How the Car Business Changed Me Forever

Last week, my husband, a few friends from Toastmasters, and I attended a service at the Mennonite church in London, Ohio. After the service, we found ourselves chatting in the hallway, and, as conversations often do, the topic of our Buy Here Pay Here car business came up. Pastor Preston, with genuine curiosity, asked me a simple but surprisingly loaded question: “Do you miss it?”

In hindsight, I wish I had paused to think before answering. Instead, my response felt rushed and, frankly, not my best. I mentioned a photo I had recently posted on Facebook—a celebratory picture with a young woman who had just paid off her car. She’s part of a family with a long history with our business, and I joked that she’s “crazy” (something I’ve said to her face before) and noted that she’s the only one in her family to ever go full term and pay off their vehicle.

Then, I casually added that I didn’t really miss the business because of the drama it sometimes brought. As I spoke, I noticed Pastor Preston’s expression shift slightly—just enough to make me aware that I wasn’t presenting myself, or my experiences, in the best light. Feeling the awkwardness settle in my body, I tried to pivot, adding that we still had about 30 accounts out there and that those customers had been wonderful and easy to deal with.

Still, as I walked away from the conversation, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I had missed an opportunity to share something deeper and more reflective of what that chapter of my life had truly meant. I expect more from myself, and I couldn’t help but wonder: Why did I answer like that? Why did I let the moment slip by?

The Facebook post had me thinking about the car business, so when Pastor Preston asked the question, those thoughts were fresh in my mind. At the time of the post, my feelings had been all over the place. When the young woman and I met at the title office, we reminisced about the many situations we had been through with her family over the years. She’s the only person in her family, out of six cars, who actually paid off her vehicle. The topic was too fresh, and I slipped into gossip and bad behavior when talking with her, which then carried over to my conversation at church.

As I’ve shared before, gossip and bad behavior were once a big part of who I was. When I first stepped into the car business, I was constantly confronted with situations where customers weren’t paying and had countless excuses as to why. I engaged in a lot of complaining and gossiping about them with coworkers and friends.

As I started to grow and evolve as a person, I noticed how gossiping and complaining didn’t feel good in my body. Wanting to break that cycle, I began to notice when I was gossiping or complaining, took a breath, and reframed my words. I realized that if I wanted to create a better workplace, I needed to attract more reliable customers. So, we raised our qualifications and standards.

We made the business accessible by offering a $500 “Drive Away” deal, with an additional $1,000 due over 45 to 60 days depending on the customer’s available cash. We required customers to have been at their job for 90 days and to have no evictions on their credit. These changes allowed us to finance more qualified customers while still offering in-house financing—my money on the line.

It was a hard adjustment. I wanted to help everyone, but I saw over and over what happened when I broke my own rules and sold a car to someone who didn’t qualify just because I wanted to help. Often, we were people’s last option for getting a car. If you had a bad credit score, a repo, less than six months at a job, or very little money to put down, it was tough to find a business willing to take a chance on you. I started taking fewer chances, breaking my own rules less often—though I still slipped occasionally and paid the price.

The car business was the biggest catalyst for my personal growth. It taught me to raise my standards, work smarter, and value myself. While I don’t miss the business itself, I do miss the people. I miss the friends who stopped in to make a payment and chat about their kids, the ones I still message on Facebook, and the ones I bump into at Walmart and catch up with. There are even some I’m sad not to speak to anymore, people I helped through tough times when they needed a few extra weeks to get back on track.

Of course, there were also the difficult stories—the four people who managed to steal cars because I trusted too much, the ones who neglected their vehicles and called to say it was broken down on the side of the road and I could come pick it up. The stories are wild.

Just yesterday, a rep from a finance company stopped by to ask about working with us. When I told him we were out of the car business, he kept asking if I’d consider getting back in. My answer was a firm no. While this chapter of my life was transformative, it’s slowly coming to a close. We still have about 30 accounts, and in another 18 months, we’ll officially turn the page on this season of my life.

Some chapters, challenges, and experiences are here for a reason or a season. For me, the car business was both. I look back with honor and gratitude, knowing it shaped me into who I am today. I miss the people, but I don’t miss being in the business.