The Hardest Journey is the Greatest Lesson

I feel deeply blessed to have spent more than twenty-five years in the real estate industry.

Those years taught me everything — the laws, the ethics, the procedures, and the heart behind helping people find their place in the world. I’ve worked with hundreds of clients and colleagues across North America, shared knowledge, and built a career I was proud of.

But the industry I once loved is changing. The world is changing.

Corruption is no longer a whisper — it’s a chorus.

Injustice has found its voice, and it speaks louder than fairness.

Integrity feels harder to come by.

Competition, once healthy and respectful, now too often carries hostility, deception, and entitlement.

Power no longer seems accountable to the people it serves.

And the self-governing body that once stood as the foundation of professionalism feels like it’s imploding from the inside — weakened by bias, arrogance, and corruption.

When I look at it now, I hardly recognize the industry that once gave me purpose.

The justice that once guided our profession has become slanted, distorted, and tainted by self-interest.

As I sit quietly putting the finishing touches on my manuscript, I find myself grateful — not bitter.

Grateful for the years, the lessons, the people, and the opportunities.

But, like all things in life, every chapter has a beginning, a middle, and an end.

Watching the real estate industry I loved so much implode from the inside has left a crevasse of sorrow within me.

I’m not sad to say goodbye to the work itself — I’m sad for what the industry has become.

The strength of corruption has overtaken the goodness that once existed, and for that, I grieve.

Rebuilding a career is simple.

Rebuilding yourself after sorrow takes patience, courage, and clarity.

But it’s within the hardest journeys that we find our greatest lessons.

I’ve come to see that when a door closes, nothing is truly lost.

There’s always another door — often opening at the very same moment — leading to something more aligned, more truthful, more alive.

That’s where the glory, the bounty, and the blessings live.

Walking Beside You...

If you’ve lost something — a loved one, a home, a career, a dream, or even your sense of safety — please know this: grief is real, and it deserves to be felt.

My sorrow isn’t about retiring from a profession I once loved.

It’s about witnessing what happens when integrity no longer leads.

When corruption and complacency overtake compassion.

That’s not an industry I can stand in anymore, because it no longer reflects my moral compass, my passion for humanity, or my sense of right and wrong.

In life, we’re always given three choices:

You can live with it,

you can love it,

or you can leave it.

Once you find your clarity, make your decision — and never look back.

Life isn’t meant to be lived in the rearview mirror.

Leaving the industry wasn’t an ending for me.

It was a lesson in surviving sorrow.

It was the beginning of designing a life I love.