As I poured my heart into Holodex, the vision grew larger than life. It wasn’t just about creating a website anymore—it was about reimagining the way people experienced adult content. Around that time, I had an idea that felt revolutionary: Holodex VR.

The concept was simple yet groundbreaking. With virtual reality starting to gain traction, I envisioned an immersive platform where users could step into a digital space and interact with performers in ways never before possible. It was bold, ambitious, and so far ahead of its time that even I had trouble wrapping my head around it completely.

There was an investor working in the same building as my office. I’d seen him around—sharp suit, confident demeanour, the kind of person who looked like he could make things happen. One day, I decided to take a chance. I approached him with my idea, pitching Holodex VR as passionately as I could, laying out the vision and potential.

He listened carefully, nodding occasionally, but when I finished, his response was blunt:
"It’s like trying to start Apple overnight," he said. "Great idea, but no one’s ready for it—not the market, not the tech, not investors."

It hit me like a punch to the gut. No investment. No buy-in. No support.

But his words stuck with me, not as a rejection, but as a challenge. Maybe it was impossible to launch something that revolutionary in that moment, but that didn’t mean the idea was dead. It just meant I had to play the long game, waiting for the world to catch up to my vision.

It was a harsh reality check, but it didn’t deter me. If anything, it fuelled my determination. Being ahead of your time isn’t a curse—it’s a reminder that you’re building something extraordinary, something the world doesn’t yet know it needs.