Meet Eric Bahn, Founding Partner at the Hustle Fund

Eric Bahn, Founding Partner at Hustle Fund

For this interview, we sit down with Eric Bahn, Founding Partner at Hustle Fund, for a candid and wide-ranging conversation about his unconventional journey into venture capital. Born and raised in Detroit to Korean immigrant parents, Eric shares how his upbringing, early career pivots, and deep personal relationships shaped his path from aspiring writer to tech entrepreneur to VC. He opens up about the philosophy behind Hustle Fund—why hustle, not pedigree, is the best predictor of founder success—and how that belief drives their inclusive investment strategy. Eric also discusses his passion for women’s health innovation, the mental health lessons he learned through therapy, and the complex identity of being Asian American in Silicon Valley. With reflections on fasting, faith, and finding purpose, this interview offers a rare blend of professional insight and personal depth.  Judy: Can you tell us about your cultural background and how it shaped your journey into venture capital?

Eric: I’m ethnically Korean, born and raised in Detroit, Michigan. My parents immigrated from South Korea in the late ’60s or early ’70s, chasing the American dream like so many others. My dad was a doctor, and my mom was a homemaker. We lived in a wooded suburb of Detroit, which was a bit of an odd place to grow up as an Asian American kid in the ’80s and ’90s. Detroit had already seen its industrial decline, and we were one of the few Asian families in the area. That sense of being “other” was always there, even if I didn’t fully understand it at the time.

My parents, like many first-generation immigrants, practiced a kind of quiet resilience. They didn’t talk about the trauma they carried—my dad served in the Vietnam War, and both of them lived through the Korean War. Instead, they focused on creating a stable, opportunity-filled life for my sister and me. My mom was definitely a tiger mom—strict, demanding, and laser-focused on academic success. My dad worked long hours, so I didn’t see him much growing up. But their form of love was sacrifice, and their way of showing support was setting a high bar.

That upbringing instilled in me a deep sense of responsibility—to honor their sacrifices, to succeed in a way that made it all worth it. But it also came with pressure. There’s this unspoken expectation in many Asian households: become a doctor, lawyer, or engineer. Something stable. Something prestigious. Something safe. Venture capital was none of those things.

For a long time, I tried to follow that path. I went to Stanford thinking I’d be a writer or a lawyer. But over time, I realized I wasn’t living for myself—I was living to fulfill a script someone else had written. That realization didn’t come easily. It took years of trial and error, failed startups, and personal growth to finally choose a path that felt authentic.

Ironically, it was that same cultural background—rooted in discipline, humility, and a scarcity mindset—that helped me thrive in the startup world. Founders often have to do more with less, and that’s something I understood deeply. At Hustle Fund, we talk a lot about hustle—about execution, grit, and velocity. Those values are baked into my DNA, shaped by my parents’ journey and the quiet strength they modeled every day.

So while I never planned to become a VC, I now see how my cultural background didn’t just influence my path—it prepared me for it.

Judy: What were some pivotal moments that influenced your career path?

Eric: There’s a phrase I love and often reflect on: “Small hinges swing wide doors.” It’s such a powerful way to think about life’s journey. Sometimes, it’s an experience you have or a person you meet that doesn’t even feel that consequential at the time. But in hindsight, you look back and realize—oh my gosh, that moment completely changed the trajectory of your life.

For me, one of the biggest “small hinge” moments happened during the very first week of college. On day one, I met my wife—she was my neighbor in the dorms. She didn’t know it then, but I was already thinking, “This hottie right here? I’m going to track her.” (laughs) Then, on day two, I sat next to Elizabeth, who would later become one of my co-founders, in a math class. And not long after, I met Shiyan, another future co-founder. These women have been in my life for over 25 years now—not just as business partners, but as chosen family. We’ve built companies together, invested in each other’s ventures, and become so close that they can order food and wine for me at a restaurant without asking. That kind of deep, intuitive connection is rare.

I never came to Stanford thinking I’d go into tech. I thought I’d be a writer or maybe a lawyer. But those early relationships, those “small hinges,” opened doors I never could have imagined. They gave me the confidence and support to believe I could build something meaningful, even without a technical background or a clear plan. Looking back, those first few days of college were the quiet beginning of everything that followed.

Judy: What was your early career like before founding Hustle Fund?

Eric: Honestly, my early career was anything but linear or polished. I was a pretty unremarkable student at Stanford—burnt out from the tiger mom years of high school and middle school. I didn’t do clubs, internships, or summer jobs. I partied a lot and played video games. I was a very privileged kid who didn’t quite know what he wanted to do.

By senior year, I was lost. I had no plan. But a good friend vouched for me and helped me land a spot in Intuit’s rotational leadership program. That was a turning point. I got to rotate through marketing, product, and design, and it gave me a front-row seat to how a great business operates from the inside. That experience gave me the foundation I didn’t know I needed.

After four years at Intuit, I co-founded my first company in the education space with my wife. We ran it for nine years and had our first exit in 2012. From there, I went on to start a media company with Elizabeth (one of my future Hustle Fund co-founders), which also had a great outcome. Then I launched a children’s book company with my sister, and later, a failed video game startup—because every founder needs at least one failure under their belt.

I also did a stint as a product manager at Instagram, which was my last “real job.” I took it mainly because my wife was pregnant and I needed health insurance. It was a cool experience, but by then I knew I wanted to build something of my own again. That led to Hustle Fund in 2017.

Looking back, none of it was planned. I didn’t follow a roadmap. I just kept following what felt exciting and meaningful at the time. And somehow, all those twists and turns added up to something that made sense.

Judy: What inspired you to start Hustle Fund?

Eric: It wasn’t something I set out to do. In fact, I never had any intention of becoming a venture capitalist. Most of my experiences with VCs as a founder were negative—even the ones who invested in me. So starting a fund was never the goal.

But in 2016, I spent a year at 500 Startups as an entrepreneur-in-residence. I went in thinking I’d launch another company, and I had a bunch of ideas I was exploring. But as I started doing customer discovery, I realized there were already people—often younger, sharper, and more energized—building in those spaces. That was a humbling moment. I started to think maybe my role wasn’t to build the next thing, but to support the people who were.

At the same time, I was helping run batches of founders through the accelerator, and I noticed a pattern. The founders who stood out weren’t necessarily the ones with the best resumes or pedigrees—they were the ones who executed fast, learned quickly, and kept moving. I started calling that quality “hustle”—great execution at high velocity.

That insight became the foundation for Hustle Fund. We built the firm around the belief that great hustlers can come from anywhere and look like anyone. And when you focus on hustle, inclusion happens naturally. Today, our largest checks go to companies that are 50% women-led, 27% underrepresented founders, and 60% outside of Silicon Valley. We didn’t set quotas—we just optimized for hustle, and this is what emerged.

So, Hustle Fund wasn’t born from a desire to be in VC. It came from a desire to back the kinds of founders I wish I had more of when I was building - people who are scrappy, fast, and relentless, regardless of what their LinkedIn looks like.

Judy: What’s one investment that taught you the most?

Eric: One that really stands out is our investment in Tara Viswanathan, the founder of Rupa Health. When we first backed her, she was working on something completely different—still in the same general market, but a very different product. I wasn’t excited about the original idea, but what struck me was her learning velocity. She was one of those rare founders who could absorb feedback, iterate quickly, and just keep going.

For about two years, it looked like the company was stagnating. But Tara kept running experiments, refining her approach, and eventually landed on a lab order infrastructure product that took off. At one point, she was doing something like a billion dollars in GMV annually. It was a massive turnaround.

That experience reinforced a core belief for me as a pre-seed investor: it’s all about the team. You have to be okay with pivots. You’re not betting on the idea—they almost always change. You’re betting on the founder’s ability to figure it out.

It also reminded me of the following quote: to make a lot of money in business, you have to be both contrarian and right. In the early days, no one wanted to touch Rupa. People didn’t get it. But once it clicked, everyone suddenly wanted in. That kind of patience—trusting your conviction even when others don’t—is something I try to instill in our team every day.

Judy: What sectors or trends are you most excited about right now?

Eric: Women’s health is a huge area of interest. It’s historically underfunded and misunderstood. In the U.S., there’s still a lot of stigma around topics like menstruation and endometriosis. I’m fascinated by how technology can empower women to self-diagnose and manage their health.

We’ve invested in companies like Mellie Clinic (focused on pre- and postnatal care) and Anya (cord blood storage). I also believe that discomfort among male VCs around these topics creates a competitive advantage for us—less competition, more opportunity.

Judy: Do you invest globally or primarily in the U.S.?

Eric: About 75–80% of our investments are in the U.S. The rest are mostly in Southeast Asia, where we see a lot of growth and opportunity. We also have a few investments in Latin America and Africa, but those are more selective.

Judy: What would you be doing if you weren’t in venture capital?

Eric: I think I’d be a school teacher. That’s something I’ve always felt drawn to—shaping young minds, being a positive role model, especially for kids who might be going through tough stuff at home. I actually came really close to going down the education path back in college. It’s still something I think about from time to time. I’m not sure if venture capital is my forever thing.

I love being a dad, and I love teaching. There’s something incredibly fulfilling about helping someone grow, giving them the tools and encouragement to believe in themselves. That kind of impact—quiet, personal, long-term—is really meaningful to me. So yeah, if I weren’t doing this, I’d probably be in a classroom somewhere, trying to make a difference in a different way.

Judy: What daily habits or rituals help you stay focused and grounded?

Eric: Fasting has been a big one—24-hour fasts once a week and intermittent fasting otherwise. It’s helped me lose weight and reframe how I think about hunger. Instead of focusing on how hungry I am, I ask myself how full I feel. That mindset shift has been powerful.

I’ve also reconnected with prayer. I grew up Catholic but only recently started praying again. Now I ask, “What do I need to do to achieve this?” instead of just asking for things. It’s helped me feel more grounded and purposeful.

Judy: Can you share a failure or rejection that turned out to be a blessing?

Eric: Not seeking therapy earlier in life is one of those things I look back on and think, I really should’ve done that sooner. For a long time, I didn’t take mental health seriously. Like a lot of founders, I just white-knuckled my way through stress, burnout, and emotional exhaustion. It wasn’t until COVID hit that I finally admitted to myself, I feel really, really sad right now.

That’s when I started working with a clinical psychologist and joined a group that helped me process a lot of things I had buried. One of the most powerful lessons I learned was the concept of “sabotaging voices”—that inner critic that tells you you’re not good enough, that you don’t belong, that you’re going to fail. Once I learned to name that voice, I could start to separate it from my actual self. It was like going from black-and-white TV to color—I could suddenly see what was happening in my own mind with more clarity.

I realized that a lot of those voices came from a very primal part of the brain—the fight-or-flight response. And once I could identify them, I could choose whether or not to listen. Before that, I just assumed, this is my brain, this is how I think. But it wasn’t. It was fear talking.

I wish I had given myself permission to seek help 10 years earlier. It would’ve saved me a lot of mental and physical pain. But in a way, the delay was a blessing. It taught me empathy. It made me a better leader, a better dad, and a better human. And now, I try to normalize that conversation—especially in a world like Silicon Valley, where for so long the culture was all about “crushing it” and pretending everything’s fine. Sometimes the most powerful thing you can say is, I’m not crushing it—and that’s okay.

Judy: Have you faced unique challenges as an Asian investor in venture capital?

Eric: Yes, and it’s complicated. One thing I’ve noticed is that people tend to gravitate toward others who look like them or share similar backgrounds—it’s just human nature. So when I look at our LP base at Hustle Fund, it’s heavily weighted toward Asian Americans and Southeast Asians. That wasn’t intentional, but it makes sense when you consider that all three of our general partners are East or Southeast Asian. Like attracts like.

But that dynamic also reveals something deeper. We’re one of the few women-led funds in the U.S.—two out of our three GPs are women, and 60% of our team is women. As a result, we see a lot of deal flow from female founders. That’s taught me that diversity isn’t just a moral imperative—it’s a competitive advantage. If you want to win deals across the board, it helps if someone on your team looks like the founder you’re trying to back. People want to work with those who understand their lived experience.

That said, there are still subtle and not-so-subtle challenges. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve heard LPs tell emerging managers—especially women or underrepresented GPs—that they should “hire a white guy” to make their team look more credible. It’s a deeply frustrating piece of advice, but it reflects a persistent perception in the industry: that certain pedigrees and phenotypes still signal “safety” to institutional capital.

For Asian Americans in particular, it’s a strange place to be. Statistically, we’re underrepresented in leadership roles, but we’re also often seen as adjacent to the dominant group. We’re close—but not quite close enough. That creates a kind of identity limbo. You’re not fully included, but you’re also not fully excluded. It’s a subtle form of othering that’s hard to name but easy to feel.

So yes, there are challenges. But there are also opportunities—to build something different, to lead with authenticity, and to show that inclusion isn’t just good ethics—it’s good business.