Am I really in business?
(Firstly, yes. But sometimes it feels like I’m just pretending—like it’s just another image in my mind that doesn’t match up to reality.)
When we decided to move to a new state and start over, it seemed like the perfect time to go into business for ourselves.
We had a plan. We had the money. All we needed to do was do it. Or so we thought.
I have the skills required and found within myself that drive I hadn’t seen in over a decade. I was all-in. My wife was all-in. And we had a good backup plan, with a timetable to take away all the stress. Or so we thought.
Life is funny. God is funny. As soon as you make a decision—a good one—that’s when life starts to push you, to stretch you. It’s as if to say, “You’ve got it all figured out, do you? We’ll see about that.”
So, the challenges began coming our way on day one.
(Now, before you get to thinking this is a downer… Well, it is if you let it be. That is the point. As you’ll note from the title, Am I really in business?, the answer depends on what you (I, in this case) decide. Read on.)
I won’t list the challenges in full. I couldn’t if I tried. Instead, I’ll paint a picture that I hope will have meaning for both the established and seasoned entrepreneur as well as the first-time business folks (like me) who have never done this before and don’t come from a business background.
At the time of this life change, my wife and I were in our early 40s:
My wife, having been the career-minded breadwinner in our relationship, the one with education and a solid work ethic driven by having type 1 diabetes since she was eight years old, knows how to survive the corporate world because she has had to, in order to have health insurance and a comfortable wage—enough for the house, the picket fence, and so on.
And then there’s me, an emotionally burned-out Asperger’s case who has basically lived by the grace of others all my life. I never minded it before, though. I had been working in my trade in a small way for roughly 15 years, and though I know the work inside and out, how much I know about the business is still a mystery being uncovered and learned.
Neither of us had ever owned or run a business before. Working for others is always easier than taking on all the risk yourself. It’s a good gig if you aren’t driven to something more—which was the case for me most of my life.
Neither of us went to business school. I myself never attended K-12 regularly and ended up getting my GED at 23 so I could take classes at community college. At first, I pursued an associate’s degree in psychology, but after realizing the number of years’ worth of general education credits I’d have to catch up on, I decided college was better spent on other personal interests.
I spent my twenties working part-time and taking a variety of classes on theater, writing, health, and anything that struck me as fun whenever I could. I tried to maximize my learning with speed reading, but my dyslexia and ADD proved too much to overcome at the time.
Eventually, I settled into a job working as a line cook at a pool hall, where I ended my five or so years there as a manager in title only (right before the place closed down due to mismanagement). Luckily, it was through that pool hall that I met the artists who mentored me as a framer and taught me the trade I now hinge my life on.
My wife was on an upward career path shortly after we began dating. She made better money than me, and it just never made sense to do anything other than support her career opportunities as they came up. It was a minimal-risk, big-reward trajectory most of the time—but as things eventually began not paying off and demanding more, we found ourselves wanting a new dynamic.
In 2024, our little dog passed away. That winter, my wife’s corporate life ground to a somewhat shocking halt, and she took a new job with a pay cut. She liked the job and settled in fine, but that little dog left a hole in our lives. Sometime after his death, we decided to sell the house and seek out a new start.
I was done working part-time, and my health was failing. I did not handle the loss well. We sold ASAP, packed up our remaining elderly dog, and hit the road. Truth be told, I just couldn’t live there anymore—we had this peach tree… Turbo (R.I.P.) loved that tree. I had to cut it down the year before because he had taken to eating the pits.
We closed on our new property on October 2 that same year. Sight unseen.
The challenges:
The car broke down mid-trip. Dropped 10k on a replacement in the middle of nowhere. A trailer burned up on the return trip and had to be abandoned on the road. The house looked good in pictures but needed immediate work—another 6k, plus a lot of effort spent remodeling (this wasn’t hired out). A variety of other expenses and time spent riding out heavy rain over the winter months… rural living stuff. Oh, and the best derailment of all: a welcome surprise baby on the way. (There goes the budget.)
Still having health and back problems, losing my helper for physical labor just pushed everything back. Before we knew it, it was spring, and we still had no shop.
My wife was able to take her job remote, so that helped—but they fired her a month before the baby was due (another massive dent in the budget, which was barely enough to get through the summer months). And for the kicker? Within a month of my wife getting fired, our 16-year-old pup took ill and had to be put down.
It’s been quite a roller coaster. And I haven’t even gone over the business side of it all. (Perhaps that’s another post.)
A few weeks after we settled here (early December), a small kitten emerged out of the rain. He had followed home one of our cats that we brought as kittens from Utah (unable to rehome before we left). He was starving and instantly took to me and one of the other cats.
I prayed, “Lord, what am I supposed to do with this?” Not realizing (how could I?) what this little cat signified for our new life here. The answer came back plain as day: “Love him.” I sighed and agreed.
The cat quickly took to fighting a stray and got chased up a tree.
I climbed the tree to save him.
The cat got in a fight with a wild thing and had bites taken out of his side.
I took him to the vet and had him patched up, fixed, and vaccinated.
He sleeps in our bed, gets fleas, and brings critters inside at night… But he’s the best cat ever. Totally worth it.
So, am I in business?
I’m still sorting out suppliers, still looking for clients, worrying that sales won’t be enough—that orders will get behind. I still have tools the shop needs, can’t afford to hire the help I need, and have production issues that need to be ironed out and finalized…
F#@k yeah, I’m in business! All that other stuff… That was just the first year. We made a five-year plan.
