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Yangchen's Letter to Every Beginner

Updated: Jul 28

Growing up in the Himalayas, sustainability wasn't a conscious choice, it was simply how we lived. Every resource was precious, every decision carried weight, and nothing was wasted. I didn't know then that this foundation would become the cornerstone of everything I would build. But first, I had to lose everything I thought I was.


The Crash


For years, I lived inside a perfect cage of my own making. I was the student who accepted nothing less than 95%, and when I fell short, I would study until I reached 98%. Perfection wasn't just my standard—it had become my identity.


I studied Physics and loved the subject dearly. During my academic years, every breath was devoted to JEE, India's most challenging engineering exam. This wasn't just a test; it was the roadmap to everything I had dreamed of becoming. I had built my entire sense of self around this single moment.


And then, I didn't make it.


The failure wasn't just academic; it was existential. I didn't just lose the test but the identity I'd spent a decade building.


"Suddenly, I wasn't the one who had it all figured out."


I wasn't going to be an engineer. I settled into architecture because it was the closest socially acceptable fallback. On the surface, everything looked fine, but I was deeply unfulfilled.


That's when I made a decision that would change everything: I stopped pretending.


Learning to Be a Beginner


For years, I thought I knew myself. I was the academic achiever, the one with the plan. That identity felt solid, unshakeable. But when that carefully constructed sense of self crashed around me, I realised a devastating truth: I had no idea who I actually was.


But for the first time in my life, I had space to breathe. Real time, not stolen moments between my thesis. But when you've built your entire existence around being good at one thing, discovering you're a beginner at everything else is more than humbling, it's identity shattering.


I didn't belong anywhere. I wasn't creative enough for the designers around me. I wasn't experienced enough to leave home early from work. And I certainly wasn't wise enough to understand my state of mind.


I was a beginner, and I hated it with every fiber of my being.


Every time I faced a problem, I had to scramble to multiple places just to find answers to basic questions. Nothing felt intuitive. Nothing came naturally. I was starting from zero in this game of life, and it was the most uncomfortable place I had ever been.


In that void of identity, I found myself drawn back to where I began, my hometown in the mountains. I started spending my free time in the community. My days took on a different rhythm, as the communities in the mountains are all about preserving Mother Earth.


As I joined the community's weekly clean-up drives, I started endeavoring more. I made changes from the food I ate to the things I used. I started recycling, and my afternoons were spent with women upcycling clothes, finding purpose in the forgotten.


It was the fabric work that drew me in completely. There was something profound about holding a piece of cloth and seeing beyond its current state. Each piece felt like a problem waiting for a solution, much like the equations I used to solve, except now I was working with my hands.


The same mind that had once dissected complex problems was now seeing possibilities in discarded materials. Here was a challenge worth my attention: an industry creating enormous waste while communities like mine had already figured out the solutions.


Finding myself as a Beginner


What started as personal healing began to take on a different shape. The upcycled pieces I created during those community hours weren't just therapeutic; they had evolved into something others noticed.


Colleagues asked about my restructured jackets. Strangers stopped me to ask about bags made from repurposed fabric. Friends began approaching me asking if I could give their waste a new life. Each request felt like validation. I spent evenings transforming their forgotten pieces, finding ways of recycling things and educating my friends on sustainable fashion.


The requests multiplied. People weren't just interested in the clothes—they were curious about the process, the philosophy behind it. That's when I realized I wasn't just creating individual pieces anymore. I was demonstrating an alternative way of thinking about materials and waste.


Growing up with entrepreneurial parents had taught me to recognize opportunity in what was missing. The gap between fast fashion and conscious consumption was enormous, and I began to see exactly where I could fit.


Betting on the Beginner


While keeping my job, I started a small business creating custom eco-friendly clothing that worked well with different skin types. Over time, I began designing more intricate pieces, working with natural dyes, organic cotton, linen, and even recycled plastic for embroidery details. The response from my community was instant and overwhelmingly positive.


Between my salary and this growing venture, I began saving with a specific goal in mind: betting on myself once again. The numbers started to make sense. Orders were consistent. People weren't just buying clothes, but a different way of thinking about consumption.


That's when I took the leap that defined my future: I left my job, got a loan, and committed completely to my vision of creating a recycling innovation company, one that would prove solutions exist for every problem, including fast fashion.


Setting up the production facility felt overwhelming. Factory operations, equipment requirements, team management, I was learning everything as a beginner. Here's what every beginner needs to understand: it's tough starting something new, but when you embrace being a beginner instead of hiding it, people come to help you.


I was terrified my team would doubt me. Instead, the opposite happened. Because I was authentic about being new to this, my employees invested in teaching me. They saw someone genuinely learning, and that motivated them to grow alongside me. This is what every Beginner fears but needs to hear: your newness isn't a disadvantage. Being new meant I could see things others had missed, ask questions that revealed important gaps, and approach problems without the baggage of "that's how it's always been done."


My authenticity as a beginner became the foundation of everything that followed. One unit became two. Ten employees grew to forty. We started shipping internationally.


Valeri evolved into what it is today—a recycling innovation company transforming how we think about fashion. We work with natural fibers, bio-wash our garments, create collections using recycled materials, and educate consumers about sustainable choices.


Everything I'd learned came together in this moment: the support from a tiny community in the mountains, the analytical skills from my past, and the teachings from my team. But the most important lesson was to embrace the journey of being a beginner.


I stopped creating roadmaps after my biggest one crashed. I started with no experience, no investors, and paying off that loan felt impossible some months. What transformed everything wasn't just grit and discipline—it was about not being ashamed of being a beginner.


The Truth About Starting Over


Here's the thing: The role models you look up to—they were beginners too.


There's nothing romantic about starting from scratch. It's lonely. It's unclear. It tests your self-worth, sometimes leaving you questioning if you have any worth at all. Most people give up because it's so isolating that you start questioning your very existence.


I did too. There were nights when the weight of not knowing what I was doing felt crushing. When everyone around me seemed to have it figured out while I was still learning the basics. But my community pulled me through that darkness, and that taught me something: no one should have to navigate the beginning alone.


And now I want to make that journey less isolating for the next beginner.


This is why I'm building BEGI8NERS—a place where people can pursue their most impossible dreams without the overwhelming loneliness that usually comes with starting over. I'm not here to help you skip the hard parts. The struggle builds you. But I am here to make sure you don't waste time fighting invisible battles alone.


I'll provide you with every resource I spent years hunting down just to get basic answers. I'll remind you on the days when you doubt everything that you're not behind—you're just getting started, and the world hasn't seen the best of you yet.


Every expert was once a beginner who refused to give up. Every success story started with someone who had no idea what they were doing but decided to begin anyway. That's exactly where you are right now, and that's exactly where you're meant to be.



I see you

I've been you

And I'm here to build with you.


Welcome to BEGI8NERS

-Yangchen B Sharma


Yangchen founded Valeri by Vision in 2019. Valeri actively donates and supports animal welfare. She also micro-funds and mentors entrepreneurs, giving them the support she once neededama


 
 
 

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