IN 2005, WHEN I was 27, I started working in the customer-service department at a reputable insurance company. I was focused, fully intent on climbing the corporate ladder: Pouring my mind, heart and soul into this company — taking courses that increased my chances of promotion; talking up the business while traveling around the country — was a priority for me. Within four years, this would prove to have been a mistake.
In 2006, my second child, Malikai Elijah, was born, and I made up my mind to start a side business of some kind to help build savings and clean up my credit. My ultimate plan? Affluence — and to buy a home for my family and me. Unfortunately, life had a plan of its own.

Two Unexpected Pregnancies
Change came quickly in 2007. By this point, I had researched my side business for a year, and dabbled in T-shirt sales. I took a serious liking to apparel-and-novelty companies like Johnny Cupcakes, Kid Robot, BBC Ice Cream, Paul Frank, Sanrio, Tokidoki, LRG and many more.
After my son Malikai was born, I vowed never to have another kid. Going from no children, sleep whenever I wanted it, free time and an active social life to being a parent . . . well, after Malikai was born, all that changed. I had to grow up and change my habits — quickly. It was all about my new baby; the focus was off Eric and on Malikai. Raising a child is excruciating, maybe the purest testament to human will and endurance, but I nonetheless have a tight connection with Malikai, a connection I'd never felt before he was born.

Then I found out we were pregnant with Makiah. That was my clue to get a vasectomy, but I didn’t (I’m a Scorpio; I’m stubborn) — and in 2008, the mother of my children gave birth to M’kiela, our third. Raising one kid, I discovered, is a cakewalk compared to raising three, all under age 5, while trying to start a business — yet they’ve given me the drive and desire to secure their financial future. They’ve added the fuel I need to get through anything. I never want to have to get “permission” to take a day off when my child is sick. My kids therefore force me, unwittingly, to do whatever it takes to get where I want us to be in life. They keep me at home instead of hitting the clubs; they keep me focused on studying the lives and careers of other entrepreneurs who accomplished what they set out to do. They provide all the ingredients for my entrepreneurial recipe. They are, in a word, my reason “Why.”

Taking responsibility for my actions and vowing to be the best dad I could be meant taking my dreams to the next level, too. Throughout both unexpected pregnancies — not to mention the later trauma induced by raising toddlers and infants simultaneously — I studied people like Robert Kiyosaki (Rich Dad, Poor Dad) intently. Darren Hardy, the founder of Success magazine, became a mentor through audiobooks, as well as through several books published by self-help gurus I first read about in his magazine. I became extremely interested in the successes (and failures) of the affluent, and came to love reading about people who took extraordinary risks to accomplish extraordinary things, in both life and business.

I was already working two full-time jobs, but I decided, in essence, to keep one for my family and one for my side business. I bought a Mercedes E320 and moved us into a three-bedroom, three-bathroom condo. Unfortunately, I had no time at all to enjoy the fruits of my labor, given my 80-hour workweeks.

New Pursuits
In 2008, I tried my hand at network marketing to pull in some extra income and build up my tolerance for rejection, and I also grew as a person — weeding out negativity, learning how to speak to people. But I had two problems with the company I was with: I had no control, and I just didn't believe in the product. I was burned out from two jobs and getting eaten alive by expenses, and I had to do something drastic to save money. So I moved my family to Hawaii, where my kids' mother's relatives lived — but a year later, due to an intractable domestic situation, I had to fly them back to Los Angeles with me. To make matters worse, while they were away I hadn't been able to start my business, as I was responsible for 75 percent of their living costs. (The government picked up the rest.)
While working two jobs, I consumed anything I could (within reason) to stay awake: Red Bull, Monster, Rock Star, 5 Hour Energy.

It was a very stressful time — but my "Why" kept me going strong. And when I asked my doctor for that scrip, her reply was fateful: She told me to quit a job and get off the energy drinks, replacing them with coffee so I could avoid withdrawal symptoms. So I quit one gig and continued my search for an entrepreneurial business I could use to supplement my income.

By that same year, 2008, the insurance company I worked for was on the verge of bankruptcy, under significant public scrutiny after having been bailed out by the federal government. It was soon sold, and in 2009, the buyer laid off everyone in my office.

So I had quit one job at my doctor's behest, and my other one had just laid me off. Talk about tough luck — but I didn't despair or take anything personally. I simply looked for the positives in my situation. No matter how bad things seem, you can always find a positive reference point to focus on. I never made a dime in network marketing, but it did teach me how to be positive in any circumstance. For example: By this point I had also lost two vehicles, one of which was that Mercedes. But I learned quickly that I did not need to be a prisoner of my possessions. I can be left with nothing, and I'll be fine with that, because with commitment, education and drive, I can get whatever I want in this world.

I soon decided — drawing especially on what I had learned from Kiyosaki — that my business would be something that had been done before, but in a half-assed way. Whatever I created or sold, I wanted to brand the concept close to perfection. I wanted to integrate my love for coffee — which had helped me get through some of my most trying times — with my acquired knowledge of business, in particular the fashion industry. College students who love coffee — pardon the redundancy — would be a great market, as would high-school kids and others who like creative, trendy products. Coffee T-shirts would be a good start, but they wouldn't be enough: I had to build a brand of novelties and gifts for coffee lovers and fashion-forward people alike.

I did many drawings — sample tees I called "Javashirts" — that got a positive response. All I needed was a brand name. Studying Disney and Sanrio proved to me that characters that were the face of a brand could do much, much more for a that brand than just another faceless product, no matter how good.

Yet I couldn't think of the perfect name. Then one day I was at the coffee pot at work (my favorite spot in the office), and a coworker, seeing me there, shouted, "Java boy!" I assume she could see the light bulb that flicked on over my head. I did some online research and found a few computer companies that made mention of "Java Boy," but no one in either the fashion or, surprisingly, coffee industries had snagged it. I altered the spelling — Javaboi — and built the brand over time based on my own creativity and the surveys I doled out to people at Starbucks and The Coffee Bean. By this point, though, the national recession was in full swing, and I was still living with four other people in a studio apartment. Clearly, I still had a long way to go.

Blessing in Disguise
The mother of my kids, who had been a stay-at-home mom for the last few years, decided she wanted to go back to work, and soon took a day job that provided just enough to cover our bills. I had to make a decision: Should I continue pursuing my dream, or get another job? A job would mean security, but would also control my life. If I were to follow my dream, I'd be sacrificing money — but I had already lost most of my material possessions, so I had no real desire for a job that would just offer a check with which I could pay bills and occasionally buy some toy (a.k.a. a liability). Most of the self-help gurus I had studied would counsel me against that route — so I chose to use my unemployment to make things happen by building my brand.

I found a local printer, and decided to begin with my area of expertise — those Javashirts. Over the next year, I found all of my suppliers, and my passion for Kiyosaki led me down one especially fortuitous path: Kiyosaki pioneered a concept he calls "The Cash Flow Quadrant" and invented a board game called Cash Flow, and as I result I stumbled upon a company called TheCASHFLOW, which provides business education and mentoring — and, crucially, startup grants — to young urban entrepreneurs. I applied; they did their due diligence on Javaboi; they gave me a $10,000 grant, as well as providing mentoring from TheCASHFLOW's founders and other successful CEOs.

Along the way, I met a woman named Monique Danforth, a well-respected makeup artist and executive with Walk Industries, an Orange County, California–based business that produces fashion events. She agreed to produce my fashion shows to help Javaboi gain traction, and I'm so grateful to have her as a friend.

While looking online for models to wear Javaboi on the runway, meanwhile, I came across a fantastic YouTube video, "What's in My Purse?", produced by Kandee Johnson, a well-known celebrity-makeup artist. She radiated positivity, and when I saw her "My Story" video, I was hooked. We had a lot in common — our drive, our desire to succeed against all odds under any circumstances, our undying love for children, even our last name. I sent her some photos of my products and a few pictures of my cute kids (that's always a deal clincher), and I expressed how much I admired her twin successes as a mother and entrepreneur. She told me she'd be happy to model for my first photo shoot — she was five months pregnant at the time, but she still looked amazing in my Javashirts!