She Almost Bankrupted Her Company by Caring Too Much

There’s a moment in my conversation with Amy Peterson that I can’t stop thinking about.

It’s 2016. Rebel Nell, her social enterprise employing women transitioning out of shelter living, is drowning. Not because sales are bad, though they are. Not because the product isn’t working, though that’s suffering too.

She’s drowning because she cares too much.

Amy was spending zero time on sales. All her energy went to solving crises for the women she employed. Housing emergencies. Legal issues. Gang relocations. She was acting as caseworker, counselor, and crisis manager for problems she had no training to solve.

“I was actually gonna shut our doors,” she told me.

Here’s what hit me: the same empathy that made Amy start Rebel Nell was the thing nearly killing it. And I think this is the trap most purpose-driven founders never see coming.

We start these businesses because we care. We care about the planet, our communities, and people who’ve been left behind. That caring is the engine. It’s why we get up at 4 AM, skip vacations, and pour our savings into things that might not work.

But caring without boundaries isn’t sustainability. It’s martyrdom.

Amy’s team actually had to intervene. They told her the world needed more of what Rebel Nell was doing, and that meant keeping the doors open. That meant running it like a business. That meant creating what Amy calls “a protective layer” between herself and every crisis that walked through the door.

She spun off all the supportive services into a nonprofit called T.E.A. The business could focus on being a business. The mission could continue without bankrupting the mission.

“If we don’t have a business, we can’t help anybody,” she said.

I’ve been saying some version of this for years. Social enterprises have more to lose than traditional businesses. We have the business to lose AND the impact to lose. But hearing Amy describe the moment she nearly lost both of them landed differently.

What struck me most wasn’t the crisis. It was what happened after.

Amy didn’t harden. She didn’t become some detached CEO who only cares about the bottom line. She built what she calls an “understanding workplace” where employees can share their needs, and the environment adapts to them. She’s still deeply invested in the women she employs.

But now there are boundaries. Systems. Protection.

She found a way to care sustainably.

Ten years later, Rebel Nell has employed over 45 women. The business is profitable. Amy opened two more community venues and started another nonprofit.

She figured out what I think every purpose-driven founder eventually has to figure out: empathy is the spark, but structure is what keeps the fire burning.

Where in your own business is caring without boundaries threatening the thing you built?