From 'insert Abby' to Founder: My Sproutwise Startup Story

It was June 26, 2023, and my twin sister and I were sitting in my kitchen. She was visiting from Austin, Texas, and we had lots to catch up on. Our mother had just been put into hospice care in the weeks prior, and I needed a moment with my best friend as we navigated our grief. I needed a moment to chat about the small things, like the latest happenings with my daughters or my husband, Kevin. To laugh about the silly things and cry about the difficult things. 

We also talked about the hard, messy things happening at work.

At the time, I was working for a 60-person, Australian-based startup as a first hire to lead a global HR function, and, despite the interesting challenge of the work itself, I was feeling this enormous pressure to strategize, lead, partner, build, do, and somehow keep my wits about me as a solo resource despite everything happening in my life. It felt like lead weights on my ankles, and daily, I remember the constant cycling of questions. How is it possible to do [waves hands in the air] all of this well and not lose my mind in the process? Was I the only one feeling this crushing weight of anxiety to deliver every day, everywhere, for everyone? Am I the only one who feels that this ask of HR doesn’t work? I shared all of this with my sister and then confessed that I didn’t want to do it anymore. It felt like admitting failure. I felt like a failure. I wanted to do things differently, on my own terms, and I no longer wanted to fix broken systems from the inside. So she said, “So don’t. Do your own thing then.” And that’s when it finally clicked—maybe walking away wasn’t failure. Maybe it was the first real step toward building something better.

Wait, what? Maybe we need to hit the rewind button and start at the beginning.

Over my two-decade career, here’s what I have seen in the many, many times I’ve worked in high-growth, early-stage companies. They tend to follow a very similar origin story:

The early team typically comprises a hyper-technical and/or visionary founder, along with a handful of engineers who secured early investment to build (often from venture capital firms). This early stage is centered around some version of values like breaking things quickly, being customer-obsessed, and cultivating a culture of boldness and shared impact for all. 

Snapped this on my first day at Attentive — December 16, 2019, at our NYC HQ.

In my experience working with these companies, there would typically be some buildout of teams and departments, but without fail, HR would often be either an orphaned or shared function across these founders and early hires. No one actually owned or drove a vision or structure for the team itself, despite it being a key value. And then, at around 50-100 people, this company hires someone to oversee the “people stuff.” Insert: Abby. 

The good news is that my journey in startups has led to four exits. As the hyperambitious sort that I am, each of these opportunities became a game to stretch and challenge myself in ways I could have never imagined, and to improve at growing an organization each time. Every problem was an opportunity to tinker and solve. Solutions were built under the helm of some truly incredible leaders. Mahesh Ram, my CEO from Solvvy, is one of them. He believed in our work, was a tireless advocate for his team, and modeled a steady and deep emotional intelligence that I have carried with me years later. It also allowed me to work alongside some exceptionally talented teammates, who were equally as resolved in this work. To my fellow Secure-24, HookLogic, Dynatrace, and Solvvy colleagues, you have all been a powerful and consistent wind at my back along this journey. I often still marvel at our ability to meet the moment and deliver under pressure, even with limited or nonexistent resources, in each of these companies.

Clockwise from top left: Team HookLogic — Amy Drain and Caitlin Geils in 2016; our 2021 Solvvy team offsite in Arizona; me, repping a small part of my very large swag collection; and finally, the Solvvy People Team — Linus Coy, me, Cameo Davis, Lisa Robinson, and Carla Klein.

I’d be remiss not to explore the other side of the coin. Every successful exit, on paper, is a win. But behind the scenes, it often felt like grief. My team and I would hand off everything we had built to an acquiring company, only to find ourselves scrambling to adapt to a culture we hadn’t created, or being let go altogether. The irony? The very people responsible for shaping the culture were suddenly the ones who didn’t fit.

And for me, that grief often spiraled into something heavier. I hadn’t been there from the beginning, so when our work got deprioritized—or quietly dissolved—I couldn’t help but take it personally. Was I not strong enough to earn a seat earlier? Was HR ever really part of how companies grow, or just a box to check once they did? I started to wonder if I was chasing something that didn’t exist—if believing it could be different was just wishful thinking. And if even my mentors felt stuck in the same loop, who was I to think I’d break the pattern?

In 2023, after some serious soul-searching, more than a few moments of doubt, and the gentle but persistent encouragement of my husband and sister, I finally took the leap. A handful of early discovery calls—some of which turned into my first clients—helped me see there was something real to build. I stopped pouring my energy into building other people’s visions and started building my own. I incorporated Sproutwise with the mission of being a people-first operating partner for founders who care about building responsibly, but at the outset of their journey, instead of later in their growth curve. To meet these founders where they are, even if that’s hiring a first employee out of a Google Doc. To build people AND product-first cultures that don’t just survive growth, but thrive because of it. And to do all of this in a way that was both flexible and at a price point that didn’t mean they were investing in full-time hires they didn’t need or couldn’t afford. I vividly recall thinking that if I could give this idea a name, it would become real. 

I look back at my first blog post where I detailed my enduring love of startups, and here’s the good news: I can confirm it still remains. I’d actually argue that my passion for building is stronger than it was nearly two years ago, when I started Sproutwise. I’m still deeply honored and captivated to see teams and companies materialize before our eyes. To work with founders I’d only once admired from afar and to see, like celebrities in People Magazine: They’re Just Like Us! They’re figuring it out on the fly and building the track they’re also running on. 

I love my work, and not in an it’s-what-I’m-supposed-to-say kind of way in a blog about what got me here <wink>. For just about the first time in my career, my Mondays don’t ruin my Sundays. I’m excited to return from vacation and refocus on what we’re solving for: building repeatable systems, processes, and supporting the hard work of a team, having been there many times before. And apparently, it shows. My sister has said more than once that I seem lighter these days. I’m more grounded, more content, and carrying a quiet confidence that’s been decades in the making.

To date, we’ve worked with 17 companies (and counting) across various industries, including technology, nonprofits, manufacturing, aerospace, hospitality, engineering, and construction. Never in my career have I had the opportunity to work with such a diverse range of companies in such a short time. In embarking on this journey, I hoped that we could easily demonstrate that people are people, regardless of the type of work they do. However, the acceleration and growth I’ve experienced have been a surprising and deeply appreciated side effect. I’m better for the sheer amount of problem-solving and thinking on my feet I’ve been forced to do, and it’s only given me a better understanding of the challenges founders face.

Becoming a founder myself, I now recognize this new perspective as a gift; I’ve made a career out of building and serving teams for other leaders, but now building one myself means I have to navigate the challenges of growing and scaling a business. And anyone reading this will know that there are many, and it sure can feel like a giant game of whack-a-mole some days. That shift has changed everything. Suddenly, all the things I used to advise on come with real weight: cash flow, hiring, culture, compliance, and delivery. And like most founders, I’ve had to get honest about where I’m strong and where I need support.

Because even when you care deeply about your people—and I believe most CEOs truly do—they’re just one of many competing priorities. It’s a lot. And that’s exactly where we come in. We’ve built a team that’s not only strong in all the areas I just mentioned, but built to support other founders through them.

The what matters—but the who matters more.

That’s why building our team has been such a pivotal inflection point. I work better in collaboration with people who challenge, stretch, and sharpen the work. You know the saying: if you’re the smartest person in the room, you’re in the wrong room. From Linus Coy, my former Solvvy colleague, to Cay Umansky, Amy Harris, Kayla Owens, and Amy Jun, each of them has brought something distinct and essential. Their insight, candor, and curiosity have multiplied our output and deepened our thinking. I’ve always believed that teams need a home for dissent, because growth happens at the intersection of convention and opportunity.

And then there’s Emily Samar.

Finding Emily was its own inflection point. With her deep startup experience, fearless clarity, and expansive vision, she didn’t just complement my strengths; she multiplied them and expanded the ambition of what Sproutwise could be. She’s been a steady force and a bold thought partner as we dive into Michigan’s innovation ecosystem and chart what’s next for our small, yet mighty team. The right partners don’t just help you build a company—they help you believe bigger. As I’ve said more than once, and will continue to say, everyone needs an Emily.

One of the most unexpected joys of this journey has been discovering the power of showing up for people, for ideas, for possibility. Sproutwise has become more than a company; it’s a vehicle for me to lean into connection, expansion, and contribution. We’ve been everywhere lately: hosting tables and moderating conversations at Bamboo, facilitating Michigan Tech Week’s founder speed dating event, a fireside chat at the Annual Shine On Summit, and more. Our partnerships run deep and wide, spanning leaders across the ecosystem of innovation here in the Midwest, and a network beyond that continues to expand daily. From the Detroit Executives Association to collaborations with founders who trust us to help build what’s next, I’ve never been more certain of the value of real relationships and the power of a generous network.

The 2025 Shine On Summit

This confidence to put myself out there is new for me, and it’s something I’m profoundly grateful for. I love paying forward the mentorship and support that helped get me here. A personal mantra I return to often is this: Success is better shared. And I was reminded of that so clearly during a recent fireside chat we hosted, when the brilliant Christina Fair shared this: “You are the average of the people you surround yourself with.” It stuck with me because I’ve felt that truth in every conversation, collaboration, and moment of growth we’ve had at Sproutwise.

In truth, Sproutwise has changed more than just my work. It’s changed how I show up everywhere. I’ve found space to model service and leadership in my own community as an elected public official, and I get to show my daughters what it looks like to chase something bold and make space for the people and places that matter most. I want them to see that how we build and how we believe is just as important as what we build.

Election Day, 2024

My husband once said to me, “Abby, we all believed you could do this, but now you finally see what we see.” He’s right. For the first time, I do, and that quiet knowing has become the foundation for everything that comes next.