Starting a business at 50 isn’t for the faint of heart. At this stage of my life, I’m not chasing some flashy Silicon Valley dream. I’m chasing stability. Freedom. A little breathing room for myself and the people who count on me.
I’ve lived long enough to know that money isn’t just numbers on a spreadsheet. It’s stress. It’s survival. It’s whether you can keep the lights on, put food on the table, and have enough left over for a little peace of mind. In my case, it’s not just about me — it’s about making sure someone I love, someone who’s given me more than I can ever repay, is taken care of too. That’s the reality that pushes me forward when it would be easier to quit.
I’ll be straight with you: profitability doesn’t come easy. I’m still in the trenches, building. Some days it feels like I’m sprinting uphill, only to slide back down a few feet. But that’s what entrepreneurship looks like in real life — especially when you don’t have decades to waste or piles of capital to burn.
That’s where AI has become a lifeline for me. Not a magic switch, not some get-rich-quick scheme — but a bridge. A bridge between the small business I’m building and the resources I don’t have. A bridge between financial survival and the possibility of real growth. A bridge between the chaos in my head and the clarity I need to keep going.
AI helps me stay lean when money is tight. It helps me stay consistent when focus is a struggle. And it gives me back the most valuable resource I’ve got at this stage of life: time. Time to think, time to care for the people who need me, time to keep the vision alive when everything else feels uncertain.
I’m working on certifications in financial wellness — not because I’ve got all the answers, but because I’m still learning too. Life gave me the hard lessons, and now I want to back that up with professional training. My hope is to take what I’ve lived, combine it with what I’m learning, and use it to walk alongside others who are on the same uphill road.
Being a “diagnosed entrepreneur” means I carry depression, anxiety, and ADHD into every decision I make. But it also means I’ve learned how to work differently. My ADHD helps me spot patterns. My anxiety keeps me alert. My depression taught me how to sit in the dark long enough to find the light switch. What used to feel like weakness, I now see as fuel.
So here’s the truth: I’m building, and it’s hard. Profitability doesn’t show up overnight. But I believe in the bridge I’m building — between experience and opportunity, between survival and growth, between old struggles and new tools like AI. And if you’re out there building too, just know — you’re not alone.
~Todd J Savard
The Diagnosed Entrepreneur
