We recently connected with Elena Soboleva and have shared our conversation below.

Elena, thanks for joining us, excited to have you contributing your stories and insights. Often outsiders look at a successful business and think it became a success overnight. Even media and especially movies love to gloss over nitty, gritty details that went into that middle phase of your business – after you started but before you got to where you are today. In our experience, overnight success is usually the result of years of hard work laying the foundation for success, but unfortunately, it’s exactly this part of the story that most of the media ignores. Can you talk to us about your scaling up story – what are some of the nitty, gritty details folks should know about?

From the outside, rapid growth can look like magic. But in reality, scaling our edtech startup was messy, exhausting, and anything but glamorous.

I never planned on being a founder. I was born and raised in a tiny, mountainous country most Americans have never heard of — Kyrgyzstan, a former Soviet republic. I came to the U.S. in 2013 to earn my MBA in Florida, fueled more by a desire to be a supportive partner than a tech entrepreneur. My American boyfriend had big dreams of launching a company. So when he suggested we enter a student business plan competition, I joined mostly to back his ambition (maybe that was the Eastern woman in me — believing a woman’s role is to grow her husband).

We ended up winning second place and $6,500. But truthfully, we were so broke and burned out, we didn’t even want to hear the name of our startup for the rest of that semester. Still, after summer break, I pushed us to give the idea another shot — because when I believe in something, I don’t let go easily.

Since we weren’t engineers, my partner built our first MVP in Excel. (Yes — our anti-cheating algorithm pulled live data from the internet into a spreadsheet!) We convinced one brave professor to test it during a real exam. The results were jaw-dropping: over 40% of students were Googling answers. That test got us into our school’s business incubator.
Years 1–2 were pure grind. We were students trying to act like founders, constantly hitting walls, always improvising. We raised $150k from friends and family, convinced two programmers to join for equity, and finally had one paying client and $25k in revenue after almost two years (we literally framed that first check).
By Year 4, we had 5 clients, 10 employees, and closed a $1M round. By Year 5, revenue hit $850k, and our team grew to 20. We had clients, a call center overseas, and a working product — but we were still young founders trying to convince mature decision-makers in higher ed to buy from us.

We realized we needed adults in the room. So we begged one of our early investors — a successful entrepreneur who had just sold his own edtech company — to become our CEO. At first, he refused. He had just gotten married and was planning to travel the world. But after a year of trying to recruit outside candidates (none of whom wanted to work for an underfunded startup), he finally said yes.

That’s when everything changed. With a professional CEO, we closed a $5M round, attracted seasoned VPs, and entered a phase of exponential growth.

In Year 7, the COVID era supercharged us. Demand for online proctoring skyrocketed. We doubled headcount, quadrupled our client base, raised a $25M Series B round led by a major VC firm, and hit $10M in revenue. Eventually, we expanded beyond universities to serve corporate clients — integrating with platforms used by Fortune 500 companies and stepping into a new vertical.

I still remember the first time I felt the shift starting to happen. We had just hired our new VP team, and the CEO had officially come on board — a big moment for us as founders who had been wearing every hat since day one. I was moving apartments and had brought a few boxes into the office — something I used to do all the time when we ran the company out of our living room. Later that day, the CEO gently pulled me aside: a few of the new VPs had quietly complained that I was treating the office like my personal storage. I was a little stunned. But I understood. That day, I realized: this wasn’t my company anymore. It belonged to the team. And that’s a good thing. I just didn’t expect that soon, I myself would no longer have a room in it — like those boxes of mine.

By 2024, the company had scaled significantly — achieving substantial revenue growth and expanding to 150 employees. It had become an institution — a corporate machine — and a far cry from the scrappy startup we once ran from our living room.

As to me, today, I choose to stay close to early-stage startups. I mentor founders through global communities like Startups.com and share what I’ve learned over my own 10-year journey. Because while everyone dreams of scale, not everyone is ready for what it asks of you.

For me, scale meant transforming a scrappy student project into a multimillion-dollar institution. It meant being replaced by better people, watching from the sidelines as something you once owned now lives and breathes on its own. It was painful, humbling — and yet the greatest privilege of my career.

Awesome – so before we get into the rest of our questions, can you briefly introduce yourself to our readers.

I’m Elena Soboleva — a Kyrgyz-born founder, mentor, and investor with a deep love for early-stage startups and a mission to empower underrepresented entrepreneurs.

I started my journey far from Silicon Valley, growing up in a small town in post-Soviet Central Asia. Like many women in my culture, I was raised to believe that a woman’s main role was to support her husband’s career — not build her own. That mindset stayed with me when I moved to the U.S. in my twenties to pursue an MBA in Florida. I joined a business plan competition mostly to support my partner’s idea… but that project turned into something much bigger.

Over the next 10 years, we built a leading edtech startup that went from an Excel prototype to a platform trusted by hundreds of universities and corporations. I served as co-founder and CFO, raising multiple rounds of funding (including a $25M Series B), overseeing operations and finance, and helping scale the company from 0 to 150 employees. It was a wild ride — full of wins, painful pivots, and the kind of deep personal growth only a startup can deliver. Eventually, I stepped away after a successful exit, and it was then I realized just how much I loved the earliest, scrappiest days of building.

Today, I work with early-stage founders across the U.S. and Central Asia — especially women and underrepresented talent — helping them turn their ideas into high-growth companies. I mentor through platforms like Startups.com, collaborate with accelerators, and advise founders on fundraising, financial strategy, pitch decks, hiring, and scalable infrastructure. My superpower is being hands-on: I don’t just give high-level advice — I roll up my sleeves and help you make the spreadsheet, tighten the investor story, or find your first strategic hire.

What sets me apart is that I’ve lived the full founder arc — from napkin sketch to nine-figure valuation. I understand what it’s like to be underestimated, to raise money with an accent, to lead while learning. I know how lonely the founder path can feel — and how thrilling. And I believe we don’t just need more innovation in the world; we need more who in innovation. More women, more voices from emerging markets, more overlooked geniuses solving problems that matter locally and globally.

If you’re a founder building something bold — or hoping to become one — I’d love to connect. My brand is all about clarity, confidence, and creating the kind of support I wish I had when I was just starting out. Whether it’s your first pitch or your next big leap, I’m here to help you build something real.

You can find me on LinkedIn (https://www.linkedin.com/in/elena-soboleva-a7a78050/) and subscribe to my YouTube channel (https://www.youtube.com/@elenasoboleva4935) where I’ll be sharing startup stories, founder advice, and behind-the-scenes of building across continents.

We often hear about learning lessons – but just as important is unlearning lessons. Have you ever had to unlearn a lesson?

I was raised in Central Asia to believe that the biggest success a woman could hope for was to marry well. And not just any man — a promising one, someone you could support and grow alongside. My job, as I saw it, wasn’t just to succeed — it was to raise a successful man. A kind of modern Cinderella, except instead of waiting for a prince, I had to earn my place in Harvard’s castle and hope to bump into one.

That belief took me all the way to the U.S., where on my very first day of my MBA program I met a charismatic guy with big dreams of launching a tech company. When he asked me to join him in a business plan competition, I was exhausted, working two jobs and trying to survive as an international student — but I said yes. Not because I wanted to build a company, but because, well… I thought he might be my fifth element. My path to a strong and stable life.

We went on to build a startup together — I handled everything from finances to operations to marketing while he led the tech. And for a while, that dynamic felt perfectly natural. I told myself I was the “power behind the throne.” But after a few painful experiences (including one involving my equity being quietly changed from 50% to 30%), I had to face a harder truth: I wasn’t a hidden power. I was a woman who hadn’t yet realized her own value — and it nearly cost me everything.
I had to unlearn the belief that my success should come second. That my career should be quiet, supportive, behind-the-scenes. That my ambition should serve someone else’s dream first.

When I shook off those limiting beliefs, everything changed — in business and in life. Even though the marriage with my partner didn’t last, I succeeded in our business and ultimately outlasted him. I also found love again — today I’m happily married, with two beautiful children.

Can you tell us the story behind how you met your business partner?

I met my business partner — who also happened to be my boyfriend and, eventually, my first husband — on my very first day in the U.S. I had just arrived from Kyrgyzstan to start my MBA, still dizzy from culture shock and Florida humidity, dragging a bag full of food and documents across campus. Exhausted and overwhelmed, I stood staring at a bulletin board when someone tapped me on the shoulder.

“Poke my butt,” he said.
I blinked. “Excuse me?”
“Poke my butt!” he repeated.

Apparently, it was a joke. One I absolutely didn’t get. I told him, “Sorry, I’m from Kyrgyzstan — we don’t do that there.” He laughed. Then handed me his phone and said, “Put your number in.” I did — mostly just to end the interaction. He saved me in his contacts as “Kazakhstan.”

That guy would go on to charm me, help me navigate life in America, buy me my first GPS, and insist on ordering five dishes at every restaurant so I didn’t have to eat $3 soup for a week. And I? I fell for him, wholeheartedly. I had come to the U.S. still thinking my goal was to “marry well and support my man.” When Adam said he wanted to become a big entrepreneur, I thought: there he is — my fifth element.

So when he decided to join a business plan competition, I didn’t jump in because I dreamed of a startup. I joined because I wanted to help him. I became his unofficial team member, muse, editor, tutor, and emotional support system. We placed second. The judges loved our concept. But my boyfriend? He was tired. And before long, he pivoted into other projects.

Every month, there was a new business idea. A hot sauce subscription box (he went as far as even ordering custom cases that sat unopened in our living room for years — ultimately serving as an ottoman). An online domain empire full of SmithPlumbing.com’s (at least that was living in the cloud and not our tiny one-bedroom apartment in Delray Beach, FL). And every month, I watched my partner’s energy bounce between ideas — and his equally unmotivated startup friends — while I quietly worried that we were letting go of something real.

Eventually, I lost my supportive patience — maybe it was the hot sauce boxes, or maybe it was seeing his friends constantly hanging out in our tiny apartment — and I finally snapped: “No more new small ideas until we give a real try to the tech one that already won the competition!”

The idea, of course, was Honorlock — the one that stuck, scaled, and changed our lives.
So yes, my co-founder happened to be my future ex-husband. I didn’t set out to build a business — I set out to build a life with someone. But somewhere along the way, I switched to scaling the business and my share in it… and completely lost at the marriage game.

I guess balancing love and legacy is never simple — especially when you try to build both under the same roof. What I’ve learned is this: in life, it’s wise to have more than one place to feel safe. Because when the storm hits — and it will — you’ll need somewhere steady to run to while the other rebuilds.

Contact Info:

• Website: https://sobolevaelena.com/
• Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/elena.soboleva.n
• Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/elena-soboleva-a7a78050/
• Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/@elenasoboleva4935