34 Years, One “Real” Job, and a Life I Never Planned

 A Work Anniversary Reflection

Thirty-four years ago, I walked into a small, messy paint store wearing my best “interview outfit” and absolutely no idea that I was about to walk into my life’s work.

I had just graduated from the University of Missouri with a degree in Textile and Apparel Management. Like most new graduates, I was equal parts hopeful and terrified. I wasn’t afraid of hard work — I had worked near full-time for three years at the University’s Parking and Transportation Department — but that chapter had closed, and I needed my first “real” job.

My director at the time was one of those once-in-a-lifetime mentors. A retired Marine, an outdoorsman, and a proud girl dad, he had a way of protecting his people while pushing them forward. One day, he called me into his office and said, “I have a friend who needs help in his business. Go see him.”

So I did.

That’s how I met Dave Griggs.

Our first meeting was unremarkable at best. We sat in a makeshift office surrounded by clutter, and he explained he only needed part-time help. I politely thanked him and told him, just as firmly, that I needed a full-time job. I don’t remember exactly how the conversation ended — but somehow, I walked out as employee number five and the only woman on the team.

I knew nothing about flooring. Nothing about paint beyond watching it get mixed at Sears. And I knew very little about business outside of textbooks and a parking office.

Dave liked doing things himself, so in the beginning, I mostly followed him around and helped wherever I could. Over time, his confidence in me grew — and so did my roles. I became a salesperson, a designer, a bookkeeper, the IT administrator, and eventually, his confidant.

All the while, I kept telling myself, I’ll stay for a while… and then I’ll find a “real” job in my field.

But life, as it tends to do, had other plans.

I met my soul mate and the three small children who would become my bonus kids. My father was diagnosed with cancer, and I now found myself the adult who needed to help her parents. Somewhere along the way, I justified my career path by telling myself, Well, carpet is a textile, so this still counts.

By then, I had settled deeply into the financial and operational side of the business — handling accounts receivable, payables, accounting, and eventually HR. My title became Chief Financial Officer, which is about as “chief” as you can be in a small business.

There were years I felt grounded — caring for my husband and my family.And years I didn’t feel like I was enough — because I had only ever had one real job.

After years behind a desk, my confidence and social skills started to fade. That’s when Dave decided I needed to network. Looking back, I think that’s when the idea of me someday becoming an owner first crossed his mind — long before it ever crossed mine.

Dave was a master networker. I had seen him work a room, build relationships, and everyone knew his name. I knew I had enormous shoes to fill.

He encouraged me to join Women’s Network through the Chamber of Commerce. I’ll be honest — it was terrifying. Suddenly, I was in a room full of polished, accomplished executive women, and my entire career had been spent in one business.

I gave myself tasks: meet one new person, have one real conversation, show up again next month.

A few of those women became friends. They encouraged me to get involved, to volunteer, to step forward instead of staying safe in the background.

Meanwhile, the business continued to grow. As Dave aged, conversations about ownership began — quietly at first, then more seriously. When the time finally came, we found ourselves communicating more through email than face-to-face. The emotions were too heavy for both of us.

By then, Dave wasn’t just a boss. I had buried both my parents. He never replaced them — but he became something far more than a mentor.

When we signed the papers and transferred ownership, my mind was loud with doubt.

Can I do this?
What happens without Dave?
Will people like me the way they like him?
Will my employees panic and quit?

That same year, I was elected as for Chair of Women’s Network. I thought it would help introduce me as a new business owner.

What I didn’t expect was how many people suddenly wanted to meet me — not for connection, but to sell to me. It was a crash course in boundaries, discernment, and learning the difference between transactions and relationships.

From there, things snowballed.

I was elected to the Flooring America Advisory Council.
Then the Chamber Board.
Then the Executive Board.
Eventually, I became Chairman of the Chamber.

Awards followed. Invitations followed. I found myself in rooms I never imagined I’d walk into.

And still, sometimes, I felt like I was just filling the space Dave once held — fast-forwarded into visibility in a world that still often sees construction and flooring as a man’s field.

All the while, I was retraining my brain:
From being the keeper of Dave’s business…
To becoming the master of my own.

Imposter syndrome still visits from time to time — but it doesn’t stay as long as it used to.

People often ask why I haven’t changed the name of the business.

There are a few reasons.

First, the name Dave Griggs has decades of trust and recognition behind it in this community — and that matters.
Second, I haven’t yet found the perfect name for what comes next as we welcome new generations of customers and employees.
And finally, keeping the name still feels like a thank-you — a quiet tribute to the man who mentored me into this life.

I wrestle with what it means to build a personal brand as a woman in business. How much should I share? Do our clients even care who I am beyond the floors we install?

But here’s what I know.

This has been my real job for over three decades. I’ve given blood, sweat, and tears to these walls. I’ve celebrated here. I’ve cried here.

And through it all, my goal has stayed the same:
That our community and our customers know we are real people doing real work with real care.

Outside these doors, I am a wife. A mom. A grandmother to four.
I have two rescued miniature schnauzers.
I still talk to my best friend from ninth grade every single day.
I love fashion, décor, gardening, and making artsy things with my hands.

I am competitive.
I am fiercely protective of my herd — my family, which includes every one of my employees.

I don’t always get it right. I don’t always know where I’m going.
But I set goals. I make lists. And when I give my word, I keep it.

So here we are.
January 27th.
Thirty-four years in.

Still only one real job.

And I’m loving it.

Michele