Seven Years On: The Business Built Me More Than I Built the Business

When people look at a business from the outside, they often see the fields, the dogs, the happy photographs, the growth, and the vision. What they don't see are the years spent questioning yourself, rebuilding your confidence, carrying responsibility alone, and learning lessons you never expected to learn.

Seven years ago, I was a single mum with a (what I thought was a simple) dream.

I had no family support around me, no safety net to fall back on, and no guarantees that any of it would work; in fact since I started this 2.5 Million business have gone in the UK, but I held a vision: to build a life for my son and me centred around something I loved deeply—dogs welfare. I wanted to create a business that reflected my values, gave us freedom, and made a genuine difference to the lives of dogs and their owners.

To pursue that vision, I risked everything.

I stepped away from the comfort and security of the corporate world and committed fully to a path that many people considered uncertain. I borrowed belief my books like Think and Grow Rich, when my own confidence wavered. I asked friends to make introductions to investors, I trusted people who said they wanted to help, and pushed forward with determination because failure simply wasn't an option. My first business partner ran to the hills when Covid struck, leaving me alone, to keep my spirits up and pushing forward and soon discovered a friend wasn't actually a friend after all.

COVID arrived.

Almost overnight, the world changed. Never before in modern history had businesses been ordered to close their doors while people were instructed to stay at home. My carefully constructed business plan and savings was turned upside down. The future I had mapped out suddenly disappeared beneath my feet.

As a start-up, many of the government support schemes that helped established businesses offered little protection. The bills continued to arrive. The rent on the land still had to be paid. The responsibilities remained. There were days when money was stretched so thin that my son and I lived on the simplest of meals while I worked out how to keep moving forward.

At the same time, I experienced setbacks that tested my faith in people as much as my faith in myself. Relationships I had relied upon broke down. Trust was misplaced. Some opportunities I had counted on never materialised. People I believed would support the vision pursued their own interests instead. Looking back now, I can see how often my desire to see the best in people overrode my ability to recognise when my boundaries were being crossed.

Yet despite everything, I kept going.

Not because it was easy.

Not because I had a detailed roadmap.

But because my belief was stronger than my fear.

I believed that if I built a business grounded in love, integrity, purpose, and genuine care, it would eventually find its place in the world and I would attract those people.

What I didn't realise was that I wasn't simply building a business.

I was embarking on a journey of self-discovery.

During those early years, I also experienced personal loss. During COVID I lost my closest friend, and with the isolation that many of us experienced, grief felt heavier than it otherwise might have. There were times when I felt completely alone and still do. Times when there was nobody to confide in, nobody to share the burden with, no-one to give me a hug, and nobody who truly understood the weight of carrying a young business through such uncertainty.

Over the last seven years, I have navigated challenges that few people ever see.

There have been incredible highs, moments of immense pride, and countless dogs whose lives have been transformed. Yet behind the scenes there have also been sleepless nights, financial pressures, COVID lockdowns, economic uncertainty, rising costs, staffing challenges which have been overwhelming at times, legal disputes, health scares, and the constant responsibility of ensuring that every dog, customer, and team member is cared for.

Running a business teaches you things about yourself that no book, course, or qualification ever could.

It reveals your strengths, but it also exposes your weaknesses.

It shines a light on patterns you didn't know existed.

Over the years, I have found myself repeatedly asking why certain situations kept appearing in my life. Why did I struggle to enforce boundaries? Why did I put other people's needs before my own? Why did I continue giving chances when experience suggested otherwise?

The truth is that building a business has forced me to confront parts of myself that had nothing to do with dogs and everything to do with personal growth.

One of the hardest lessons has been understanding the difference between kindness and boundaries.

I have always believed in treating people. I have always wanted to create opportunities, support others, and build a workplace that feels like family. Yet sometimes, when you lead with trust and friendship, you discover that not everyone values that in the same way.

Business ownership is a lonely place.

There is often an assumption that owners are somehow immune to stress. That because they own the company, they can absorb endless pressure without consequence. People rarely see the sleepless nights spent worrying about payroll, even not paying yourself to help the business cash-flow, customer service issues, legal obligations, reputation, maintenance of 10 acres, compliance, rising costs, or the welfare of every dog in your care.

They rarely see the emotional toll of criticism, accusations, rumours, or conflict.

What I've learned is that leadership requires resilience, but resilience does not mean invulnerability.

Behind every small business is a human being carrying an enormous amount of responsibility.

Like many business owners, I have experienced situations where trust has been broken, where relationships have ended badly, and where actions taken by others have created stress, financial loss, or reputational challenges for the company. Those experiences hurt. They always will.

But they have also taught me something valuable.

Every challenge has forced me to become stronger.

Every setback has required me to become wiser.

Every difficult situation has pushed me to improve the systems, boundaries, and culture of the business.

The world today is not an easy place in which to build a company. Over the last seven years we have lived through a global pandemic, economic instability, soaring costs, political uncertainty, and an almost constant stream of negative headlines. Yet despite all of that, we are still here.

We are still growing.

We are still caring for dogs.

We are still serving our members.

Most importantly, we are still pursuing the vision that started this journey in the first place.

When I look back, I realise that success is not measured by revenue, social media followers, or the size of the business.

Success is continuing when quitting would be easier.

Success is learning from the people who hurt you without becoming bitter.

Success is holding onto your values in a world that constantly tests them.

Success is getting up each morning and choosing to keep going.

Seven years on, I am proud of what we have built.

But more than that, I am grateful for the person this journey has helped me become.

The dogs may have been the reason I started.

The lessons, however, keep coming.

Today has been a difficult day. One of those days that tests your patience, your character, and your resolve and you just wonder why you keep going. Over the years, I have learned that not every criticism deserves a response, and not every accusation deserves a defence. Sometimes the hardest thing to do is remain silent while others attempt to tear you down.

But I have come to believe that people eventually reveal themselves through their own actions. Character has a way of surfacing over time, and the truth rarely stays hidden forever.

In moments like these, it is resilience, leadership, boundaries, self-worth, and self-belief that keep me moving forward. They are the lessons this journey has taught me, and they are the reason I am still here.

And the journey is only just beginning.

Looking back over the last seven years, there is one decision that stands above many others: employing Vicki.

For the first time in this business, I have someone who shares the weight of responsibility, someone whose loyalty, integrity, and commitment never waver. Through the challenges, uncertainty, and constant demands of running a growing company, she has become my centre of gravity.

As business owners, we often spend years searching for the right people—people who genuinely care about the vision, the standards, and the future of the company as much as we do. Those people are rare. When you find them, they become more than employees; they become trusted partners on the journey.

For so many years, I felt as though I was carrying everything alone. Today, she has reminded me when challenges arise, I know I no longer stand on my own. I have someone beside me who helps steady the ship when the waters become rough.

That support has reminded me of an important lesson: success is never built by one person. Behind every great business is a small group of people who believe in the vision enough to keep moving forward together.

After seven years of searching, learning, and rebuilding, I finally feel that I have found that foundation. And because of that, I am more excited about the future than ever before.