(Chapter 2: The Early Days – Building a Foundation on Shaky Ground)
Chapter 3: Stumbling Toward the Next Level
The dream of building Crystal Purity Commercial Cleaning was born from a hunger for freedom—a chance to create something of my own, to carve out a life on my terms. But dreams, I learned, are only the spark. The real work comes in the grind, the setbacks, and the moments when you’re forced to confront your limitations. Scaling Crystal Purity to the next level was one of those moments—a chapter of my journey marked by mistakes, hard lessons, and the slow realization that growth demands more than ambition. It demands grit, patience, and a willingness to stumble.
When I arrived in the United States, I carried a suitcase full of confidence and 35 years of marketing and branding experience from across the globe. I’d built campaigns, launched brands, and navigated markets from Europe to Asia. But in this new city, none of that mattered. I was a stranger in a strange land, and my biggest obstacle was painfully clear: I had no connections. No friends to call for advice, no colleagues to lean on, no industry contacts to open doors. Crystal Purity was up and running, serving clients with dedication, but without a network, growing the business felt like trying to climb a mountain with no gear. I was determined to take it to the next level, but my early attempts were a humbling lesson in what not to do.
My first strategy was to expand through clients who had multiple locations. I reasoned that if they were satisfied with our work at one site, they’d naturally want us at their other branches. I poured hours into meetings, crafting pitches, and building relationships with these clients, convinced that their loyalty would be my ticket to growth. But the plan unraveled quickly. Many clients had existing contracts with other companies at their other locations, locked in by long-term agreements or regional preferences. Others had decision-making processes so fragmented—spread across managers in different cities—that I couldn’t get a foothold. I’d spend months chasing a lead, only to hit a dead end. The lesson stung: loyalty doesn’t automatically translate to expansion, and assuming it would was a costly miscalculation.
Undeterred, I shifted gears and focused on referrals. I started asking happy clients to connect me with friends or colleagues who might need our services. “You’re pleased with our work,” I’d say, trying to sound casual. “Do you know anyone else who could use us?” It felt like a logical next step, but the results were disheartening. Most clients were quick to praise our efforts but slow to make introductions. Some didn’t want to mix personal relationships with business; others simply didn’t have the time or inclination to play connector. I realized too late that I was putting the burden on them, expecting them to do the work of growing my business. My approach felt clumsy, even desperate, and it yielded almost no new leads. Referrals, I learned, require more than enthusiasm—they need a deliberate system, something I hadn’t yet built.
With growth stalling and frustration mounting, I turned to hiring sales or area managers to build the network I lacked. I posted job listings, envisioning a team of driven professionals who could open doors and bring in new clients. The response was overwhelming, but not in the way I’d hoped. My inbox filled with applications from people who wanted a steady paycheck but showed little interest in results. They were clock-punchers, not builders. The few candidates who seemed capable of delivering big wins demanded salaries that were far beyond what a small business like mine could afford. Without proof of their ability to deliver, I couldn’t justify the risk. I took a chance on a couple of hires, but they were a mismatch—lacking passion for the business and bringing no meaningful connections.
This partial failure hit hard. Hiring for growth, I realized, isn’t about filling roles; it’s about finding people who share your vision and are willing to grind alongside you.
Each mistake carried a heavy price—time and money, both of which were in short supply. I was pouring resources into strategies that weren’t working, all while keeping Crystal Purity’s operations running smoothly. The financial strain was relentless, and the emotional toll was just as real. There were nights when I lay awake, questioning whether I’d made a terrible mistake betting everything on this venture. I needed passionate team members who understood the business and had at least a few connections to spark growth. But finding those people wasn’t something I could rush. It required patience, persistence, and a stubborn refusal to give up.
Somewhere in the haze of those setbacks, I found a turning point. I began to see that building a network from scratch wasn’t about flashy moves or quick wins—it was about showing up, day after day, and doing the work. I stopped chasing shortcuts and focused on delivering value to every client, no matter how small. I also became more intentional about who I brought into the fold. Instead of rushing to hire, I waited for people who shared my passion for the business and brought even a modest network to the table. It wasn’t easy, and it wasn’t cheap. Every month of waiting felt like a gamble, but finding even one person who got it—who saw the potential in what we were building—was worth it. They didn’t need a Rolodex full of contacts; they just needed enough to start opening doors.
Looking back, those mistakes were my greatest teachers. I learned that networks don’t sprout overnight—they grow slowly, rooted in trust and consistency. I learned that referrals need a thoughtful system, not just a hopeful ask. I learned that hiring is about passion and fit, not just promises of results. Most of all, I learned that patience isn’t just a virtue—it’s a strategy. Growth doesn’t bend to your timeline, but every small step builds momentum.
The road to take Crystal Purity to the next level is still unfolding, and I’m still stumbling at times. But I’m fueled by the grit that got me here, tempered by the lessons of my failures. Freedom, for me, isn’t just about building a business—it’s about embracing the mess, the uncertainty, and the slow, steady climb toward something bigger. Every mistake has made me stronger, every lesson has sharpened my resolve. The journey isn’t over, but I’m learning to trust the process, one determined step at a time.
To be continued…
