Why I want to own and lead a business in 2024

I felt lost when I enlisted in the Air Force. I did not know what I wanted to do long term, but I knew I wanted to work on something that mattered.

My desire to matter did not come from idealism. It came from something simpler. The moments when I felt most settled were the ones where I was helping solve a real problem that carried consequences. Not in theory. In practice. When something was broken and needed to work again.

I was not interested in recognition. I was not drawn to titles. I was drawn to responsibility. I wanted to be in environments where the outcome mattered and where effort translated directly into results.

As an aircraft mechanic, the mission was not abstract. The aircraft either flew safely or it did not. The standard was clear. The job required precision, discipline, and trust across a team. Nobody was debating philosophy. The work had to be done correctly because the mission depended on it.

That environment shaped how I think about work.

After my time in the military, I moved into the corporate world. I led teams, managed projects, and worked across departments. I learned how large organizations operate. I also saw how easily accountability diffuses when ownership is unclear. Decisions were often optimized for optics, internal politics, or quarterly optics rather than long term durability.

Several owners I have spoken with over the past few years have described a similar tension. They built businesses where outcomes are tangible. Orders ship or they do not. Customers renew or they leave. Inventory turns or it sits. The feedback loop is immediate. There is nowhere to hide.

That clarity is what I was missing.

In distribution and industrial supply businesses, performance is visible. Gross margin does not respond to intention. Working capital does not improve because of narrative. Vendor relationships either strengthen or erode based on how the business is run. Customers stay because service is reliable and pricing is disciplined, not because a strategy deck was compelling.

I became increasingly convinced that if I wanted to operate in an environment where responsibility and impact were aligned, I needed to own the responsibility fully. Not advise it. Not manage around it. Own it.

Buying a business is not about financial engineering for me. It is about stewardship. When a founder transitions out, there is risk. Employees have built careers there. Customers have built supply chains around it. Vendors have extended trust and credit. That continuity matters.

Several owners have told me their primary concern is not valuation. It is whether the next operator will protect what they built. Whether the culture will remain intact. Whether long standing relationships will be treated with care.

I understand that concern. A business that has survived decades in a competitive market carries embedded knowledge that does not show up in financial statements. It lives in people, processes, and judgment calls that were earned over time.

My goal is not to impose a new identity on a company. It is to take responsibility for preserving what works and strengthening what can be improved. That requires operational discipline, financial fluency, and respect for the existing team.

There are easier paths. It would be simpler to pursue a conventional executive track. It would be less uncertain. But it would not provide the same alignment between responsibility and outcome.

Owning and operating a business places the burden in the right place. If margins compress, that is my problem to solve. If service levels slip, that is my responsibility. If the team thrives, that is shared credit.

That level of direct accountability is what I have been looking for since I enlisted.

This path is not about independence for its own sake. It is about working in an environment where the mission is clear, the consequences are real, and the responsibility is personal.

That is why I am pursuing ownership.