My Husband Had Security Drag Me Out Of His Board Meeting For “Playing Entrepreneur.” Now He Works For A Company That Uses My Software Every Single Day. Was I Too Harsh?

That night, Diana took me and the Compass team out to celebrate. We went to a rooftop restaurant downtown, and as I stood at the railing looking out over the Austin skyline, Diana came to stand beside me.

“How does it feel?” Diana asked.

“Surreal. I keep waiting to wake up,” I answered.

“You’re not dreaming. This is real. You built this,” Diana said.

“We built this,” I corrected. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

Diana shook her head.

“I gave you resources and guidance. You did the work. Never forget that, Rebecca. Your success isn’t because of me; it’s because of you.” She said.

Lessons in Empowerment

Three months after launch, Compass had 200,000 users. Datasphere acquired Vision Tech for $30 million.

As part of the deal, Compass became the default interface for all Vision Tech users. David stayed on as a VP, reporting to the Datasphere CEO.

Every day, he had to see my company’s logo on his platform. Every day, he had to answer questions about why Vision Tech had rejected Compass in the first place.

I saw him once after that, at a tech industry conference in San Francisco. He was at the bar, nursing a drink, looking older than his years.

I could have walked past; I could have ignored him. But Diana’s words echoed in my mind: the best revenge is success.

So I walked over.

“David,” I said.

He looked up, and I saw it all in his eyes: regret, resentment, and defeat.

“Rebecca. Congratulations on your success,” David said.

“Thank you. How are things at Datasphere?” I asked.

“Fine. Good. It’s an adjustment, not being CEO anymore,” David said.

We stood in awkward silence for a moment. Then he said, “I was wrong about you. About your idea. I should have listened.”

“Yes, you should have,” I replied.

“Would you ever consider—I don’t know—consulting with Vision Tech? We’re struggling to integrate Compass into our older systems, and I thought—” David asked.

“No,” I said simply. “But I’m sure my team can recommend someone who can help you. Send your request through the official channels.”

I walked away and didn’t look back.

Today, two years after that moment in the parking garage, Compass Technologies has over 5 million users. We’ve expanded our team to 40 employees.

Last quarter, we hit profitability. Diana sits on my board, still mentoring me and still pushing me to think bigger.

Vision still exists as a subsidiary of Datasphere, and David still works there. But Compass has become the larger, more valuable company.

Last month, Forbes ran a profile on me with the headline, “How Rebecca Chen turned rejection into a tech empire.” Diana framed it and hung it in the Athena Ventures conference room.

Sometimes late at night, when I’m working in my home office, I think about that day: the humiliation of being escorted out by security, the shame of my husband’s dismissal, and the terror of starting over with nothing.

I think about Diana’s silver Tesla pulling up beside me, and about her words.

“I’m about to teach your husband what happens when you underestimate the wrong woman.”

She taught him, all right. But more importantly, she taught me what I was capable of when someone finally believed in me—when I finally believed in myself.