From Fired to Founder — How Getting Let Go Sparked My Biggest Leap

Some career leaps come from careful planning. Mine came with a pink slip.

I wanted to buy the practice where I worked as an associate. But when the owner named his price, it was so high I would’ve needed a lottery ticket and a couple of rich uncles to cover it. When I didn’t agree, he fired me. Just like that.

It was a fork-in-the-road moment.

• Path one: dust myself off, find another associate job, and keep building someone else’s dream.
• Path two: finally build my own.

Testing the Waters

Lucky for me, I’d already been experimenting with ownership by running a mobile large-animal practice on the side. In the beginning, it was scrappy: just me and the same old truck I’d driven since vet school, tossing supplies in the back and hoping they didn’t roll around too much. Not exactly glamorous. 

But over time, it grew. I eventually upgraded to a professional veterinary truck with a custom box—outfitted with a refrigerator, an x-ray machine, and space for equipment and medications. That shift—from a “throw it in the back” operation to a fully equipped mobile clinic—was my first real taste of autonomy. And I liked it. I liked calling the shots, making ownership decisions, and knowing my future was mine to shape.

The Leap

So when I found a half-empty building for lease—formerly a tanning salon and hair studio that smelled like regret—I saw possibility. Terrifying possibility.

I had two young kids at home, a good paycheck I’d just lost, and a space that was nothing more than drywall and concrete. I remember walking through it and thinking: this doesn’t look anything like a veterinary clinic. It looks like bad lighting, questionable carpet, and regretful hair dye.

That’s when I sat down, by myself, and ran the numbers. For seven years as an associate, I’d been quietly stacking cash into an emergency reserve. My mobile practice was pulling in steady money. And my wife, a registered nurse, had a solid income too.

When I wrote it all out, the fear didn’t disappear, but it got smaller. Worst-case scenario? I’d burn through some savings and end up back as an associate. Best case? I’d finally own something of my own.

So I leapt.

The First Win That Made It Real

Before the clinic was finished, I practiced out of my garage. Clients brought pets to my house, and I examined them on a folding card table wedged between the lawnmower and my kids’ bikes. It wasn’t pretty, but it kept me moving forward.

Then came my first official client at Brown Veterinary Service. The appointment? A rabies vaccine. I wrote it down in my paper schedule, printed the receipt, and slid it across the counter with “Brown Veterinary Service” at the top.

It wasn’t a big case. It wasn’t a huge payday. But it was the moment I realized: this was real. This wasn’t a dream anymore. This was a business.

Lessons from the Leap

1. Fear is part of the deal. If you’re waiting to feel ready, you’ll never move.
2. Worst-case scenarios lose power when you write them down. Mine was “go back to being an associate”—not exactly catastrophic.
3. Momentum beats perfection. I didn’t know everything about running a business, but I could paint walls, hang a sign, and keep seeing clients. Forward was enough.
4. Tiny wins are proof. That $20 rabies vaccine meant more than my first five-figure month. It proved I was legitimate.

Action Steps for You

• Run a small experiment. Test your leap in a low-stakes way before going all in. Freelance, consult, or build the “garage version” of your idea.
• Write down your worst-case scenario. Seeing it on paper usually makes it far less terrifying.
• Redefine your story. Add a “+” to your identity: “I’m a teacher + exploring design.” “I’m an accountant + learning real estate.”
• Celebrate your first tiny win. Your “rabies vaccine moment” could be a first subscriber, sale, or client call. Treat it like gold—it’s proof you’re moving.

Bottom Line

Getting fired was the best thing that ever happened to me—not because I stayed an entrepreneur forever, but because it taught me how to think like one. Owning my practice gave me the resilience, financial acumen, and leadership skills I use every day in my university role now. The leap was less about becoming an owner for life and more about proving to myself that I could bet on me. That lesson has carried into every role since.