The Three Phone Calls That Shaped My Career

A few months after graduating University, I was offered my first real job, the start of my professional career and it was in the financial services industry as an Investment Advisor and I lasted exactly three phone calls.

Three.

The first person told me to …. Well, you can imagine what he said.

The second suggested I go and …. Again, you can imagine what he told me I can go and do.

The third call was to my dad to find out how to resign.

That was my brief and unimpressive career in cold calling.

At the time, I wasn’t sure if it was failure or the start of a new chapter, but I knew it wasn’t for me. I had just stepped into what was supposed to be a lucrative path. Nice upside. Big earning potential. The kind of industry where if you can sell, you can make very good money.

There was just one problem.

I hated it.

Not because people were rude. That comes with the territory. I hated it because I felt like I was trying to convince someone of something before I had earned the right to speak with authority. I was being trained to overcome objections. To steer conversations. To push a little harder.

It felt like acting.

And I am not wired to act.

After that third call to my dad, I had a realization that has stuck with me ever since.

I am not built to compete on persuasion.

I do not want to convince someone I am better. I do not want to sell myself into a room. I do not want to win business because I can talk faster, push harder, or create urgency.

That realization changed everything.

I pivoted.

I knew what I needed and I pursued becoming a Chartered Accountant in Canada. Those letters meant something to me. They still do. Not because they look impressive on a business card, but because they represent discipline. Standards. Competence that is tested and verified.

I did not want to compete on personality.

I wanted to compete on substance.

When my dad and I opened our first office in 2002, we were offered the chance to advertise on these very fancy garbage cans in the downtown core. Prime visibility. Good traffic. The kind of thing a young firm might jump at.

I refused.

Not because advertising is wrong. Not because we could not use the exposure.

I did not want to be known as the “garbage” accountant.

It sounds ridiculous when I say it out loud, but positioning matters. Context matters. If you place yourself next to something cheap, noisy, or disposable, some of that perception sticks whether you like it or not.

Even then, early in my career, I cared about how the work was framed.

Over the years, I have added more letters behind my name. CPA. CFO. Certified Valuation Analyst. Value Growth and Exit Planning credentials. I did not pursue them so I could list them in every paragraph or try to win an argument online.

I pursued them because they deepen the work.

Because when I sit across from a business owner who is exhausted, cash is tight, and risk is high, they deserve more than confidence. They deserve competence.

The through-line from those three phone calls to today is simple.

I have never been comfortable competing on volume, hype, or persuasion.

I am not going to out-sell anyone.

I am not going to build urgency into every conversation.

I am not going to tell you why I am better than the next person.

What I will do is this.

I will explain how profit actually works.

I will show you where cash flow quietly breaks down.

I will point out the risks that buyers see but owners often miss.

I will tell you the truth about valuation, even when it is not flattering.

If that resonates, we will probably get along just fine.

If it does not, that is fine too.

Those three phone calls were uncomfortable at the time. But looking back, they were a gift. They forced me to decide what kind of professional I wanted to be very early on.

I chose substance.

I still do.