My Sister Mocked My “Manual Labor Job” At A Business Dinner. Then The Tv Behind Her Showed My $1.3b Net Worth. How Do I Handle The Apology Texts?

“That’s… that’s actually brilliant,” Robert said slowly. “Most tech founders never leave their offices,” he noted. “You went directly to the source,” he added.

“It seemed obvious to me,” I said. “How could I build better software without understanding the actual work?” I asked.

The lawyer was shaking his head in apparent awe.

“Nina, do you know how rare this is?” the lawyer asked. “A 27-year-old building a profitable, high-growth enterprise software company in an unsexy industry?” he questioned. “Most founders your age are burning through VC money trying to build the next social media app,” he noted. “You’ve built something that actually generates massive revenue,” he added.

I noted that logistics software isn’t glamorous but it’s essential, and every product people buy online passes through systems like ours.

Dad’s phone started ringing. He glanced at it then looked at me with a strange expression.

“That’s Charles Morrison,” Dad said. “He’s on the board at Columbia Business School, the school I dropped out of,” I noted. “He probably saw the Bloomberg interview,” I added.

Dad answered the call.

“Charles? Hello,” Dad said. “Yes, that was my daughter,” he confirmed. “Yes, Flow State Systems,” he said. “No, I… I didn’t realize the scale either,” he admitted.

He listened for a moment, his face getting redder.

“She what?” Dad asked. “A major donation? How much?” he questioned.

He went silent.

“Seven figures? For the entrepreneurship program?” Dad asked. He looked at me. “When did you?” he asked. “Last year,” I said quietly. “They asked if I’d contribute to the new entrepreneurship center, and I wrote a check for $1.2 million,” I explained.

Dad covered the phone.

“You donated over a million dollars to Columbia?” Dad asked. “They’re building a center to help students who want to start companies instead of following traditional paths,” I explained. “It seemed important,” I added.

He went back to the phone call.

“Yes, Charles,” Dad said. “I’m very proud,” he stated. “Yes, we should definitely talk about having her speak to students,” he agreed. “Oh, I’ll check with her and get back to you,” he concluded.

He hung up and stared at me.

“The Dean of Columbia Business School wants you to give the keynote at their graduation ceremony next spring,” Dad said. “I know; they reached out last month,” I told him. “I haven’t decided yet,” I added.

Jessica set down her phone.

“How is this possible?” Jessica asked. “How did you build a billion-dollar company in five years without any of us noticing?” she questioned.

“You weren’t paying attention,” I said. “You decided I was a failure because I dropped out of business school and got my hands dirty in warehouses,” I explained. “Nothing I said could change your minds because you’d already written the story about who I was,” I added.

I asked them if knowing would have changed anything, or if they would have treated me differently if I’d shown them the Forbes list or the funding announcements. Or would they have found other reasons to dismiss it until an external authority confirmed it?

There was silence.

“I think they would have dismissed it,” Robert said carefully. “People usually do when success doesn’t look the way they expect it to,” he added.

Dad’s hands were shaking slightly.

“Nina, I’m sorry,” Dad said. “I’m so sorry,” he repeated. “I completely misjudged everything,” he admitted. “I thought… I thought you were wasting your potential,” he said.

“I know,” I said. “If I’d known you were building this…” Dad started. “You should have believed me when I told you,” I interrupted. “You shouldn’t have needed Bloomberg to confirm it,” I told him.

“You’re right,” Dad said. “You’re absolutely right,” he agreed.

He looked around the table at his business friends, all of whom were now looking at me with respect and fascination.

“Everyone, I need to apologize,” Dad said. “I’ve been telling you all for years that my daughter was struggling, working dead-end jobs, and refusing to get serious about her career,” he noted. “I was completely wrong,” he admitted. “Nina is apparently more successful than everyone at this table combined,” he stated.

“Dad, it’s not a competition,” I said. “No, it’s important; I need to own this,” he replied.

He turned back to me.

“I’m proud of you,” Dad said. “Not because Bloomberg interviewed you or because you’re worth $880 million,” he clarified. “I’m proud because you saw a problem, figured out how to solve it, and built something meaningful,” he said. “And I’m ashamed that I didn’t see it until it was on national television,” he added.

Jessica spoke up quietly.

“I’m sorry too, Nina,” Jessica said. “I’ve been horrible, calling your work a hobby and mocking you at family dinners,” she admitted. “I was telling people you were unemployed when you couldn’t make events,” she added. “I was jealous of the attention you were getting, even though I thought you were failing,” she confessed. “Now I realize you were actually succeeding beyond anything I’d ever accomplish,” she concluded.

“Jess, you’re doing great in your career,” I said. “I’m a marketing director making $180,000 a year,” she countered. “You’re about to be a billionaire,” she noted. “There’s no comparison,” she added.

“Different paths, different definitions of success,” I told her.

Robert’s phone buzzed, and he looked at it and laughed.

“Nina, I just got a text from the CEO of my company,” Robert said. “He saw the Bloomberg interview,” he noted. “He wants to know if you’re accepting new clients,” he added. “He says, ‘Our logistics operations are a disaster, and he’ll pay whatever it takes to work with Flow State,'” Robert shared.

“Tell him to have his operations team reach out through our website,” I said. “We evaluate every potential client carefully to make sure we’re a good fit,” I added.

“You’re going to make him apply through your website?” Robert asked. “We have a process,” I said. “Just because he’s the CEO of a Fortune 500 company doesn’t mean he gets to skip it,” I explained.

The lawyer was grinning now.

“I like you,” the lawyer said. “You’re not impressed by titles or wealth; you just care about the work,” he noted. “That’s what matters,” he added.

My phone buzzed with a text from my CTO.

“Deployment complete. All 47 centers online. Zero errors. Client is ecstatic. This is going in the case studies,” the message read. I smiled and typed back. “Excellent work. Tell the team they’re getting bonuses. This was flawless,” I sent.

“Good news?” Robert asked. “The deployment I mentioned earlier; it’s complete,” I said. “47 distribution centers running on our software with zero downtime,” I explained. “The client will be able to process Black Friday orders 30% more efficiently this year,” I added.

“That’s happening right now, while we’re at dinner?” Robert asked. “The work doesn’t stop for dinner,” I said. “My team’s been monitoring the deployment for the past three hours, but it’s finished now, and they crushed it,” I told him.

Dad was quiet for a moment.