True success—the kind that lasts, the kind that can’t easily be taken away—is never built overnight. It’s not a product of luck or convenience but of relentless grit, lessons learned from failure, and a willingness to endure what others avoid.
Last spring, I started Hazel Health. At the time, I felt unqualified. I didn’t have the experience, the knowledge, or the capacity to lead the company where it needed to go. I knew I wasn’t the CEO Hazel needed me to be. So, I prayed. I told God I was willing to go through whatever was necessary to become that person.
I knew I was inviting challenge, but I didn’t realize just how refining that fire would be.
When Hazel was born, I had already lost so much. My health was failing. My credit was gone. My accounts were empty, and our savings had been wiped out. I stood at a crossroads, fully aware that I wasn’t where I wanted to be, but determined to grow into the leader I needed to become.
In the months that followed, I sold nearly everything we owned just to survive. Anything of value was sacrificed to keep my family afloat. Utilities were handled one crisis at a time. We didn’t have internet or cell phone service at home. The only possession I kept was a blanket gifted to me by a dear friend the previous Christmas—a small comfort in the midst of chaos.
Mornings began early, driving to a bar parking lot to borrow their Wi-Fi so I could make calls and stay connected. I often worked from the local Harmons grocery store, where I could sit with internet access and a place to focus. My wife would drop me off and take the car, knowing it would be repossessed if left unattended.
For months, Hazel was built in a local Harmons—a business born from sheer determination, prayer, and the belief that purpose matters more than circumstances.
That season of life tested everything I thought I knew about resilience and faith. It wasn’t just about surviving—it was about becoming the person able to thrive no matter the resources, limitations. Every call I made from that bar parking lot, every hour spent working at the local grocery, every sacrifice refined me to something I was not.
Looking back, those months taught me what true grit looks like. What true passion looks like. What sacrifice and struggle looks like. They gave me the skills, endurance, belief in myself and humility I needed to become the founder of Aquarius Health. Hazel was where I learned to build something from nothing. Aquarius is where I’m learning to scale that into something greater.
The fire doesn’t destroy you—it shapes you. Success isn’t in avoiding the flames but in stepping into them, trusting they’ll burn away everything that doesn’t belong. It’s in those moments, when you think you have nothing left, that you discover what you’re really made of.
Because success isn’t given. It’s forged.