How a Career Crisis Led to More Than a Job Change: It Changed my Life

In my late thirties, I was invited to join a private investment banking firm owned by a multibillionaire and open a wealth management office in Atlanta. I built the office from the ground up, recruiting some phenomenal advisors and support staff to create a strong team.

Our office was in one of Atlanta’s most prestigious buildings, high on the 20th floor, where floor-to-ceiling windows framed the city skyline. The space itself was stunning: rich wood, polished marble, and original artwork from the owner’s collection on every wall. We even had access to a private club in the building with a full gym. It felt good, it felt like I had arrived, especially when we took the Falcon 50 (a private jet) to the Masters Tournament. 

While I felt confident in my career, my family was unraveling. My wife, Leigh, is an only child and when you marry a farmer’s only daughter, that means you’re going to build a house on the farm. I didn’t mind—her family became mine, especially her parents, Pat and Robert. 

In February of 2015, everything changed. Leigh’s mother, Pat, passed away suddenly, and her father, Robert, in the advanced stages of dementia, needed care. Leigh lost her mother and best friend that day and took on responsibility for Robert’s care while managing a cattle farm, a few rental properties, and raising our then 10-year-old daughter. Looking back, I regret that I kept up my early mornings and late nights, focused on what I thought was success. Leigh was carrying the weight of the world, and I was choosing to ignore it. 

On September 15, 2015—my 42nd birthday—the president [not the owner] of the company sent me a very clear message by reducing my compensation by 75%. I still have no idea why. That news, combined with the stress at home, triggered a breakdown I’ll never forget. I walked out of my office in a daze, wandering through a crowded park, crying uncontrollably. Imagine: a 6-foot, 250-pound guy, wearing a suit and tie, completely losing it. I called a close friend, who helped me calm down, and I eventually made it home around my usual time. I couldn’t bring myself to tell Leigh what had happened. 

A week later, I resigned and drove home to share the news. We cried together, and I promised I would find a way to make things right. I spent the next few months getting my arms, literally and figuratively, around the situation—reducing the herd, offloading some of the more difficult rental properties, and arranging part-time care for Robert. During this time, I was approached about buying a coaching and consulting firm focused on the wealth management industry.  

In January 2016, I acquired the firm. I enjoy the ownership, have the pleasure of working with some of the best advisors in the country, but most importantly, this gave me the flexibility to be there for my family. I had breakfast with my daughter every morning, and lunch with my wife most days. I didn’t miss a volleyball game or tennis match, and we were able to keep Robert in his home until he passed. 

I’ve been married to my wife for 25 years now, and our daughter is 19 studying at the University of Georgia. Reflecting on that turning point in my life, I now feel nothing but gratitude. Oddly enough, one of the people I am most grateful for in my life is that president who forced me out. Without his decision, none of this would have been possible.  

Life doesn’t always follow the path we envision, but gratitude is a choice—a way to see beyond the setbacks and uncover the unexpected gifts woven into our challenges.