Matt Feret:

Hey everybody. My guest today has lived two very different lives.

From his late teens through his 30s, he devoted nearly every waking hour to building a business from the ground up. That company, Pareto FM, operated in the facilities management and services space, helping large organizations run, maintain, and manage complex physical operations.

Andrew built a company that emphasized strong leadership, strong culture, and treating people better than the industry norm. Over time, that business grew into a large organization with hundreds of employees and tens of millions of dollars in annual revenue. Eventually, he sold it in a nine-figure private equity exit. Count those numbers: a nine-figure exit.

Then he pressed pause.

The latest chapter of his life has been about slowing down, being present with his family, rediscovering everyday routines, and rethinking what success actually means once the chase is over.

This conversation isn't about hustle culture, building a business from scratch, or even business tactics. It's about choices, trade-offs, identity, and what happens after a long season of work, whether that work was building a company, building a career, or simply showing up every day to provide for your family.

My guest today is Andrew Hulbert.

Andrew, welcome to The Matt Feret Show.

Andrew Hulbert:

Really great to be here. Thank you so much.

That is an amazing introduction. I must record that one. Thank you. Fantastic.

I actually need to watch this podcast back now. I don't often get to that point, so there you go.

Matt Feret:

It's recorded. You'll be able to hear it.

For people meeting you for the first time, tell us what you do today, how long you've been doing it, and how you went from building a massive business nonstop for years to a very different kind of life now.

Andrew Hulbert:

What do I do today? That's a good question.

I'm 39 years old. I live on a farm in Oxfordshire, which is a very English thing to do. I have a vegetable patch and fruit trees that give us produce for making jam. We make sourdough bread and all that sort of thing. I also have a quad bike, or an ATV as you call it.

Today, I'm a father first. That's the most important thing.

My children are four and six years old, and I've been retired for a couple of years now. As you mentioned, I sold the business two years ago.

Today, I'm a non-executive director, so I support various businesses in a non-executive capacity, helping them grow and sometimes helping them exit. I'm also Chairman of the Institute of Workplace and Facilities Management in the UK, which is the governing body for the sector I worked in. It's one of the largest sectors in the country and ranks around seventh in terms of contribution to GDP.

As I mentioned, my children are four and six, so you'll mainly find me doing the school run, making breakfast, packing lunches, taking them swimming, helping with homework, and being very present in their lives. I'm also reconnecting with my wife, my wider family, and my friends.

That's where you'll find me today.

I'm not in a rush anymore.

I really liked what you said about pressing pause. Two years later, the pause button is still pressed, and that's a pretty amazing feeling.

Would you like me to tell you a bit about the journey that got me here, or where would you like me to begin?

Matt Feret:

I was just going to ask about that.

Going from more than a decade of full-time focus on building Pareto, what did that actually look like? Day to day, from the time you started until the time you sold, what did that season of your life look like?

Andrew Hulbert:

If I'm honest, it wasn't a pretty place, and I can't pretend I was always a wonderful person during those years.

The reality was probably four or five hours of sleep a night, which is very difficult to sustain over a long period of time.

I'd get up around 5 a.m. and get home around 7 p.m. I'd see my children for maybe 15 or 20 minutes, give them a bath, hand them back to my wife, and then get back on the laptop until midnight or later to catch up on all the administration I'd missed during the day because I'd been out doing sales and meeting clients.

It was also a Saturday and Sunday job.

I tried to take Saturday afternoons off because I love football, and that's when most of our matches are on in the UK. But beyond that, buildings never sleep.

In facilities management, real estate, and property services, issues don't only happen between 8 a.m. and 5 p.m. So I didn't switch off for a very long time, probably the full nine years.

I took one holiday longer than a week during that period, but every holiday still involved my laptop and my phone. With WhatsApp and modern communication, you're always connected to the business.

I was relentlessly focused.

One hundred and twenty hours a week wasn't unusual.

I was 27 when I started the company and 37 when I exited, so that was a full decade of my life.

I lived in Oxfordshire, but most of our work was in London, so I would commute four or five hours every day. I rarely stayed in London because I wanted to at least see my children for a little while each evening.

That's the reality of my life up until age 37.

Honestly, I've probably slept more in the last two years than I did during the previous eight years combined. I've been making up for lost time.

Matt Feret:

I'm surprised your health didn't completely deteriorate over that period.

I think most people would agree that's an extreme example.

That said, a lot of people can still relate to the focus on work. Maybe not 120 hours a week, but whether they built a company, worked in a demanding profession, or spent decades in a career, many people understand that total focus on work.

Looking back, what do you think that period gave you, and what did it quietly take away from you?

Andrew Hulbert:

In terms of what it gave me, it taught me discipline and communication.

Before starting Pareto, I worked in the property sector for six years. I went to university and then joined a small facilities management company that was doing around $10 million in annual revenue. I worked there for four years.

I wasn't working 120 hours a week, but I was working 80-hour weeks even as a fresh graduate.

I worked hard from the very beginning.

My family were workers too. My dad spent 42 years in a factory. My mum worked in a supermarket for 30 years. I came from a family that worked long hours, worked hard, and often prioritized work over other things.

After four years at that company, we were acquired by Bilfinger, the large German engineering and services company. Overnight, we went from being a $10 million business to being part of a $10 billion organization.

I struggled with that change.

Running my own business became one of the only things I could imagine doing.

The reason I became successful was simple: my communication skills were strong, and I was always available.

There's a saying: Give work to busy people.

I was the busy person.

People gave me work because they knew it would get done. If it meant working three extra hours, I worked three extra hours. I didn't complain. I didn't ask for a raise. I wasn't asking to work from home.

I simply did what was right for the business.

That work ethic got me promoted. It got me bonuses. It got me opportunities.

Eventually, it helped me build a business that generated an eight-figure personal outcome.

But what did it take away?

Relationships.

Just before we started recording, we briefly talked about divorce. Thankfully, I never went through one. But many entrepreneurs do, whether they're men or women.

Entrepreneurs are often selfish by nature. We become focused on goals. We don't always put our partners at the center.

I met my wife, Heather, on the very first day of university when we were both 19 years old. I held the door open for her as an English gentleman would, and we've been together ever since.

We've been together for 20 years now.

But for nine of those years, I wasn't really there.

Andrew Hulbert:

Just to put what I was saying into context, most of the time when I tell this story, people ask, "How did your wife cope with you doing that for nine years?"

So that was the context of the divorce conversation. I certainly wasn't talking about your own situation. I apologize for that.

Matt Feret:

No need to apologize.

I just thought it would be funny if someone in my family listened to this and suddenly wondered what I was talking about.

Andrew Hulbert:

Especially when you're staying with your in-laws at the moment. That would be a terrible time to have that conversation.

Matt Feret:

You've been very open about the trade-offs.

The friendships that were put on pause. The family moments that were missed. The personal costs that never show up on a balance sheet or in the size of an exit.

When you were in the middle of it, did those costs feel like conscious decisions, or did they simply feel like the price of doing what you thought you were supposed to do?

Andrew Hulbert:

I was an incredibly headstrong 27-year-old, and nobody was going to stop me from doing what I wanted to do.

My family never stood in the way. They were always there to support me.

To some degree—and I don't necessarily agree with this mindset now—I justified it in my own head as the price I needed to pay for success.

The thing is, success is different for everybody, and that's a really important point.

My mum used to stack shelves in a supermarket. Eventually she moved onto the tills, and one day the store manager said, "You've been here for 20 years. You're brilliant. Would you like to become my PA?"

She moved off the shop floor and into the office, handling emails and administrative work.

For my mum, that was a huge moment of achievement. She had made it.

For me, success eventually became reaching eight figures personally, but the deeper goal was much simpler than that.

I wanted to get rid of the alarm clock.

I didn't want somebody telling me what to do every day. I wanted to wake up when I wanted to wake up and spend time on the things that mattered most to me.

Family was a huge part of that.

Because of that vision, I was able to justify the sacrifices.

About six years into the nine-year journey, when my daughter had been born, my wife started saying, "We have children now. You need to be here more. You need to be a present father."

It was a completely fair challenge.

I agreed with her, and I said, "Give me three years. Just give me three years to get this out of my system and finish what I started. Then I'll step back."

Two and a half years later, we successfully exited the business.

That promise gave me absolute focus.

I'm a very driven person. I'm very narrow in terms of how I pursue goals. There were plenty of times when my wife would ask me to do something or spend time together, and I would have to say, "I'm sorry, I need to prioritize the business."

Those weren't easy conversations.

It was incredibly important that we maintained warmth, intimacy, and connection during that period because otherwise it would have been very easy for the relationship to fail.

And once children enter the picture, everything becomes even more complicated.

Matt Feret:

I can imagine.

Massive exit or not, that's a lot for your wife and your children.

A lot for your wife to tolerate.

Andrew Hulbert:

Absolutely.

And honestly, if I was even home for dinner, it felt like a miracle. Most days I was arriving just before bedtime so I could help bathe the children.

I actually spoke at a global women's conference recently with an incredible woman named Mirela Sula.

I stood in front of 75 women and explained that my wife is the real hero of this story.

Yes, I built the company. Yes, I worked hard. Yes, I sold hundreds of millions of pounds worth of services.

But my wife held everything together.

She raised the children. She kept the home functioning. She continued supporting me even when I wasn't giving much back.

That's one of the realities of entrepreneurship.

If someone is considering starting a business, I would encourage them to look carefully at their relationships and ask themselves a difficult question:

Who is going to survive the struggle?

Because the struggle is real.

Many of the entrepreneurs I work with today are no longer with their original partners. They're in their fifties and looking for new relationships because the first ones didn't survive the journey.

Matt Feret:

That's not exactly a ringing endorsement for entrepreneurship.

Andrew Hulbert:

No, it isn't.

But when you asked what entrepreneurship can take away from you, that's one of the biggest risks.

Matt Feret:

Many people listening may not be entrepreneurs at all.

They may have spent their entire careers working for someone else.

But the idea of tying identity to self-worth is universal. Whether you're a business owner or an employee, people often define themselves through their work.

At what point did you realize how much of your identity was wrapped up in what you were building?

Andrew Hulbert:

That's a really good question.

For a long time, Andrew was Pareto and Pareto was Andrew.

The two were completely intertwined.

I was comfortable with that because I had built a personal brand that reflected the same values as the business. We believed in supporting people on lower wages, creating a great place to work, promoting diversity, and emphasizing teamwork.

For example, nobody in our company received individual bonuses.

If a bonus was paid, everyone in the management team received one.

No individual rewards.

My belief was simple: we win together and we lose together.

Long before I started Pareto, I had already built a reputation in the industry. I had won awards, written articles, given interviews, and appeared in industry publications.

People knew who I was.

So when I launched the company, even though I started in my bedroom with nothing more than a laptop and no money, I already had industry credibility.

The bigger challenge came later.

Once we knew a nine-figure exit was becoming realistic, it became clear that Andrew couldn't be the person leading the company through that process forever.

We needed an entirely new senior leadership team.

Most importantly, we needed a CEO who could take the business forward independently of me.

That was probably one of the biggest decisions we ever made.

Fortunately, we got it right.

We hired an outstanding leadership team, they successfully led the company through the investment process, and that allowed me to step back into a non-executive role.

That was really the moment when I began separating my identity from the business.

I'll give you a practical example.

For ten years, I didn't even have a personal phone number.

I only had a work phone.

That's how connected I was.

The day we completed the exit, I got my first personal phone number.

Then I turned off every work-related notification and turned on only my personal notifications.

Before the exit, my life was probably 95% work and 5% personal.

After the exit, it became 95% personal and 5% work.

I was deliberately rebalancing my life.

Matt Feret:

That's a dramatic example of flipping a switch.

Your identity had been wrapped around the business 24 hours a day, seven days a week.

Many people struggle to disconnect from work, even after retirement.

Was it really as easy as you're describing, or did it need to be that decisive for you to successfully separate your identity from the company?

Andrew Hulbert:

That's probably the question I get asked most often.

Since I started podcasting a few months ago, people always want to know what life was like after the exit.

They ask about depression. They ask about mental health. They ask whether I struggled.

I wasn't really prepared for those questions because it wasn't something that affected me in the way many people assume.

However, I can tell you what helped.

During the exit process, I worked with a business psychologist named Stuart Duff from Pearn Kandola for about six to eight weeks.

I was completely honest with him.

It felt like therapy.

I told him everything I was feeling, every insecurity, every concern, every fear.

And he gave me a perspective that completely changed how I viewed the transition.

He said:

"Andrew, you're like an Olympic athlete. You've spent years training for a single moment."

At some point, the swimmer reaches the island.

At some point, the athlete wins the medal.

The important question isn't how you get there.

The important question is:

What happens after you arrive?

Andrew Hulbert:

You couldn't pay me enough money in the world to give that up, because that's where I find genuine joy.

Every morning my daughter comes running into our room at about 7 a.m. She jumps on me, gives me a cuddle, and we wrestle around for ten minutes. Then my son wakes up and joins in, usually with what feels like WWE wrestling moves.

It's chaos, but it's wonderful.

You couldn't pay me enough money to never experience that again.

After taking the children to school, my wife and I often go for brunch. We leave our phones in the car and spend 45 minutes simply talking. We have quality time together, we're less stressed, and we have the opportunity to reconnect in ways we couldn't before.

We also don't have money worries anymore.

That matters.

When financial pressure disappears, decision-making becomes much easier. That shouldn't be underestimated.

I always knew what was important to me.

For context, I grew up in the UK on what we call a council estate, which is government-funded housing. My grandparents moved there in the 1950s after World War II. They initially lived in a caravan before eventually being given a house.

My roots come from community, modest means, and family.

When I was growing up, every Sunday without fail, around 30 family members would gather at my grandmother's house for dinner. It was completely non-negotiable. Whatever else was happening, everybody showed up.

That sense of community shaped me.

As my business grew, I became aware that I had removed myself from that community. I had become too busy.

After the exit, I wanted to put myself back into it.

Working with a business psychologist helped me recognize that.

One thing people don't always think about is what life is actually going to feel like after a financial exit. They're often focused on the sports car they're going to buy or the luxury lifestyle they imagine.

They don't think about what comes next.

If you'll indulge me, I'll share a story.

One of the first things that happened after the money arrived was that it landed in my bank account.

Now, for anyone who's never had tens of millions of pounds deposited into an account before, let me tell you something:

You need to move it.

Because your debit card still works.

You don't really want someone accidentally making a million-pound purchase on your card.

Matt Feret:

Wait a minute.

You put all of it in your checking account?

Andrew Hulbert:

I did.

Every penny landed in my current account before I moved it elsewhere.

The challenge was that I could only transfer £250,000 at a time, so it took several transactions.

But if that's the biggest problem you have that day, life is probably going pretty well.

One of the first things I did was take a trip on the Caledonian Sleeper, which is a train that runs from London all the way to the north of Scotland.

It's very Harry Potter-esque.

I booked a private cabin and traveled alone.

No laptop.

No social media.

No business calls.

No distractions.

Just music and the view outside the window.

For two days I traveled across Scotland, eventually reaching the far north. Then I rented a car and drove all the way to the northernmost point simply because I wanted to say I'd been there.

That trip became the beginning of my decompression process.

I wasn't worried about Andrew the entrepreneur anymore.

I wasn't worried about Andrew the founder.

It's almost like the ending of The Lion King when the sun rises again.

My family was there waiting for me, and I knew I could finally become part of that world again.

The other thing I did was secure my family financially.

I bought homes for family members so they wouldn't have mortgages.

I gave my dad roughly a quarter of a million pounds so he could retire early. He was still working in that factory I'd talked about earlier, and he was genuinely worried he might spend the rest of his life there.

He was 62 at the time.

The way I delivered the money was ridiculous.

I withdrew £250,000 in cash, stuffed it into a Sainsbury's shopping bag, climbed onto my quad bike wearing a hoodie, flip-flops, and no helmet, and drove it to my parents' house.

I don't recommend this strategy.

I arrived with a card that said, Happy Retirement.

My dad knew I had sold the business, but he had no idea what I was planning.

He opened the card and asked, "What does this mean?"

Then I emptied a quarter of a million pounds onto the floor.

My mum immediately started crying.

My sisters happened to be there too.

It was one of the most special moments of my life.

My parents sacrificed a tremendous amount for us growing up. My mum worked three jobs while raising three children. My dad worked incredibly hard his entire life.

To be able to give something back and tell them I could now take care of them was incredibly meaningful.

Today there are five grandchildren in our family.

My parents are basically full-time grandparents now, and they absolutely love it.

And yes, my wife and I enjoy dropping the kids off with them occasionally so we can disappear for brunch.

So when people ask how I handled the transition, the answer is simple:

It was deliberate.

I worked with a psychologist.

I planned for it.

I understood what was coming.

And that's the same advice I give entrepreneurs today.

You don't just wake up one morning, buy an Aston Martin, and suddenly live happily ever after.

That's not how it works.

The reality is that when you're 37 years old and financially independent, your friends are still working.

They still have jobs.

They still have schedules.

Life doesn't magically stop.

That's one reason I threw myself into fatherhood.

My children were two and four years old when I exited.

Being a father gave me purpose.

It gave structure to my days.

And honestly, I've had a wonderful couple of years because of it.

Matt Feret:

That's a real thing people don't think about.

What do you actually do all day when everyone else is still working?

Andrew Hulbert:

Exactly.

My days are still busy.

I'm up at seven.

The children need to be out the door by 8:30.

Then there are household responsibilities.

We live on a farm now, and while we don't have animals yet, farms have a way of creating endless work.

Things grow.

Fences break.

People wander onto your land.

There is always something that needs attention.

I've also become much more focused on legacy.

I know it sounds strange talking about legacy before turning 40, but it's important to me.

One thing I did was plant a forest on our property.

Right now they're just saplings.

But I love the idea behind it.

There's a saying that the most selfless thing you can do is plant a tree you'll never live long enough to see fully grown.

I love imagining my great-great-grandchildren walking through that forest one day and saying:

"My grandfather was a bit crazy, but he planted all of this."

That's meaningful to me.

Another thing I've focused on is blood donation.

I've always donated blood, but over the last two years I've donated platelets and plasma every 14 days.

At this point, I'm probably one of the most frequent blood donors in the world.

I'm six-foot-three and around 260 pounds, so they can take quite a bit from me each time.

I also enjoy writing little stories for the local newspapers.

When people search my name today, they'll find entrepreneur stories and business articles.

But I like the idea that my children might one day discover these smaller stories too.

Stories about planting trees.

Stories about helping people.

Stories about life beyond business.

Andrew Hulbert:

It was almost like, when I went out to sell services, I was stepping onto a stage.

I became a character.

It wasn't really Andrew, the person. It was Andrew, the business leader.

So if someone didn't like me, that was fine. They didn't dislike me. They disliked the character I was presenting in that environment.

Fortunately, we were winning eight out of ten tender contracts at one point, so there was plenty of positive validation. But I was never overly concerned with what other people thought.

That goes back to a question I raised earlier:

What is success?

I think that's one of the most important questions people can ask themselves.

Whatever success means to you, that's what success is.

You can't spend your life comparing yourself to other people because you'll always find someone who's more successful.

Even when I was young, I wasn't worried about having the latest clothes, being the fittest person, having a six-pack, or lifting the most weight.

I simply wanted to enjoy what I was doing and spend time with people I liked.

I've always been a very social person. I enjoyed bringing people together and organizing things.

Honestly, one of the biggest disappointments I could imagine at 17 years old was organizing a party and nobody showing up.

That would have felt terrible.

Although, to be fair, I was one of the first people in my friend group who looked old enough to buy alcohol, so that made me surprisingly popular.

It's amazing how easy it is to make friends when you can buy alcohol before everyone else.

These days, the validation I seek comes from somewhere entirely different.

It comes from my family.

If I ever did something that caused my children, my wife, or especially my mum to lose respect for me, that would hurt me deeply.

My mum is still one of my best friends.

I live my life in a way that protects those relationships.

I travel a lot now, but I don't do anything reckless.

I'm not using drugs.

I'm not chasing extremes.

I just want to experience life.

Even with my blood donations every couple of weeks, there are certain things I can't do because I have a responsibility to remain healthy and protect the people receiving those donations.

For me, all of these things connect together.

I've never really struggled with comparing myself to others.

I wish I had an answer that would help more people, especially men.

In the UK, male depression and suicide remain major issues for men under 45. A large part of that comes from feeling inadequate. They feel they aren't earning enough money. They don't spend enough time with their children. They feel pressure from work.

Life is hard.

I understand that.

But I've always done things my own way.

I've played to my own tune.

I've danced to my own rhythm.

And that's worked well for me.

Matt Feret:

A lot of people assume that once financial pressure disappears, everything else falls into place.

You've described what sounds like a very intentional transition away from the company you spent years building and toward a new purpose.

But did everything really fall into place as easily as it sounds?

Andrew Hulbert:

I almost feel guilty saying this, but yes, it largely did.

The reason it worked wasn't luck.

It was preparation.

I had spent years putting markers in place so I knew what life would look like afterward.

When I was at my most stressed, there were a handful of things I dreamed about doing someday.

Those things became my personal definition of success.

I'll give you one example.

My family is enormous.

There are about 75 people in my immediate family.

Every Christmas there was always an argument about who was going to host everyone because nobody wanted 75 people descending on their house.

So once things settled down after the sale, I called all my aunties. They're the people who organize everything in our family.

I said:

"How would you feel if I rented an entire hotel for Christmas?"

"I'll pay for everything. The rooms, the food, the drinks. Everybody comes together, and for one year I get to say thank you."

They loved the idea.

In fact, most of them immediately asked if I could do it every year.

It cost around $20,000.

I rented an entire hotel in Oxfordshire, and our whole family spent Christmas together.

It was one of those days I'll never forget.

Those were the sorts of things I had imagined during the difficult years.

And once I had the opportunity, I made them happen.

The other major thing I did was buy the farm where we live now.

Our previous house was becoming too small. The children were growing up, toys were everywhere, and the house constantly felt busy.

I've always struggled to relax in a cluttered environment.

When this property became available, we knew it represented the beginning of the next chapter of our lives.

My wife absolutely hates moving house.

She looked at me and said:

"Andrew, if we buy this place, I need a commitment. We're staying here for 25 years."

I agreed.

Thankfully, it's a large property with multiple buildings, lots of land, and room for whatever the future brings.

We renovated it, made it our own, and started building the life we actually wanted.

Anyone who has ever moved house knows how consuming the process is.

You become completely absorbed by lawyers, contracts, moving companies, renovations, and logistics.

In many ways, that helped.

We didn't sit around dwelling on the exit.

Instead, we immediately started building our future together.

For the first time in years, my wife and I truly felt like a team again.

We argued less.

We supported each other more.

We focused on shared goals rather than simply surviving.

That was incredibly important.

Because if the relationship had remained distant and strained, all the money in the world wouldn't have fixed that.

The biggest lesson I've learned is this:

Money doesn't give you happiness.

Money gives you the opportunity to create happiness.

There's a huge difference.

It's not the number sitting in your bank account that makes you feel warm inside.

It's what that number allows you to do.

It's the ability to wake up without an alarm clock.

It's the freedom to spend time with the people you love.

It's what you choose to do with your time once the pressure disappears.

That's where the real wealth is.

People get distracted by the shiny cars, the private jets, and the helicopters.

Honestly?

None of that matters very much.

Being with the people I love matters infinitely more.

Matt Feret:

That's beautiful.

You mentioned something earlier that I want to revisit.

Especially for men, work, income, and net worth often become tightly connected to identity and self-worth.

How much of that pressure do you think comes from within, and how much comes from culture?

Andrew Hulbert:

I think a lot of it comes from culture.

In the UK, we have what I think of as a capitalist life curve.

You go to school.

Then you either start an apprenticeship or go to university.

You begin working in your early twenties.

You continue working until you're around 65.

Then you collect your pension and finally slow down.

That's the path most people are expected to follow.

It's certainly the path my parents followed.

I realized fairly early that it wasn't the path I wanted.

I didn't want to spend forty years working for someone else.

The challenge is that society encourages you to lock yourself into obligations very early.

You buy a house.

Then you have a mortgage.

You buy a car.

You get married.

You have children.

You take holidays.

The financial commitments just keep growing.

And many people end up trapped.

In the UK, there are plenty of people driving expensive cars they can't actually afford because they want others to think they're successful.

Men are especially vulnerable to that pressure.

I never really fell into that trap.

My favorite vehicle today is a 1959 Land Rover that barely makes it down the road.

That's the one I enjoy driving.

And then there's social media.

Social media has changed everything.

Young men constantly compare themselves to people who appear more successful.

Women compare themselves to unrealistic beauty standards.

Everyone sees the highlight reel.

Very few people see the sacrifices, effort, stress, and hardship behind those images.

We see the outcome but not the journey.

There are countless quotes about this idea:

Everyone wants the success.

Very few people want the process.

Social media amplifies that problem.

So yes, I think culture plays a huge role.

The structure of society pushes people in that direction.

And money worries are a very real source of stress for men.

There's no doubt about that.

Matt Feret:

The same thing is true here in the United States.

Given everything you've experienced, what do you wish more men understood earlier about success and self-worth?

Andrew Hulbert:

I think the biggest lesson is that you have more time than you think.

Everyone is rushing.

Everyone wants results immediately.

Everything is now, now, now.

Social media only makes that worse.

The reality is that meaningful success takes time.

You need time to build your network.

You need time to build skills.

You need time to earn trust.

You need time to grow.

Spend a few years learning your craft before demanding the promotion.

Be patient.

Be consistent.

Keep showing up.

I've always lived within my means.

Even before I had money, I never borrowed heavily to buy things I couldn't afford.

I saved first.

Then I bought what I wanted.

When I was sixteen, I wanted a small scooter that cost about £1,000.

It took me nearly a year to save enough money from my paper route and other jobs.

But I didn't finance it.

I saved for it.

Then I bought it.

That mindset stayed with me for life.

So my advice is simple:

Don't rush.

Don't bury yourself in debt.

Don't create financial obligations that prevent you from making good decisions.

If you need to wait another year before buying something, wait another year.

Do it in a way that gives you control.

Society loves quick wins.

Fast success.

Fast fashion.

Instant gratification.

But that's rarely how life actually works.

Slow down.

Enjoy where you are.

Because time moves faster than you think.

One day you wake up and you're 50 years old.

And that's when people realize how quickly everything passed.

Ironically, part of the reason I started my business at 27 was because I was terrified that if I didn't do it then, I might never do it at all.

I worried I'd wake up in my forties thinking:

"I should have started that business."

That fear pushed me forward.

Thankfully, it worked out.

But even now, after everything, I'd still say the same thing:

Life is short.

But life is also long.

Make the most of it.

 

Matt Feret:

You've talked throughout this conversation about slowing down and finding joy in very ordinary things.

Taking your children to school.

Daily routines.

Planting trees.

Being present in ways you hadn't been before.

For many people approaching retirement or another major life transition, there's often a loss of structure, status, and momentum.

What advice would you give someone who's stepping away from a long career and quietly asking themselves:

"Now what?"

Andrew Hulbert:

My advice would be to prepare, just as I did.

Start by asking yourself what is truly important to you.

Deep down, most of us already know.

It might be your dog.

It might be Formula One.

It might be horses.

It might be travel.

Everyone is different, and that's the beauty of being human.

Before you slow down, before you retire, before you wake up one day and your phone stops ringing, start building a plan.

It doesn't need to be complicated.

You can leave yourself voice notes.

You can write things down in a notebook.

One exercise I used to do regularly was keep a small notebook beside me and write down important lessons, mistakes, failures, or observations from the day.

What's fascinating is that when you write something down, it often feels like the biggest issue in the world.

Then you read it a few days later and think:

"Why was I so worried about that?"

I've always loved the process of writing things down because it forces you to ask:

"Is this important today?"

"Will it still be important tomorrow?"

And it helps you begin planning for the future.

I would also encourage people to set goals.

One of my goals was to take 75 family members to Christmas dinner and pay for the entire hotel.

That happened to be a financial goal, but goals can be anything.

Maybe you want to reconnect with an old friend.

Maybe you want to travel somewhere you've never been.

Maybe you want to learn a new skill.

Whatever it is, create something to work toward.

And once you've achieved it, start thinking about the next thing.

What does success look like now?

What do I want to work on next?

I'm fortunate these days because I tell my story on podcasts and occasionally people reach out asking if I want to invest in something, get involved in a project, or join a company.

Usually the answer is no.

But I'll listen.

And sometimes listening leads somewhere interesting.

You asked about health earlier, and that's an important part of this story too.

One of the sacrifices I made while building the business was neglecting my physical health.

I was eating too much.

I was drinking too much.

I was attending endless corporate events and networking functions.

At one point, my weight reached around 320 pounds.

Even for someone who's six-foot-three, that's a lot of weight.

Then, about seven months before the exit, when I knew the finish line was approaching, I woke up one day and decided I was going to change.

No medication.

No injections.

No shortcuts.

Just mindset.

I decided I was going to lose a significant amount of weight.

In seven months, I lost approximately 130 pounds.

At the same time, I was navigating the sale of the business and experiencing the highest levels of stress I'd ever known.

I eliminated sugar.

I eliminated alcohol.

I eliminated caffeine.

And I reduced my intake to around 500 calories a day.

Now let me be very clear:

I do not recommend anyone do that.

It was not healthy.

It was not sustainable.

But it is what I did.

For 150 consecutive days.

While simultaneously selling a company.

There were days when I wasn't particularly pleasant to be around.

I was hungry.

I was tired.

I was stressed.

But that's part of the extreme mentality that entrepreneurship created in me.

When I commit to a goal, I tend to go all in.

In the end, I became so thin that my wife finally looked at me and said:

"Andrew, I'm not attracted to skinny men."

"If we're going to spend more time together, I need something to hold onto."

So I deliberately gained about 30 pounds back.

And honestly, I enjoyed every doughnut and pizza involved in the process.

When I look at my life, there are several examples of that same mentality.

Building a business.

Losing weight.

Becoming one of the world's most active blood donors.

Those things all come from the same place.

I'm a goal setter.

I like to achieve something, complete it, and then move on to the next challenge.

I fully appreciate that's not normal.

But it's what works for me.

Matt Feret:

I think that observation really summarizes everything we've talked about today.

From the time you were a teenager saving for a 50cc scooter, you've been a goal-oriented person.

You set goals.

You write them down.

You create a plan.

And then you execute.

Whether it was buying that first scooter, purchasing your first home, starting a business, creating a company that reflected your values, or planning your life after the exit, it's been one goal after another.

What I'm hearing is this:

Figure out what success looks like to you.

Write it down.

Even if it's something nobody else would understand.

Then give yourself a target and work toward it.

Am I hearing that correctly?

Andrew Hulbert:

You are.

And honestly, talking about these things is almost therapeutic because most of us don't spend much time analyzing why we've made the decisions we've made.

Even the scooter example illustrates it.

When my wife and I bought our first house at 23, which is extremely young in the UK, I built a spreadsheet.

I knew exactly how much money we needed to save each month.

I knew the timeline.

I knew what sacrifices would be required.

It was always:

Go.

Go.

Go.

Go.

Go.

The key, though, is that you have to keep finding goals that genuinely excite you.

Right now, my current goal is visiting every country in the European Union.

In fact, I booked the final trip just before we started this interview.

Once I've completed it, I'll probably write to the local newspaper and tell them some crazy story about a man who visited every country in Europe.

And hopefully my children will discover it someday.

Goals matter.

But writing them down matters too.

Take weight loss as an example.

If my goal is to lose 120 pounds in ten months, then every single day I know exactly what actions I need to take.

I can measure my progress.

I can track whether I'm moving closer or further away.

I like that clarity.

I don't enjoy ambiguity.

I don't enjoy wondering whether something is happening.

I want to know.

And yes, I still get frustrated when things move slowly.

At the moment, I'm trying to purchase a nature reserve.

The lawyers have been working on it for around 15 weeks, and we still haven't completed the transaction.

That's incredibly frustrating to me.

The property has its own natural spring, and I'll eventually be able to bottle the water.

Maybe that'll become the next business.

Maybe it'll be called Hulbert Water.

We'll see.

Matt Feret:

Sounds like the entrepreneurial spirit is starting to reappear after two years.

Before we wrap up, one final question.

When you strip away the titles, the revenue, the bank account, and all the achievements, and you look both backward and forward, what are you most proud of as a person?

Andrew Hulbert:

What I'm most proud of is that I took the step.

I had ideas.

And I acted on them.

I tested them.

I took risks.

I gave them a chance.

I'm not the person who woke up at 50 or 60 years old wondering what might have happened if I'd tried.

I don't have major regrets.

And that's important to me.

Most of all, I hope my children see that.

I hope they see someone who was willing to try.

Someone who was willing to take a chance.

Whatever success means to them, I hope they'll pursue it with the same commitment.

That's the legacy I'm proudest of leaving behind.

Matt Feret:

Andrew, thank you.

This has been an incredibly powerful conversation.

Andrew Hulbert:

Thank you so much.

Honestly, this has been one of the deepest podcast conversations I've had.

I've really enjoyed it.

Thank you for asking thoughtful questions that went beyond the surface level.

That's rare.

I appreciate your openness as well.

Matt Feret:

Thank you.

Andrew's story resonates not simply because of the size of the company he built and sold, but because it raises questions that apply to all of us.

Questions about work.

Identity.

Family.

Success.

And how we want the next chapter of life to feel.

So once again, thank you to Andrew for joining me today.

And thank you to everyone listening and watching for being part of this community focused on living with intention, perspective, and purpose.

Until next time, I'm Matt Feret.

Thanks for listening.