I’ve been dealing with waves of anxiety lately. It had never happened to me before, but my body is speaking — it’s asking me to slow down. For someone like me, who’s naturally logical and tries to find a rational explanation for everything, this has been tricky. Anxiety lives in an emotional sphere I’m not familiar with, and I don’t yet have the tools to navigate it.

Up until 2023, I was moving fast in life. Things were progressing as expected, both personally and professionally. But I now realize I made the mistake of forgetting about myself and becoming addicted to the challenges at work. My personal and professional lives blurred in a way that, in hindsight, was emotionally taxing. I couldn’t see it at the time because of the inertia. Then the layoffs came, I was impacted, and everything came to a hard stop. A part of me moved on, but another part stayed behind, quietly processing emotions that would occasionally surface and demand attention. I ignored them.

Marek and I decided to build a business around Tuist — something I’m deeply excited about, but that also came with a new emotional landscape I had to learn to navigate. When Tuist was a hobby, I placed very few expectations on myself. But once it became a business, I started imposing expectations that brought a flood of emotions: What if it fails? What if we don’t succeed in executing the vision? These questions made me uncomfortable and, at times, stole some of the joy. The shift also introduced me to a set of dynamics very different from those in a free, open, community-driven project. I guess those feelings are natural, but they added to the emotional baggage I was already carrying. Again, I never learned how to deal with this kind of emotional weight.

When I look for stories from others who’ve gone through similar transitions — especially founders — I find almost nothing. Most public conversations focus on success stories and funding rounds. I can’t imagine doing all of this alone, so I’m grateful Marek and I are pushing through it together.

As if that wasn’t enough, I topped off the glass with a running accident that led to a knee dislocation, torn ligaments, and a nerve injury — something that could have left me with a permanent foot disability. The aftermath forced me to navigate the German healthcare system, and I felt abandoned by it. No one emphasized the severity of the injury. Some suggested I just forget about it and move on, and one even told my wife she should cook healthy meals so I could lose weight. It was tough — very tough. I pushed and pushed until I got my first surgery in Barcelona (which I paid for myself), stayed there for a month, and scheduled a second surgery for September. Thankfully, I could afford it — but it shouldn’t have been that way.

So here I am, dealing with anxiety bursts. If you see me exhausted, quiet, or not being the social, extroverted Pedro you’re used to — that’s why. I’m working on it, and I’m optimistic that I’ll come through this stronger.

My emotional chapter at Shopify is over. It was rough, but I learned a lot about myself through an emotional lens. My nerve is recovering, my ligaments are eager for reconstruction, and we’ve built the best team we could have imagined to build something amazing for app developers. What more could I ask for?

Please, listen to yourself. Slow down. Give yourself time to be present. The world — especially the tech industry — moves fast, but you don’t have to. That speed isn’t natural to life. Aligning yourself with life’s rhythms gives you the clarity and space to take care of yourself.