I Didn't Go Bankrupt. I Chose to Close.

On January 23, I had a health scare. I was on the verge of a heart attack. That line opened the letter I sent to close my agency.

I didn't go bankrupt. I chose to close. There's a difference. One happens to you. The other is a decision you make with your eyes open, and then you own every part of it.

Why close a business that was still standing?

After the health scare and the collapse that followed, I had a choice. I could keep Primof running on momentum and hope, or I could be honest about what I could carry. Keeping it open would have looked braver from the outside. It would have meant clients slowly noticing that the work was slipping, and a team quietly wondering where things were headed.

I decided that the people who depended on me deserved honesty, not a slow decline. So I did the harder thing. I named the ending and I handled it.

How do you close an agency the right way?

I started with the clients. I wrote a personal transition letter to every one of them. Not a mass email. A real letter that named where they stood and what came next.

Then I turned to my team. I reviewed every team member, and for the ones who performed well, I wrote endorsement letters. I wanted them to walk into their next thing with my name behind their work, on paper, with no ambiguity.

Closing something with integrity is a braver act of leadership than refusing to let it die.

How did you decide who to endorse?

I used three questions for each person. They kept me honest and kept the endorsements meaningful.

• Does this person do good work?
• Can I put my name behind their results?
• Would I work with them again?

If the answer to all three was yes, I wrote the letter. An endorsement only matters if it is true. I was not going to hand out reference letters like party favors. The people who earned a strong one deserved to know exactly where they stood, and so did anyone who would hire them next.

What I'd tell another founder facing this

There is a quiet belief among founders that you never close. You pivot, you push, you survive. But sometimes closing the door is the most responsible thing you can do. Not because you failed, but because the people who depend on you deserve a clean ending they can build on.

I built Primof, and I closed it on my own terms. The agency is gone. The way I closed it is mine to keep, and so is what I'm building next.