Maybe I don’t have to be an alpha male

Yesterday, I went to a Taiwanese pitch event where you had to submit your company website to pitch. Since I don’t have a website or even a product, I didn’t submit. I just wanted to check out the vibe.

At first, I was disappointed. There were only two VCs as judges, and most of the feedback focused on the quality of the presentation.

“I think you could have rehearsed more to fit into the two minutes.” It felt like sitting through a boring university presentation!

What made it worse was how serious everyone was about pitching, making the atmosphere even duller. I could barely focus. But then, during the pitches, an idea struck me: Since I’ve been struggling to find people to interview for my side project, why not pitch and ask for help at the end?

When the host wrapped things up, saying, “Let’s call it a day,” my heart pounded as I raised my hand.

“Can I pitch?”

“Not really… we don’t have your deck.”

“I don’t need a deck,” I said, shamelessly gesturing that all I needed was myself.

“All right. Sure.”

I walked up on stage.

“Hi! I have no preparation. Here is my idea.” I hadn’t rehearsed even once. I just tried to recall the script from a video demo I’d done and made things up as I went along. Since the VCs had mentioned we should always communicate “why this, why now, and why me,” I tried to improvise my “why me” on the spot.

I scratched my head. “Ahh… yes… for why me… Ahh… I worked at Meta before, so… I think I’m a good engineer(?) And most of my friends are founders, so I’ve got clients(?).”

I looked shy, maybe even a little stupid, but I was genuine. Everyone laughed. They said they loved my pitch because it was short and sweet (probably because I forgot half the things I was supposed to say).

During the Q&A, one VC said, “For your idea, you have to consider A, B, C…” Things way beyond where I am right now.

“I have no idea,” I replied. Instead of trying to fake an answer like everyone else, I admitted I had no clue — because I really didn’t. People burst into laughter.

Surprisingly, the VC said it was great that I admitted when I didn’t know something. Another VC even offered to introduce me to companies I could interview. I could tell from his eyes that he genuinely wanted to help. Our connection felt professional, but also very human.

That moment made me realize I don’t need to pretend to be some alpha male founder to get what I need. I hate that culture, and it’s not who I am. But my honesty — about the problem I’m trying to solve, about what I need right now, and about where I need help — drew people in. I could see in their eyes that they wanted me to succeed.

By the end, I was surrounded by people asking for my contact, complimenting my spontaneous pitch, and joking with me. Group pitching is supposed to be stressful, a competition to outshine others. But instead, I felt fulfilled, connected, and more confident — not because I was better, but because I was unique.

Maybe, just maybe… if I ever fundraise in the future, people will help me too. But the reason might be different. Alpha males get money because they make people believe they can make tons of money. I might get money, not because I’m a money-making machine, but because people believe in my vision and trust that the money will come along the way. I can trust myself and lean into my own charm.

Weirdo friends, this journey is filled with scary things — pitching, fundraising, selling to customers. I often feel like it’s too hard and impossible for someone like Esther. But I’m changing. Maybe I’m better than I thought. And maybe I’ll carve out my own path, finding more joy than I can even imagine right now.