December 3, 2020, was the day I escaped the darkest period of my life—a literal hell.
I was weeks away from filing bankruptcy. My checking account had $19,000 left—not bad on paper, but when your overhead is a minimum of $35,000 per month, it’s a ticking time bomb. Since COVID hit in March, I had bled over $200,000. Every bit of savings, PPP, and disaster relief funding was gone. Yet, I didn’t lay off a single employee. I refused to gamble on losing my team. If they left, my company would collapse. So, I took the financial hit of my life.
Before the pandemic, things looked different. I had spent years building my business from the ground up, pouring everything into it. We had built a strong reputation, landing high-profile events and becoming a trusted name in the industry. On the surface, we were thriving. But behind the scenes, the cracks were already forming.
From the outside, I looked like I was winning. My business was ‘textbook successful’—fully staffed with 18 employees: seven full-time, the rest part-time or seasonal. We were the top event lighting company in Central Virginia. I had removed myself from operations, and people assumed I was just “sitting back, cashing checks.”
The actual work—the long hours, the problem-solving, the creative grind—that was the easy part. I could handle ten-hour days, seven days a week. What I wasn’t prepared for was the weight of managing employees.
With each new hire came more than just an extra set of hands. It meant more overhead, more taxes, more compliance, and—most critically—more lives depending on the decisions I made. My business wasn’t just about providing for my own family; it was about ensuring every person on my payroll had stability, security, and a future they could count on.
Growth didn’t just mean bigger revenue—it meant bigger risks. Each employee wasn’t just a number on a spreadsheet; they had mortgages, families, and dreams. I wasn’t just paying salaries; I was carving out career paths, making choices that determined whether someone thrived or struggled. And when times got tough, the stakes were terrifyingly high.
Early on, when it was just me and a few part-timers, I could take risks freely. If I failed, I failed alone. But with a full-time staff? Their futures were tied to mine. The responsibility was enormous. The only way forward was to expand aggressively, take on even greater financial burdens, and keep pushing. But deep down, I knew I didn’t want to keep playing that game.
The constant pressure to grow—taking bigger risks and always chasing the next milestone—left me wondering: Is this really the only way to succeed?
Beyond the financial strain, I realized my role had shifted. I was no longer doing the creative work I loved. Instead, I was managing expectations, resolving conflicts, and navigating the endless complexities of managing employees. One year, I caved to so many employee requests that I racked up $80,000 in discretionary spending—most of our profit gone in an instant.
And then there were the hires that didn’t work out. A single toxic employee can quietly erode everything you’ve built, and by the time you see the damage, it’s already too late. I learned that lesson the hard way.
The reality was clear: success didn’t have to look like this. The traditional model of scaling through employees wasn’t the only path forward. And for me, it wasn’t the right one.
That realization didn’t happen overnight. It took years of trying to figure out my next move—years of second-guessing, of wondering if I’d ever find the kind of success that didn’t come at the cost of my sanity.
I landed my first web design client. No employees. No overhead. Just me, my skills, and a client who needed help.
And suddenly, I was back to what I loved: creating, solving problems, and making an impact—without the crushing weight of payroll, HR, or office politics.
That’s when I realized something powerful.
We live in an era where you don’t have to build a massive company to be successful. You don’t have to hire employees and take on crushing burdens. You can work independently, collaborate with other freelancers, and still make an impact.
For years, I believed entrepreneurship meant managing employees. I thought growth required staff, offices, and endless stress.
I was wrong.
Success doesn’t have to come at the cost of your peace of mind. There are many ways to build, and for me, this path allows for more freedom, creativity, and fulfillment.
After everything, I’m finally building a business I love.
I’ve spent the last 16 years learning what works (and what doesn’t) when it comes to building a business that actually serves your life—not the other way around. Now, I’m sharing those hard-earned lessons, insights, and time-tested strategies with creatives, freelancers, and business owners who want to do the same.
If you’re ready to build smarter, grow without the overwhelm, and create a business that aligns with your life and goals, come be part of the conversation. You'll get insider insights from my personal journey, proven strategies for marketing and business growth, and exclusive invites to special events and online workshops.
Let’s build something that works for you—not just your bottom line.