
Before You Say Yes to Bigger: The Growth Lesson I Learned the Hard Way
There was a season in my business when everything looked strong from the outside.
Both locations were doing well. The team was fully staffed. The event calendar was full. We had several events every week, retail deliveries going out daily, and I was constantly moving between our Virginia shop and our location inside the Mayflower Hotel in Washington, DC.
Business was bustling.
But looking back, I can see something more clearly now: we were not just growing. We were stretched.
We were operating at capacity.
And that is exactly when a new opportunity showed up.
The Opportunity That Looked Like a Win
At the time, we were already buying flowers directly from growers for larger events. It gave us access to fresher product, a better selection, and better pricing. So when I received a call about becoming a distribution partner for fresh product coming directly from growers, it immediately felt like a natural fit.
The idea was simple enough.
The partner company would bring fresh product from growers into Miami, truck it up to the DC area, and we would receive, hold, sort, and distribute it to local florists and businesses.
For my business, it seemed to solve several problems at once.
We needed more refrigeration. We needed more space. We were storing and processing a lot of fresh product every week, especially with the event side of the business. The idea of having a larger location, better refrigeration, better access to flowers, and an additional revenue stream felt like a win for the retail business, a win for the event business, and a win for the new distribution opportunity.
It did not feel like a distraction.
It felt like the next logical move.
And that is one of the first lessons I learned: the most dangerous growth opportunities are not always the wild or reckless ones. Sometimes they are the ones that seem to solve a real problem.
When the Opportunity Makes Sense, But the Structure Does Not
I have always been a natural businesswoman. I can usually look at an idea or opportunity and see the potential quickly. That has served me well many times.
In this case, the opportunity felt right up my alley. We were already working with growers. We already understood fresh product. We already had relationships in the floral and event world. And I could see how this model could benefit other florists in the area by giving them access to fresher product without going through the traditional middleman.
But looking back, I can also see the red flags.
The opportunity required me to find a much larger space and take on the burden of a bigger lease. I was the one committing to the rent, the physical move, the larger warehouse, and the long-term overhead.
The partner company agreed to provide and install the refrigeration unit, which made the agreement feel more balanced at the time. It felt like they were investing too.
But the deeper exposure was still sitting mostly on my side.
I did not make the decision casually. I talked through the numbers. My dad, who often looked at my numbers, questioned it. My accountant reviewed the numbers and believed it could work. My mom asked good questions and encouraged me. My husband and I had many back-and-forth conversations.
I also asked the partner company a lot of questions.
How were they going to get customers?
How long had they been in the floral business?
What were they bringing to the table?
What were they willing to invest since the model depended on me finding a larger facility?
At the time, it felt like we were working through the right things.
I built what I thought was a conservative version of the numbers. I looked at what I was already paying, the chance to eliminate two storage units, the ability to take on more event work, and the projected distribution revenue.
But here was the problem: my conservative projection was based on their assumptions.
And their assumptions were not nearly as solid as I believed.
They had experience with this model in other parts of the country, but they had not proven it in the East Coast market. I trusted that their previous success would translate into this market.
That became one of the biggest lessons of the entire experience:
A conservative projection is only as conservative as the assumptions underneath it.
The Protection Was Missing
In the partnership, each side had a role.
They were responsible for getting customers and selling product from their growers. They were also responsible for the logistics of getting the flowers from the farms to Miami and then trucking them to my warehouse.
Once the trucks arrived, my responsibility began. I received the product, sorted it, held it properly, and distributed it to local businesses and customers.
On the surface, the roles were clear.
But the expectations were not documented deeply enough.
We had an agreement, but it focused more on the partnership and the refrigeration unit. What we did not have was a detailed plan that spelled out responsibilities, timelines, sales benchmarks, ramp-up expectations, contingency plans, or what would happen if the sales did not come in quickly enough.
There was no clear fail plan.
No downside plan.
No “what happens if this takes twice as long as expected?”
No protection for the possibility that the market would need more education, more time, and more trust before buying this way.
At the time, it felt like they were doing me a favor by paying for the refrigeration and installation.
Looking back, I see it differently.
The structure put most of the exposure on me.
I had the lease. I had the larger space. I had the long-term overhead. I had the repayment obligation for the refrigeration. And if the sales did not come in as expected, I was the one left carrying the fixed costs.
The risk was not evenly shared, even though it felt like a partnership.
That is hard to admit, but it is important.
A partnership is not just about shared excitement. It is about shared risk, shared responsibility, and shared clarity.
When the Plan Started to Unravel
The first sign that things were not going according to plan came through the salesperson.
She was boots on the ground, going door to door to florists, showing the quality of the product and trying to get people on board. There was interest, but it was slow. The market was not jumping in as quickly as the partners had expected.
Then the rumblings started.
The partners began questioning what was happening. Before long, they fired the manager who had originally brought the idea to me and helped put the opportunity together.
Once he was gone, everything changed.
Communication shifted. I was not told right away. I heard it first from the salesperson, who was upset. Then I received the call from the partner.
After that, the more difficult partner stepped in and started making changes. He set quotas for the salesperson that felt almost impossible to meet, especially given how new the model was in our market.
The salesperson was doing everything she could, but the pressure kept building.
Eventually, the partners got on a call with me and told me they wanted out.
I did not handle that well.
I told them very clearly that they had made decisions that affected me, my business, my lease, and my financial obligations. They could not simply walk away as if their decision had no impact on me.
In that moment, I felt betrayed.
I also blamed myself.
I kept thinking, “How did I not see this? How did I not protect against this? How did I put myself in this position?”
The financial implications were serious. I could not comfortably meet the rent. I stopped paying myself so I could make ends meet. I took on more events just to try to pay the bills.
I was working harder than ever, not to grow, but to survive the decision.
I hired a lawyer to understand my options. I talked with my landlord to see if I could get out of the lease. But I was too early in the lease, and there was no simple way out.
The stress touched every part of my life.
My marriage was under tremendous pressure. I was working seven days a week and staying late at the shop many nights. I still had to show up for my staff, serve clients, produce events, fulfill retail orders, and keep the regular business moving.
The regular business did not stop just because the expansion was falling apart.
What I did not tell people at the time was that I felt like a failure.
I wondered if I might have to declare bankruptcy. I had made it through 9/11. I had made it through the 2008 recession. I had survived so much as a business owner.
And yet here I was, wondering if this decision was going to be the thing that took me down...
The Way Through
The turning point came one night while I was staying late at the shop.
Up until then, I had been trying to make ends meet by taking on more events. But more events required more staffing, more production, more energy, and more expense. I realized that simply adding more work was not the answer.
The way through the mess was the distribution side.
Even though the original partnership had fallen apart, I still believed the model had potential. I was already buying direct from growers. I understood the value of fresher flowers, better access, and direct relationships.
So I went to the growers I was already working with and said, “If you can sell it, I can bring it in for you.”
Then I went to the original partner’s competition and told them I could handle their distribution too.
The growers were interested because it gave them a way to expand their market. They were the best people to sell their own product. My job was to figure out the logistics.
And I had to learn fast.
I learned how to set up international freight forwarding accounts. I learned how to find refrigerated trucks that could handle smaller shipments. I learned how pallets were calculated, how weight mattered, how many boxes could fit on a pallet, and what it took to get product from Miami to my warehouse without losing money.
At first, I had to foot the bill to get trucks to drop off to me because I did not yet have enough pallets to justify the stop. But I kept working the model.
After about six months, I had a couple of competitors shipping through me. Their boxes helped me reach the pallet requirements. Little by little, I started filling the refrigeration unit with product to distribute.
That was one of my saving graces.
The hardest operational challenge was learning how to price the distribution side correctly. I had to understand pallet requirements, weight, box counts, trucking costs, delivery costs, and how to charge per box and per load so I would not lose money.
I had never done anything like that before.
My team carried a lot during that season. They saw my stress, and they did the best they could to help me through it. It was stressful for all of us, but I was so proud of the way they stepped up.
I did not always manage everything well. I was burning the candle at both ends.
Only my strength in the Lord kept me going.
When I look back, I am still amazed at what it took to keep showing up.
That season revealed the same three words that have carried me through so much of business and life: tenacity, resilience, and adaptation.
What I Would Tell Business Owners Now
The biggest business lesson from that experience is this:
Things do not always work out the way you think they will.
So plan on that.
That does not mean you become fearful, cynical, or unwilling to take risks. It means you build with wisdom. You look at the opportunity, but you also look at the downside.
You ask what could go wrong.
You consider whether the business can survive if the timeline doubles, the revenue takes longer, the costs rise, or the partnership changes.
Growth needs a system. It needs structure, numbers, capacity, clarity, and the willingness to adapt. Growth for the sake of growth can create pressure the business is not prepared to carry. Sustainable growth gives the business room to adjust when things do not go according to plan.
Partnerships need the same level of wisdom.
Not all partnerships are bad. Good partnerships can create opportunities that would not exist otherwise. But expectations need to be written down. Responsibilities need to be clear. Each person’s role needs to be spelled out. The risk needs to be understood, not just the reward.
The same is true with fixed overhead.
Leases, equipment, refrigeration, payroll, storage, and staffing all look manageable when the projections work. But you have to plan for the conservative version and the downside version so you can see where pressure might show up before it becomes a crisis.
And projections are just projections.
No one-year, three-year, or five-year projection is fact. It is an estimate based on assumptions. The question is not whether your projection is perfect. The question is whether you are watching closely enough to adjust when reality starts giving you new information.
Before a business owner expands, I would want them to ask:
"What if this does not work?"
"Can the business survive if the revenue comes in slower than expected?"
"Who carries the fixed cost if the assumptions are wrong?"
"What needs to be written down before we move forward?"
"What needs to be protected before I say yes?"
And maybe the harder question:
"Can my family and I handle the pressure if this becomes harder than I thought?"
Why This Shapes the Work I Do Now
That experience influences almost everything I advise on today.
Strategies matter. Numbers matter. Systems matter. But mindset and decision-making often become the real challenge when pressure rises.
I know what it feels like to carry the weight of payroll, leases, clients, staff, family, fear, and responsibility all at the same time. I know what it feels like to make a decision with the best information you have, then realize the assumptions underneath it were not strong enough.
That is why I care so much about sustainable growth, profit, capacity, and decision-making.
Because growth is not just about whether the upside is exciting.
It is about whether the business can withstand the downside.
If you are looking at a major growth decision, a new partnership, a bigger lease, a new location, or a significant investment, do not just ask, “Could this work?”
Ask, “What happens if it does not work the way we think?”
That question may feel uncomfortable in the moment. But it may also be the question that protects the business you worked so hard to build.
And if you are already in the middle of a hard season, wondering how you are going to get through it, I want you to know this:
It is possible to turn things around, even when you feel like you are in a pit of despair.
You may need better numbers. You may need outside perspective. You may need to rethink the model, renegotiate, simplify, or pivot.
But you are not without options.
Sometimes the thing that almost breaks you becomes the thing that reveals what you are capable of.