to hold both.
And I’m grateful to have the possibility to care for my child, while also using my mind, building something, and serving a purpose beyond myself.

Why This Was Always Part of TINKU

In a way, this is not new.

From the very beginning, it was important for us to create work that includes mothers.
In Bolivia, like in many parts of Latin America, women still face significant challenges — and financial dependency is often one of the factors that can limit their autonomy and safety.

Many of the women we work with in Bolivia are mothers.

They don’t have the option to separate work and family.
They need flexibility.
They need to earn — and care at the same time.

That reality shaped TINKU long before I became a mother myself.

Now, I feel it differently.

More personally.
More urgently.

A Dream That Became Clearer

We have a dream.

To build a place in Bolivia where mothers can come to work —
and their children are cared for at the same time.

A place that is safe, flexible, and dignified.
Where work adapts to life — not the other way around.

Where a mother can decide how much she works.
Without choosing between income and care.

And honestly —
why not also in Germany?

Germany, Bolivia — and the Gaps in Between

Germany has systems.

Parental leave. Childcare structures. Support programs.

And still — it’s not simple.

Access is limited. Waiting lists are long.
Flexibility is often missing.

Bolivia has fewer formal systems.
But strong informal ones — family, community, shared care.

And still — many mothers are left without real support.

Different systems.
Same challenge.

Motherhood and work are still not designed to coexist easily.

What Support Really Looks Like

As a migrant in Germany, my support system looks different.

It’s not built-in.
It’s built.

It’s my husband.
It’s my friends.
It’s other mothers — some of them strangers before, now part of my life.

Spaces like New Roots at Impact Hub Munich or communities like FaemHive matter more than they might seem.

Not because they solve everything.
But because they create:

structure,
exchange,
understanding,
and the feeling of not being alone in this.

And that changes everything.

What I’m Learning

I’m learning that:

You cannot scale a business alone.
Delegation is not a weakness — it’s a skill.
Structure creates freedom.
Asking for help is necessary, not optional.
And growth always comes with discomfort.

But also:

You don’t need to have everything figured out.
You just need to keep moving — differently.

Where I Am Now

I’m still in it.

Still figuring it out.
Still adjusting.
Still learning to let go.

Not trying to balance everything perfectly.

But trying to build something that can hold both:
a business that grows,
and a life that makes sense.

My goal was simple: that TINKU would survive this phase.
But what happened was much more than that — it didn’t just survive, it started to grow in a completely different way.

Closing

I used to think building a business meant control.

Now I understand it’s about letting go — in the right places.

Letting go of doing everything.
Letting go of perfect timing.
Letting go of the idea that it all fits neatly together.

And maybe that’s the real shift.

Not becoming a different founder.
But becoming a more honest one.

Growth didn’t stop when I became a mother.
It just started to look different.

And at the end of all of this, I want to say thank you — to my baby Matthi.
For all the learnings you gave me even before you existed, and now, nine months later, for continuing to teach me every single day.