Two Ambitions, One Family: What I Learned as the Partner of an INSEAD MBA

Adrien Hardy

An Ironman, a 5,000-metre summit and 40+ podcast conversations taught me the difference between achievement and fulfilment. Becoming an INSEAD partner taught me who pays for it.

When Constance received her INSEAD admission, I felt two things at once. Pride. And a quiet question I did not dare ask out loud: what happens to my ambition now?

I am not the student. I am the partner. On 28 December, we leave Fontainebleau, home of INSEAD's Europe campus, for Singapore and the next stage of her MBA. Our baby comes with us. So do my projects, my podcast, and a question I have chased for most of my adult life: what does success actually cost?

The race I thought I had to win

For years, ambition was a finish line. An engineering degree. Real Estate project manager at Bouygues Immobilier. Then international investment at La Française, working on more than €3bn of real estate transactions across Europe and Asia. Then founder of a real estate tech start-up Algae. Then an Ironman.

During my Ironman, I kept repeating one sentence to myself: “Smile and do it. You're alive.” It was a reminder to stay present, rather than obsess over the finish line.

I want to bring that same mindset into our next chapter at INSEAD. Moving to Singapore with a young child, managing our home in France and continuing to build our respective projects will require organisation. But above all, it is an extraordinary opportunity to support each other's dreams.

I crossed the line. I remember the medal less than what came three days later: a strange emptiness. The goal was achieved. Nothing fundamental had changed.

That was my first lesson on the hidden cost of ambition. Achievement is a moment; fulfilment is a practice. Confuse the two, and you keep signing up for bigger races to chase a feeling a finish line was never designed to give.

40 conversations, one recurring pattern

I started the podcast Aventuriers de la Vie to understand people who build lives on their own terms: entrepreneurs, explorers, athletes, artists. More than 40 conversations and 500,000 listens later, three lessons keep coming back.

  1. The most fulfilled guests did not have smaller ambitions. They had chosen ones. Tim Vieira, entrepreneur and investor on Shark Tank Portugal, put it simply: his hotels and property projects “were fine, but they weren’t what was going to make me happy.” So he slowly stepped back from almost everything and built the school he wanted for his own children.
  2. Freedom is rarely one big leap. It is a series of reversible experiments. Pierre Kosciusko-Morizet, who co-founded PriceMinister and sold it at 33, told me he never felt he had taken a real risk: “If you fail, you can always go back to a big company with a monthly salary.” Today he avoids long commitments, so he can stop anything at any moment. If he keeps going, it is because he truly wants to.
  3. The cost of ambition is almost never paid alone. When Laurent Gounelle, the best-selling author, was fired and then watched his first business fail, he called himself “the perfect loser.” Yet his friends had not left him, nor had his family. That, he told me, is when he felt free, and finally knew what he wanted to do. Partners, children and friends co-sign the loan.

I understood that third lesson fully only when the ambition at the centre of our family was no longer mine.

When the ambition is not yours - supporting someone else is also your own choice

A friend recently told me something that stayed with me: “I feel like lately, you've been following your partner's decisions rather than making your own.”

It made me think.

Was I putting my own ambitions aside? Or was I making a conscious choice to support someone I love?

I believe that one of the most beautiful things about a relationship is helping each other grow. Supporting your partner's dreams doesn't necessarily mean sacrificing your own. Sometimes, it means creating the conditions for both to flourish, even if the timing isn't always perfectly balanced.

I also recognise how fortunate I am. Building my own businesses has given me something incredibly valuable: freedom over my schedule and the ability to work from almost anywhere. That flexibility makes it possible for me to support Constance's INSEAD journey while continuing to pursue my own projects.

Moving to Singapore isn't simply following her dream. It's a choice we're making together, and an opportunity for each of us to grow in different ways.

Perhaps that's another form of ambition: not just building the life you want for yourself, but building one in which the person you love can thrive too.

Three things helped.

We negotiated instead of assuming. Constance and I put everything on the table: calendar, money, childcare, who carries what during the hardest weeks. We try to be completely transparent to each other and sharing our doubts.

I gave myself a project, not just a role. INSEAD made that easier than I expected. This summer I joined the INSEAD AI Venture Lab summer camp, a 10-week sprint run with

Audos where non-technical founders build AI-native businesses. I went in as "the partner". I came out with clearer vision for my platform Kairos, wonderful encounters.

We chose shared adventure over parallel lives. A few months ago I climbed Mount Kazbek, 5,054 metres, in Georgia, with my friend Thomas. Every mountaineer learns the same rule: the summit is optional, the descent is mandatory. It has become our family rule for this year. The MBA is the summit. The family is the descent.

KAZBEK - A Leap Into The Unknown, documentary on YouTube

What I would tell couples considering INSEAD

  • Have the cost conversation before the admission letter. Write down what each of you gives up, and what each of you wants to build.
  • Give the partner a project, not just a role. A venture, a sport, a club, a cause. Identity needs a place to grow, even far from home.
  • Define fulfilment together. Grades, offers and salaries will measure the MBA. Decide what will measure the year for your family.
  • Plan the descent. The end of the programme is a transition for both of you, not only for the graduate.

The question I ask now

I still love ambitious goals. I will probably sign up for another race. Hyrox Milan in a few weeks and Singapore Triathlon T100 in April 2027. But the question has changed. I no longer ask: what do I want to achieve? I ask: who do I want to become while achieving it, and who comes with me?

That question is now my work, through my podcast and the experiences I design for executives who are successful on paper but feel stuck. This year, it is also our family's question. Two ambitions, one family, and a new island on the other side of the world.

This year, we are not simply moving to Singapore for an MBA. We are learning how to build a life in which neither of us has to give up on becoming who we want to be.

Two ambitions. One family. And perhaps a different definition of success.

Because the question is no longer just what I want to achieve. It is who I want to become along the way — and who I want beside me.