I just had to come back on the blog with a Taylor reference (okay, not really, but it makes me happy so let’s roll with it!). This time though, I wanted to share something a little more personal than my usual articles. On Espiègle, I rarely go into details about certain parts of my life — and that’s a conscious choice. My love life is one of them. I sometimes mention my boyfriend, but I never share much. So don’t worry, this isn’t about to turn into a honey-dripped love letter (though, let’s be honest, it could go off track at any moment — you can’t change a winning team).

I often tell you how essential it is to have a strong support system, how lucky I am to be surrounded by friends, partners, and clients who push me to keep moving towards the future I want to build. But one subject I almost never dive into — partly out of modesty, partly to protect my privacy — is the role my life partner plays in my professional journey. It’s not about denying the credit I deserve, but about reflecting on the very specific (and often underestimated) place that our +1s hold in our entrepreneurial adventures.

In many entrepreneur biographies — a format I love — the person’s love life comes up. Not for voyeurism, but because the partner is often one of the keys to success. And let me tell you: after twelve years with the same sidekick by my side, I can say with certainty that he’s an integral part of the equation behind my biggest achievements.

Unwavering support

In nearly every piece of content I consume about entrepreneurship, business or art, the big names we study — and those building their names right before our eyes — all highlight the importance of their partner’s role.

And no, I’m not talking about grand declarations like André Gorz’s Lettre à D., that long love-and-apology letter he wrote to his wife when she was 80 (though I highly recommend reading it if you haven’t — it’s short and moving).

The kind of support I’m talking about is quieter, humbler. The silent actions of daily life. The presence in intimate spaces. The invisible contribution that makes success possible.

It’s not mentors with shiny badges. It’s not dazzling co-founders. It’s not lucky encounters that suddenly change everything. It’s the people who stay when no one — not even you — can see success coming. They listen to your wildest dreams and help shape them. They see in you what you can’t see yourself. They perceive a flame and guard it fiercely. They handle the mundane when you’re swallowed by the infernal machine of your ideas. They stand by you at your highest and lowest — and keep believing in you no matter how deep the hole you’ve dug for yourself.

This ability to understand how you function, to perceive your potential, to listen endlessly to your half-formed ideas, to hold out a compassionate hand when you’re too broken to get up on your own… all that, without ever claiming a piece of your achievements. All that, in silence, without expecting recognition. Just a constant, reassuring presence, given without ulterior motives.

That doesn’t grow on trees.

And I also hear far too many horror stories that make me shiver: partners mocking their spouse’s ambitions, refusing to share housework or emotional labour so that the other can carry a business project to the finish line. My view is biased, of course, because I’m mostly surrounded by women entrepreneurs in heterosexual couples. Unsurprisingly, many of them are juggling domestic and emotional loads on top of running a business.

Too many end up giving up or scaling down their ambitions. Others break up and only then, finally, unlock their full potential. Of course there are exceptions (and no, we don’t need the #notallmen brigade here). But still — how many women never even start because they don’t have the mental space, the time, or the support? Just a few days ago, in a community of aspiring entrepreneurs (most of them mothers), I read dozens of posts about husbands mocking their business ideas, belittling them, insisting they’ll never succeed.

Launching a business already demands enormous courage and vulnerability. Honestly, today it would feel the same as walking naked down the street. So if the person who shares your most intimate space — and is supposed to love you — tears you down, how do you keep going?

My partner has always believed in me, even through my biggest screw-ups. He’s the one who pulls me back down to earth when my brain spirals into disaster scenarios. He listens tirelessly to my strategic ramblings, my contract updates, rereads my blog posts and Instagram captions (even though he’s not on social media). Sure, he sometimes sighs through it — but he does it anyway.

He knows all my clients by name, understands their businesses and their stakes. He knows my wildest dreams and never once tells me they’re “too big” or “unrealistic.” He’s the one who reminds me why I do all this when I’m drowning. And even though my friends always find the right words, he’s there every morning when I wake up anxious, when I curl into a ball, when I cry in front of my screen because I feel like I’ll never be enough. He’s there when I’m working past 2 a.m. because inspiration hit. He’s there when I lose a contract, when my heart breaks, when I doubt everything.

Call it cheesy if you want — cucul la praloche, as we’d say in French — but if Espiègle and I are still here today, it’s largely thanks to him.

The reminders no one else dares to give

We often talk about the warm hugs, the encouragement, the pep talks — and yes, those matter. But what I’m even more grateful for are the wake-up calls.

In every founder’s story, there’s always a moment where the +1 delivers the famous kick up the ass that turns everything around. That’s when I find myself thinking, “Damn, I’d love to meet this person.” Because if you’re living with someone who has a big vision and wild ambitions, sometimes you need the guts to say: “Hey, love, you’re way off track.”

I find these dynamics fascinating: one partner in the spotlight, the other anonymous, yet absolutely essential to the story. Because it takes enormous trust — and humility — to strike that kind of balance.

It’s an act of love, really, to risk sending a metaphorical uppercut when your partner is heading in the wrong direction. Lucky me — I have one of those at home (and a few among my friends too).

In 2022, when I decided to stop working with entrepreneurs, my revenue plummeted. I got plenty of encouragement, yes. But I also got a sharp, honest wake-up call from the man who had taken over our finances so I could keep spinning off into freewheel mode. Right up until the moment when the idea of going back to corporate work landed on the table like a hot potato.

Not once did he say he didn’t believe in me. But he did make me face my mess. And honestly? That honesty saved me.

Because here’s the thing: he’s not a mentor I pay by the hour. He’s not a coach who can walk away if things get too messy. He’s the person who shares my life — which means he also shares the consequences of my risks. My decisions affect our ability to rent or buy a home, to travel, to make family plans. They shape our entire life, not just my business. Which is why I need his courage, his blunt honesty, his ability to stop me from throwing it all away just because I didn’t want to check my numbers closely enough.

Having someone willing to follow you across the country when you want to join a tiny coffee startup nobody’s heard of (hello, the wife of Starbucks’ founder) — that’s priceless. If you find someone who can tell you you’re losing your way, without killing your dream but bringing you back on track, hold on tight. You’ve struck gold.

Complementary qualities

I’ll wrap this up with something essential: these relationships are never one-way. That’s exactly why they work. I owe him the same honesty he gives me — and it’s not always easy. Finding the right words, picking the right moment, risking a clash…

I’m convinced that what makes us closer than ever, twelve years on, is not luck. It’s the result of constant work: to understand each other, to discover each other, to build a relationship where communication flows both ways and nourishes us equally.

I’m naturally the one who thinks everything is possible and gets excited fast — but I can also crash as quickly as a soufflé. He, on the other hand, is steady, consistent — qualities I deeply admire. Where I get impatient and want three months’ worth of results in three days, he’s mastered the art of delaying gratification for the sake of bigger goals. Honestly, I learn so much from that.

And don’t get me started on people-pleasing. I’m the queen of it. Meanwhile, he was born with zero fucks to give about what people think. I envy him every day.

Of course, it goes both ways. He gets stuck overthinking sometimes, while I push him into action. He has his doubts, his dreams, his highs and lows. Yes, the guy’s human. I know I’ve painted him as some kind of superhero here, but trust me: he’s got his flaws too.

✨ Long live the unsung +1s.