Recently, I sat across from a business owner who had just made the painful decision to shut down their company. The weight of that decision was etched into every line of their face, every sigh between their words. They looked at me and said:
“Ben, I don’t know how you’ve been dealing with all the things I’ve faced over the last three years. Starting my small company was not what I thought it would be. I’m so disappointed that I have to shut it down and move on. I’ll never make that mistake again I’m just not cut out to own a business.”
As I listened, I reflected on my own journey—16 years of running All Nation Restoration in Austin, Texas. My initial reaction was internal and instinctive: Maybe I’m just one of those people who can handle more. Maybe I have something they don’t.
But that voice quieted down as their words continued to echo in my mind for days afterward. And eventually, I reached a deeper, more honest conclusion.
I don’t believe I possess any special gift, trait, or superhuman patience that others lack. I’ve simply lived most of my business life with the wolf at the door. In those early days, failure was not a concept I could entertain not because I was brave or brilliant but because I had no other option.
There was no safety net. No couch to crash on. No parental lifeline or trust fund. No backup plan. Just bills, responsibility, and a growing list of problems that didn’t care about my stress level or bank balance.
Shutting down wasn’t a card I could play. So I stayed in the game.
Over time, I began to do something strange: I started seeking out the crucible. I leaned into high-pressure situations—not because I liked pain, but because I knew growth lived there. I committed to things I couldn’t back out of. I forced myself to figure it out because I had to.
That’s the only real difference I see between those who keep going and those who don’t. It’s not talent. It’s not money. It’s not luck. It’s the decision sometimes conscious, sometimes forced to keep moving forward when every part of you wants to quit.
To the brave soul who closed their business, I want to say this: I understand. And I hope you find the courage to try again someday.
But next time, do it without the parachute.
It’s terrifying. It’s hard. It’s brutal. But it’s worth it. When you take the leap and there is no way out but through that’s when the transformation happens. That’s when you become the version of yourself you never thought possible.
If you’re thinking about starting a business, position yourself where quitting isn’t on the table. Don’t dabble commit. Eliminate the escape routes. That’s how you’ll grow. That’s how you’ll win.
Stay strong. Stay focused. Stay in business.
