#27: Why I Sold My Company — A Story of Reinvention, Grief & Letting Go

Reclaiming My Voice: The True Story Behind Selling My Jewelry School

In this episode of The Jewelers View, Courtney Gray takes us on a deeply personal journey, sharing her experiences of running Creative Side Jewelry Academy for 15 years, the challenges that led to its sale, and the difficult path of reclaiming her identity post-sale. From the highs and lows of her career to dealing with personal crises, Courtney opens up about the process of letting go and finding her voice again. She discusses the importance of reinvention and offers a heartfelt message of resilience and hope for anyone facing similar struggles. Join her as she dives into the emotional aftermath of selling her business, setting the stage for a discussion on what comes next.

Transcript

  This is something I've never talked about publicly, but I'm ready. Before we dive in, if this show has been resonating with you, or if you wanna follow along as I keep telling these stories, head to courtneygrayarts.com. You'll find links to past episodes, free resources, and a way to connect with me if you're feeling the pull to share your story too.

You can also follow me on Instagram at Courtney Gray Arts for more behind the scenes and deep reflections. Okay, let's begin. In 2019, I sold my company Creative Side Jewelry Academy. this wasn't part of a well-timed exit strategy.

It wasn't neat, it wasn't clean. It came after years of holding too much too tightly for too long, and when the world shut down,  it only amplified what I already knew. Deep down. I couldn't keep going like that. This is the real story of why I sold the business, what happened after, and how it shaped who I've become.

This is about grief. This is about truth. I. This is about starting over, not from scratch, but from experience. This is not a story of blame. This is not a tell all. It's a story of letting go, getting back up and learning to keep moving forward when your whole identity feels like it's been stripped away.

It's about reinvention and the long hard road to reclaiming your voice when you've been silent for too long. Creative side was more than a school. It was a dream I built with my own hands, my own sweat, and my whole heart.

I taught there. I hired artists, I created community. We built something beautiful. It was magical and it was never just a business to me, it was a calling. But by the time 2019 rolled around, I was breaking.

Before the sale ever happened, life had already hit me hard. My house burned down. My husband had a stroke. After rebuilding the home, my mom suffered a full mental breakdown. I. I started experiencing health issues that felt like my body was finally waving that white flag, and still I kept showing up. I kept leading. I kept trying to smile through it, but the truth is I was barely hanging on. Then Covid, every pressure point exploded. Suddenly I was faced with three very difficult options, close sell or file for bankruptcy.

None of those options felt really good, but I chose the one I thought would protect the community sell. So when someone came forward with interest in taking over the business, I genuinely thought we were co-creating a solution. I reduced the sale price by half. I wrote out detailed agreements including student credits.

I spent weeks showing the books, making spreadsheets, preparing documents. We created 133 page contract outlining everything, clear, direct, accountable. I believed we were aligned. I believed we both wanted to care for the students, the staff, the instructors.

I thought we were building a bridge. Instead, I was ghosted. Once the keys were handed over, everything stopped. The messages we had planned to send together never sent the transition plan gone. No communication, no updates, no follow through, and then I started hearing things, false accusations, comments on Facebook.

Claims that I had abandoned the school, taken money and left students without support. None of it was true, but people were starting to believe it. So I did what I had to do. I sent a cease and desist to protect my name, to protect my work, and to protect the truth. We tried mediation, it went nowhere. And for the next two years, I lived inside a kind of invisible heartbreak, Not just from the business, but from the betrayal, from the silence, from the feeling that everything I had built was slipping away, misunderstood and undefended.

And I'm getting teary here as I tell this story. It wasn't just the legal battles, it wasn't the money, it was the erasure, the feeling of being discarded by a community that I had created. The people I loved, people I had taught, supported, advocated for vanished. Some believed the lies. Others just faded into silence and wouldn't respond to me, and I know I can't control that, but I'd be lying if I said it didn't hurt.

I held all of that for years quietly. I was told not to speak because I didn't want to cause more harm or fuel the flames, if you will, because I thought maybe it would all just go away over time or that it would be taken care of as we agreed upon. But it didn't, Now I've realized the silence has cost me more than the story ever could. So why I'm speaking about this now I've finally healed enough to tell the truth without burning down the room because I've learned that you cannot stay stuck in someone else's story. You have to reclaim your own. Because the last five years have been about rebuilding my identity, not as a school owner, but as a creative, a mentor, a business strategist, a guide, I know I'm not the only one who has made a hard decision only to be misunderstood, and because I know now reinvention doesn't start with a big plan. It starts with finally saying out loud what you were never allowed to say. Sometimes survival means letting go even when it breaks your heart. If you've ever had to walk away from something you built, if you've ever been blamed, misunderstood, or silenced, this happens in business.

If you've carried shame or sorrow for something that was never yours to carry, this is your permission slip. You can grieve, you can rise, and you can write your next chapter on your own terms. I'm doing it and it's led me to something more honest, more fulfilling, and more me than I ever thought I'd find again, you don't have to be stuck in the version of yourself that survived.

You're allowed to grow into the version that thrives. Next week, we're talking about what comes after grief, the slow, steady, imperfect process of reinvention.  📍 How I began creating again, how I found clarity again, and how you can too. You're not starting over. You're starting from here. I'll see you there in the next episode. Onward and upward.  📍