Fourteen years of Dragonfly: From start-up sparks to summit sunrises
When I look back over the past fourteen years of Dragonfly, I have to pinch myself - has it really been that long? It feels like only yesterday I was knee-deep in business plans, spreadsheets, and mild panic. Everyone says the early years are the hardest - “the start-up years!” - as if there’s a warning label attached. Building a business from scratch, finding clients, signing contracts, convincing banks I was, in fact, a real person… all new territory.
But honestly? Those first few years didn’t feel like the hardest at all. They were electrifying. I was running on pure excitement and a stubborn refusal to fail. Hard work? Absolutely. Sleep deprivation? Naturally. But those first twelve years flew by in a blur of growth, success, and gratitude – a chapter that fills me with enormous pride whenever I stop long enough to look back.
Well, fear and perhaps the occasional mountain. But I’ll get to that.
If the first twelve years were a thrill ride, the past two have been an obstacle course with blindfolds, plot twists, and the occasional detour. They’ve been my true test of resilience and adaptability. Change has a funny way of barging in uninvited and rearranging all your carefully placed plans. It demanded reinvention, reflection, and a level of grit I didn’t know I had.
There were moments I could’ve thrown in the towel – but that’s not really my style. Instead, I did what I do best: rolled up my sleeves, plastered on a grin (the kind that says “I’ve got this… probably”), and got to work. Passion doesn’t let you walk away. It keeps you fighting for what you believe in and Dragonfly has always been worth fighting for.
And speaking of mountains… I’m terrified of heights. I don’t just mean “a bit uneasy on a ladder”—I mean the kind of fear where my knees start shaking faster than a washing machine on spin cycle. So naturally, I decided to climb Table Mountain via Skeleton Gorge. (Because clearly, I’m a glutton for metaphorical and literal punishment.)
Having walked across the Arctic, I naively thought, How hard can it be? Spoiler alert: VERY. It was hiking, scrambling, ladders, waterfalls, and – somehow – swimming. I channelled every ounce of positive mindset I had, muttering to myself like a motivational podcast gone rogue:
And in that climb, somewhere between the jelly legs and the burning lungs, I found perspective. Every step felt like the past two years in business—gruelling, unpredictable, but inching ever closer to something extraordinary. When I finally reached the summit, I took a deep breath (and maybe shed a small, sweaty tear) and thanked the mountain—for keeping me safe, for reminding me of my strength, and for mirroring life’s toughest climbs.
The view? Worth every single step. The celebration? Drinks, a braai, and a sunrise over Cape Town that words can’t do justice to.
It was a moment I’ll never forget. A reminder that with determination, humour, and maybe a slightly questionable sense of adventure, anything is possible.
And yes… I’ll absolutely do it again.
With love,
Vicky x
