When the rug gets pulled out from under you

📸 by Mehrdad Jiryaee on Unsplash

Picture this: You've spent two years building something. Two years of late nights, sacrifices, saying no to friends, family and other opportunities. You're finally there - so close you can taste it. Test users are trying your product. Launch is weeks away. Everything you've worked for is about to become real...

And then your co-founder quits.

Not in six months. Not after launch. Now. Right at the moment you need them most.

What would you do?

This is where Khalid found himself last month. His co-founder - the one who brought the technical expertise, the one he'd moved in with to make that final push - walked away. The app they'd built together, a wellbeing platform using data to help people build healthier habits, was ready. But the person who'd helped create it had reached his own limit.

The irony wasn't lost on either of them.

For Khalid, the ground had disappeared beneath his feet. Everything he thought he knew about the next six months, the next year, had just evaporated. And he was left with an impossible question: keep going, or walk away?

If you've been in business for any length of time, you know this feeling. Maybe your co-founder didn't quit - but you lost your biggest client. Or your funding fell through. Or someone essential got seriously ill. Or the market shifted overnight. Or a key partnership collapsed.

The specifics vary, but the feeling is universal: that sickening lurch when everything you'd planned for suddenly isn't the plan anymore.

And here's something I know from personal experience: sometimes you're on the other side of this story. When I exited two businesses, I was more in Khalid's co-founder's shoes - I just couldn't do it anymore. I'd burnt out financially, time wise, energy wise and otherwise. The fact that both businesses went on to do well after I left tells me it was fundamentally the wrong time to quit. But I had nothing left to give.

So what do you do when the rug gets pulled out from under you?

The messy middle: what actually happens first

Let's be honest about what this feels like in the moment. Because I think we often skip past this part - the raw, uncomfortable reality of major unexpected change.

When something like this happens, your brain goes into overdrive. Mine certainly did when I've faced these moments in my own businesses. You're likely to experience some combination of:

The personalising spiral - "What did I do wrong? Did I push too hard? Should I have seen this coming?" It's almost impossible not to make it about you, even when rationally you know it's more complicated than that.

The comparison trap - Suddenly everyone else's journey looks straightforward. Your university friends are getting promotions, buying houses, ticking off life milestones. Meanwhile, you're here, two years in, wondering if you've wasted your time chasing a dream that might never materialise.

The either/or thinking - Your brain wants to simplify. Give up or keep going? Quit and get a 'proper job' or risk everything? It feels like there should be a clear right answer, if only you were smart enough to see it.

The motivation drain - Even getting out of bed feels harder. Your routines fall apart. You find yourself procrastinating on things that used to be automatic. Then you get frustrated with yourself for wasting time, which makes everything feel worse.

The gambler's dilemma - You've already invested so much. Is walking away now throwing all that effort away? Or is continuing just throwing good time after bad, like a gambler who can't leave the table?

The freeze - Sometimes it's not even a conscious choice. You're so completely overwhelmed that you simply can't decide. Decision paralysis sets in. You find yourself doing nothing - not as a strategic pause, but because your brain has hit overload. And here's the thing about doing absolutely nothing: it has its own consequences. Opportunities pass by. Relationships deteriorate. The business slowly bleeds out. Paralysis feels safer than making the wrong choice, but it's still making a choice.

If you're experiencing any of this right now, you're not broken. You're human. This is what happens when certainty dissolves.

The question is: what do you do next?

Pause, don't panic

Here's the first thing I always tell clients when they're facing a major unexpected setback: you don't have to make the big decision right now.

I know that feels counterintuitive. When everything's uncertain, we want to grab onto something certain. We want to make a decision - any decision - just to feel back in control.

But here's what I've learned from watching founders navigate these moments (and from my own experience of exiting two businesses when I had nothing left): the decisions you make in the immediate aftermath of shock are rarely your best ones.

This isn’t freezing due to overwhelm - it is a strategic thinking pause.

Khalid and I have been working on creating what we call 'the grey space' - that deliberate pause between the crisis and the decision. Not forever. Not as avoidance. But as a strategic choice to regroup before committing to a new direction.

Looking back it’s what I could have done before I exited those two businesses that went on to be successes. I should have been less binary in my own thinking - was ‘in or out’ my only option?

In Khalid's situation he has reached a natural slowing point in the development of the app. He is waiting for test user data and feedback anyway. We noticed this together and used it to help him see that pausing wasn't delaying progress - it was part of the natural rhythm of what he was building. The app needed time to breathe. So did he.

This isn't weakness. It's wisdom.

Think about it: if you were physically injured, you wouldn't immediately run a marathon. You'd rest, assess the damage, heal, and then rebuild your strength. Why should a business crisis be any different?

So if you're in the middle of your own unexpected crisis right now, give yourself permission to pause. Not to give up - to recalibrate.

Getting back to ground

When the rug's been pulled out, you need to find solid ground again. Not the grand plan, not the big decision - just stability. Here's what that actually looks like in practice:

Return to routines that serve you

When everything external feels chaotic, internal structure becomes your anchor. Khalid noticed his procrastination was increasing - a sure sign that his usual supportive routines had fallen apart in the chaos.

We spent a whole session just mapping out what used to work for him: his morning routine, his exercise schedule, the small daily practices that kept him energised. Then we looked at what needed to change now that his circumstances had shifted.

He's added two new elements: a monthly 'meeting with himself' (once, he would have met with his co-founder for planning) and a separate recharge day each month. These aren't luxuries - they're necessities for navigating uncertainty.

What routines have you let slip? What did you used to do that helped you think clearly? Start there.

Nourish yourself first

You can't make wise decisions from an empty tank. If you're running on fumes, every problem looks insurmountable.

This might sound basic, but check: Are you sleeping? Eating proper meals? Moving your body? Getting outside? These aren't nice-to-haves when you're in crisis - they're the foundation everything else rests on.

One of my other clients recently faced a different crisis - approaching launch but with no energy and a nagging feeling that something was wrong. For her, it turned out the 'something wrong' was her physical health. She had to pause and focus on that before she could see clearly about her business.

Your brain works better when your body is looked after. Full stop.

Check in with your values

Here's the only guarantee I can offer when you're facing uncertainty: if you act against your values, you won't feel good about it - regardless of the outcome. And if you act in line with your values, you can't predict the future, but you'll always know you were true to yourself.

This isn't fluffy philosophy - it's practical guidance.

Khalid has been wrestling with big questions: Should he find a new co-founder or work with freelancers? Should he quit his part-time job to go all-in, or is that too risky? Should he just give up and get a stable job?

We keep coming back to his core values. What matters most to him? What does he stand for? When he looks back on this moment in five years, what will he wish he'd done?

These aren't easy questions, but they're the right ones. Because values-driven decisions rarely lead to regret, even when they're difficult.

The flexible mindset: living in the grey space

Remember that 'either/or' thinking I mentioned earlier? This is where we challenge it.

Khalid naturally leans toward binary choices - give up or go all-in. But we've been exploring what lives in between. Yes, the grey space might slow progress. But is that preferable to making a decision you'll regret?

Here's what living in the grey space actually looks like:

It's temporary, not permanent - You're not deciding to stay stuck. You're choosing a strategic pause while you gather information, rebuild your resources, and see what emerges.

It embraces the ebb and flow - Khalid and his co-founder were in a massive PUSH phase when everything fell apart. Now he's in a different phase - one that requires patience and reflection rather than action. That's not failure. It's recognising that building something meaningful isn't a straight line.

It makes space for options you can't see yet - When you're stuck in either/or thinking, you miss the third, fourth, and fifth possibilities. New co-founder or freelancers? Maybe. Or maybe there's someone in your network who could step in temporarily. Or maybe this is the moment to pivot the product slightly. You don't know yet - and that's okay.

It honours the iterative process - Nothing you're doing right now has to be forever. You can try something, see how it feels, and adjust. You can take a three-month contract for stability while you figure out the next move. You can bring in freelance help for the launch, then reassess. Every decision is an iteration, not a destination.

This is what I mean by flexible thinking. It's not indecision - it's staying open to what you discover as you move forward.

Where Khalid is now (spoiler: still figuring it out)

I wish I could wrap this up with a neat ending. "Khalid did X, and it all worked out beautifully!"

But that's not where we are, and honestly, that's not how these stories usually go.

Khalid is still in the middle. Some days he's energised by new possibilities. Other days he's grieving what he thought the journey would look like. He's rebuilding his routines, having those conversations with himself, exploring options he wouldn't have considered two months ago.

He hasn't made the big decision yet. And that's okay.

Because here's what I know from my own experience of sticking or twisting in multiple businesses: sometimes you quit too early (I've done that - watching businesses grow after I left with nothing). Sometimes you stay too long (I've done that too - flogging horses that were already dead).

The only way you can genuinely mess this up is by acting against your values or making major decisions while you're in shock.

Everything else? It's just the messy, uncertain, very human process of building something meaningful.

If you're in it right now

Maybe your co-founder hasn't quit. Maybe it's something else - funding fell through, a key client left, health issues derailed your plans, the market shifted.

The specifics don't matter as much as this: you're standing in the rubble of what you thought would happen, trying to figure out what comes next.

Here's what I want you to know:

You don't have to have the answer right now. You don't have to choose between all-in or all-out. You don't have to pretend you're not struggling.

What you do need to do is this: pause, breathe, nourish yourself, reconnect with your values, and give yourself space to see what's actually possible - not just what fear is telling you.

The rug got pulled out. That's real, and it's hard, and it's okay to feel all the feelings about it.

But you're still standing. And that matters more than you might think right now!