Authenticity as a Founder

A look inside a different kind of startup story

This started as a post about CO:CREATE’s founding story. But what kept surfacing wasn’t a timeline—it was a question:
What does it actually mean to be an authentic founder?

We’re often told that the most credible companies are built by people solving problems they’ve lived. The founder who scratched their own itch. The pain point turned billion-dollar business. And that can be powerful. But it’s not the only path. And it’s not mine.

I didn’t start CO:CREATE because I was a tattoo artist or a collector. It started with a conversation.

I was getting a small tattoo from an incredible artist. We spent the session talking about the tattoo industry—what’s broken, what’s beautiful, what could be better. He shared frustrations that went beyond logistics: feeling undervalued, unsupported, left on their own to navigate everything outside the art.

That conversation stuck with me.

At the time, the business we had been building wasn’t working. We had solid infrastructure—but no use case. So we began exploring ideas where we could build something meaningful, quickly. Something real.

Tattoos kept coming back up.

I didn’t know much about the industry. I wasn’t sure if the opportunity was big—or real. But the more I learned, the more curious I became.

I started reaching out to artists. Hundreds of them. I got ignored. Ghosted. Dismissed. But I kept going. And as the conversations grew, so did the clarity: the challenges weren’t isolated. The artist experience was fragmented. Booking was chaotic. Both clients and artists were overwhelmed.

At some point, I made a decision:
If I could find ten truly great artists—people at the top of their craft—who believed there was something worth building here, and who were willing to build it with us, I’d go all in.

And that’s what happened.
Those ten artists became our Founding Artist program. They didn’t just give us permission—they gave us their time, their input, their trust. They shaped the foundation of CO:CREATE in ways that still show up every day.

The product has evolved a lot since then. What we thought we were building at the beginning isn’t what we’re building now. But that’s what happens when you listen closely. Things shift. They deepen.

And somewhere along the way, it became personal.

Not because I’ve lived the exact experience—but because I’ve seen reflections of it. I grew up watching my mom figure out how to support our family after my dad died. She wrote books, spoke at churches, and sold her CDs and tapes in rec centers and auditoriums. My sister and I were her team—packing newsletters, managing tables, helping wherever we could. I saw how much work surrounded the work.

That reality—that pressure to be everything at once—feels deeply familiar in the tattoo community. Artists aren’t just creators. They’re entrepreneurs. They carry the full weight of their careers.

And yet, for all the worry I’ve carried about whether I belong in this space, what I’ve found is that the artists who get to know me have made space for me. Because they can feel that I care. That I listen. That I do the work.

There’s still some discomfort in how I’ll be perceived from a distance. I’m not covered in ink. I’m not “from” the industry. And from the outside, it’s easy to reduce someone to what doesn’t fit. But one-on-one, that fear fades. Because what matters most in this work isn’t how I look—it’s how I show up.

And maybe that’s what authenticity really comes down to.

It’s not always about having lived the problem firsthand.
It can also come from curiosity, empathy, humility, and persistence.

We’re still early. We’re still learning.
But I believe deeply in what we’re building—and who we’re building it for.

—Tara