Summer didn’t quite go to script this year. In fact, if I were to write a manual on how not to launch an entrepreneurial venture, I’d probably use the last few months as the primary case study.
Coming into the warmer months, the plan was clear: transition out of the daily grind, set up the home grooming shop in the breezeway, and lean fully into building something of my own. We had the whiteboard sessions, the initial layouts, and the drive. But reality has a funny way of stepping in with a heavy boot—sometimes literally.
First came the logistical walls. Between the realities of running a client-facing operation from a residential setup, managing the noise restrictions while Liam worked his night schedule, and realizing the toll it was going to take on the property and our day-to-day sanity, the math simply stopped adding up. I made the tough call to shelve the shop idea.
Then, just as I was processing that pivot, May 23rd happened. A simple misstep off a wooden step at my mom’s house resulted in a shattered left ankle (and a minor fracture on the right for good measure), complete with a titanium plate and nine screws. Suddenly, my world shrunk to the radius of a wheelchair, a walker, and later a cane, keeping me non-weight-bearing and stuck inside for six weeks while Liam and our son carried the weight of running the household.
Being forced to a dead stop when you’re used to moving at full speed is a brutal psychological exercise. With the business dream put to bed and my body completely out of commission, the financial pressure began mounting real quick. Desperate for stability as the bills piled up, I rushed back into the workforce as soon as I could, landing a spot that turned out to be a terrible fit—demanding physical conditions on a joint that wasn’t ready, with an environment that quickly wore me down.
Recognizing that I was running myself into the ground for a dead-end situation, I made the call to hand in my resignation from the new job. It was a humbling pill to swallow, but sometimes stepping back is the only way to figure out where your footing actually is.
Right now, I’m looking at reaching out to get my old job back—a familiar, stable space where I know the ropes and can catch my breath while the ankle continues to heal. Entrepreneurship is often sold as a straight line of relentless hustle, but the real journey usually involves getting knocked flat, stripping away the ego, and figuring out what you actually need just to stay upright.
We’re back to the drawing board, but we’re still here. And as we always say around here, we’ll make it through.