Starting a Small Business at 40: What Gave Me Courage?
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Just about three years ago, I had a toddler on my hip and was homeschooling my kindergartner. Not exactly the season of life most would choose to start a small business. I was 40 years old, with a very full plate—and yet, I had dreams twirling around in my mind that simply wouldn’t rest.
Something was ingrained in me from my earliest years: when dreams and ideas won’t leave you alone, it’s worth trying to put feet to them.
And so… I did.
I can say with absolute certainty that I never would have taken that step if it hadn’t been for my dad. He’s been in heaven for 11 years now, but his loud, unwavering, dare-to-dream spirit shaped me more than I ever realized at the time.
My dad was a dreamer in the truest sense. There was always a new idea, a new invention, a better way of doing something. Entrepreneurship wasn’t just something he did—it was part of who he was.
Some of my earliest memories are of him sitting at the kitchen table in the evenings with ribbon and a glue gun, attempting to make hair bows. That was the beginning. Years later, he was running a large company creating bows and accessories for all ages. I had more hair bows than could fill a closet.
I can still picture him wheeling me through his warehouse on a dolly, rows upon rows of ribbon stacked high. I’d pick out my favorites, and then we’d walk over to the work tables where kind, hardworking women sat at their sewing machines, carefully crafting bow after bow.
The bow business was his main venture during my childhood, but it was never his only idea. He was always building something, always imagining what could be next.
Looking back, I realize those moments—watching him start small, take risks, succeed, fail, and try again—sewed something deep into my heart. Something I still carry now at 43.
Because of my dad, a 40-year-old homeschooling mom with a toddler in tow could step into starting a business with a simple, “Why not?” I wasn’t paralyzed by fear of success or failure. I believed, deep down, that it wasn’t just about succeeding—it was about trying, growing, and becoming.
If I had to sum up five of the most important lessons my dad taught me about building something, they would be these:
1. Just go for it. Why not give it a try?
2. Starting small is okay, even necessary. Who knows—ribbons and a glue gun at the kitchen table might become a million dollar business one day.
3. It’s okay to fail. People are so afraid of failing. But that fear holds them back from even trying… and the lack of taking that initial risk can actually rob you of so much future dreaming and potential. Some of my dad’s ideas really panned out. And you know what? Some of them fell totally flat. It was definitely a bummer when things didn’t work out. It was time lost, some investment lost, and a dream that didn’t see fulfillment. But my dad didn’t let it keep him from continuing to dream of other things. To the day he died, he still had ideas dancing in his mind that he was on his way to pursue.
4. Be patient. It takes time to build something well. We are in a day and age (now more than ever) when we want build-quick, make-money-quick, insta-everything. But if you want something solid, know it can take years. Just be consistent and faithful to your goals.
5. Don’t let one hard stretch make you give up. I watched some of my dad’s business ventures walk through both feast and famine. In these last 3 years, I’ve definitely had some hard moments, hard stretches, and plenty of days when I wanted to throw in the towel. There will always be ebb and flow. Don’t toss out the dream, and all of the work you’ve sown, just because you’ve hit a wall of discouragement.
I wish my dad was here today so I could thank him in person. I said goodbye to him 11 years ago, before I ever had children and several years before I even considered starting any sort of business.
I’m sure he never knew that I was taking mental notes my whole life as I watched him dream and try and succeed and fall and try again.
He never stopped dreaming. And I hope that same steady, resilient, never-giving-up spirit lives on in me.
Friends, here’s to having the courage to dream—and to take that first step toward the ideas stirring in your heart.