Thank you, Instacart

Instacart became $CART yesterday. There are so many emotions. Pride. Joy. Optimism.

But most of all, I feel gratitude. Profound and intense gratitude.

Instacart has given me so many things, but the first thing was a chance. The original job spec called for an experienced operating executive who had built teams and helped scale companies. I had never operated and had precisely zero direct reports at KKR. Somehow, Apoorva decided to give me an offer anyway. I am grateful.

When I joined the company, I heard the stories from the earliest days. Getting rejected by YC and finding a way to get in anyway (by sending a partner a 6-pack of beer!). Trying everything to get the Trader Joe’s catalog to put the store online to no avail…and finding a way to bring them online anyway by buying every single item in the store.

I learned that cultures are built through stories. I learned that Instacart’s culture was one of resilience and relentlessness. I also learned that you could fall in love with a company.

We would need every ounce of that resilience and relentlessness in the coming years. In 2015, we were losing $15 on every order. We had less than a year of cash. We went all in on fixing our unit economics and set seemingly impossible goals for the team. Over the next year we broke down every aspect of our business. And along the way we went from losing $15 an order to making $3 an order.

The team showed me the value of focus. They taught me the magic that was possible when you combined shared purpose and unreasonably high expectations.

When Amazon bought Whole Foods, everyone wrote of Instacart’s demise. It made sense. Whole Foods was a significant portion of our volume and Amazon was Amazon. It was scary as hell. But instead of letting it kill us, we used it as a catalyst to sign nearly every important grocer in the country.

I learned that even if you’re terrified, there is always a move to be made. And I learned that resilient teams write their own stories.

Shortly thereafter, we experienced a horrible press cycle. It was only a week but it felt like we couldn’t find our way out of it. We went through an intense all hands going through everything that had been written. It left us spent. We weren’t sure how it landed with the team. I went for a walk afterwards and returned to an email from one of our general managers. It said he was proud to work at our company. That he was proud to work with us. I cried at my desk. I’m tearing up right now.

I learned that titles don’t make leaders. I learned that it’s people wanting to follow you that makes you a leader. I learned that there is no greater joy as a leader than when you have a team that is better than you. That is a lesson I have been lucky enough to experience every day I have been associated with Instacart.

There are countless other stories from Instacart’s crucible moments. People sleeping with their computers to ensure they were there for customers and shoppers during the craziness of Covid. Treating employees right by being one of the only private companies to mark the equity in line with public market comps. Building a company that is strong enough to go public in any market. So many more.

It’s been eight years since I started at Instacart. I will forever be grateful for the lessons of those years. Shared purpose. Resilience. Relentlessness. Leadership and followership. Bringing joy.

But I’m most grateful for the journey. For the ups and downs. For the friends that have turned into family. For the stories. Those that I tell founders, those that I tell my friends, and those that I tell my kids. For the character that was built and revealed. For cementing my belief that earned success is the key to happiness.

For my teammates.

When I decided to leave KKR to go to Instacart, Henry Kravis asked me to fly to New York to come see him. He sat me down in his office. I thought he was going to try and convince me to stay. I was wrong. He had brought me there to congratulate me in person. He wanted to share the story of how he and George started KKR. He said he respected my desire to go help build something.

But somehow, Henry’s masterclass in leadership wasn’t the most memorable thing about the meeting. Instead it was what he said as he was walking me out.

“How old are you, Ravi?”

I told him I was 33. He leaned his head back and said, almost to himself, “I would do anything to be 33 again…I would do anything to do it over again.”

I didn’t understand it then. I do now.

Thank you, Instacart. It’s been the ride of a lifetime. I’m so grateful to Fidji for allowing me to still have a seat on it. Especially because I know your best days are still ahead.