When growing your business makes you miserable

Boxers & Briefs Podcast #48: Downsizing and using happiness as a metric for business success with Liz Williams

Not every successful business is a big business. Sometimes it’s not about scaling size but about scaling happiness. And no one knows this better than private investigator Liz Williams.

---

In this episode of Boxes and Briefs, Liz shares her story of starting her own investigating agency, how quickly her business grew, and the moment she realised having a large business wasn’t actually making her happy. We get into the steps she took towards downsizing, and how she measures success in her business today. The answer might just surprise you.

Liz Williams is the co-owner of Williams Investigations, an Auckland-based investigation company. She has 24 years of policing experience where she served as a Detective and Detective Sergeant. These days she is the main face of Williams Investigations, specialising in criminal investigations, employment investigations, insurance fraud, workplace mediation, document process serving, and locating individuals. Liz is also the author of two autobiographies: Does this make my gun look big? and Five Foot and Fearless.

Hollywood got it wrong about private investigators

“Everybody thinks that,” Liz laughs when asked about the biggest misconception in her field. The Hollywood version of private investigation.

She blames the movies. Spending four hours reviewing a criminal investigation file doesn’t make for exciting conversation. Mention something salacious and that’s what sticks in people’s minds.

Some agencies do specialise in relationship work. Liz doesn’t. Though she’d take the work if it came her way. It just hasn’t yet.

Her actual workload looks different. Criminal investigations for defence lawyers make up the bulk of it. Insurance fraud investigations come next. The kind where someone claims their house burnt down when it didn’t. Though Liz notes that would be a straightforward case to crack.

Insurance companies flag suspicious claims through their internal systems. When those claims need investigation, when people need interviewing, that’s when private investigators get called in.

And yes, fraud is common. It was climbing when Liz worked that space regularly. Financial pressure creates opportunity, and people take it.

Interestingly, insurance fraudsters aren’t career criminals. They’re ordinary people with clean records. Good people, generally. They’ll tell Liz a complete lie without flinching. No hesitation, no guilt.

Her job isn’t to judge. It’s to gather evidence. Prove or disprove the story. That’s the whole gig when you’re a private investigator. Deep diving into matters that need proving or disproving outside police jurisdiction.

The workplace problems police won’t investigate

Police handle criminal offences. That’s their mandate. But workplace issues often fall outside that scope, even when there’s something dodgy happening.

That’s where private investigators come in.

‘I think someone is stealing from me’ ranks as one of the most common calls. Liz saw it during her police years too. Employers would show up with preliminary evidence. CCTV footage of Jane with her hand in the till. The tally showing $50 missing. Then police would take it from there.

As a private investigator, Liz handles the evidence gathering from the start. The whole investigation, really.

Workplace mediation forms another chunk of the work. Two people who can’t stand each other. Interview both, work out the real issues, facilitate a resolution.

The through line is bringing in someone external who has the skill set and the Ministry of Justice clearance. Not all private investigators come from policing backgrounds, though most do.

Other work includes divorce cases where assets are being hidden. More forensic accounting territory, but investigation plays a part. Custody disputes where a child isn’t where they’re supposed to be. Surveillance and digging required.

Emotionally charged work. Liz acknowledges that plainly.

Why 15 investigators and two offices nearly broke her

Liz joined the police as a constable. Became a detective. Got qualified as a sergeant. She loved investigating then. Still loves it now.

But the system pushes you upward. She followed that path. Then replicated it in business.

Started as an investigator doing what she loved. Then the pressure kicked in. Self-imposed, mostly. “This is what success looks like. This is what I’m meant to do. Build the team. Grow the company.”

She built it. Fifteen investigators. All their casework flowing through her desk.

She hated it.

“When I was just sitting back and managing 15 investigators and all of their work, it took me away from the work I loved. I lost the love for it.”

Running big offices, having difficult conversations, managing people. Not her strength. Not what she’s built for.

Being honest about that changed everything. There’s no shame in staying small. The stress disappears. The income stays solid. The job satisfaction goes through the roof.

She sees it constantly. Business owners who’ve scaled accidentally. Got bigger and bigger, more stressed, drowning in staffing problems. Once you’re in deep, getting out feels impossible.

When opening your email makes your chest tighten

Why not just hire someone to handle the management and admin side?

Liz could have. When growth hit fast, she didn’t have the infrastructure ready. That’s part of why she stepped back.

The other part was discovering at 52 that she likely had ADHD. It explained a lot. Business brought it all to a head.

She and her husband did a course with Simone -Ellen Keller called Genius You. Deep dive into her reactions and patterns. It started with working for someone who wasn’t managing well. Late night calls at 8pm about cases handed in that afternoon. Around the clock demands.

“How can I not get on with this person? How can I not set my boundaries?”

Looking at her personality, her reactions, everything made more sense. She doesn’t operate well in that kind of environment. She’s selective about who she works with because she doesn’t accept being treated poorly. Won’t treat others poorly either. Won’t let anyone she works with be treated that way.

The revelation was simple. “Without me looking after myself, my business doesn’t exist. I need to look after myself first.”

The turning point came with physical symptoms. “Having a horrible feeling in my chest every time I got up in the morning and opened an email.”

Not knowing what she’d find. Glowing feedback on one case. A harsh email on another. Unrealistic expectations everywhere.

She knew it wasn’t just the other person. Yes, they were a terrible manager. But she was also affected in ways that had happened with previous colleagues. She needed to work out: is it me or them?

The course gave her the answer. Both. They shouldn’t have been in their role. She shouldn’t have been in hers either. Bad fit all around.

Your triggers are your responsibility

Are you responsible for your own triggers?

“Yep, I think so.”

Liz spent her entire police career dealing with conflict. She’s used to it. But conflict from colleagues hits differently. Harder to navigate.

You need to know yourself. What irritates you? How can you handle it if you need to stay and resolve it? Can you actually get through it?

When you reach the point of ‘I can’t do this,’ you need to remove yourself.

Looking after yourself isn’t optional.

The desk sticker that changed her perspective

Most business owners link success to size. How did Liz break that pattern without feeling like a failure?

“I stopped comparing myself.”

Her desk has a sticker: ‘Comparison is the enemy of contentment and the thief of joy.’

You can knock out amazing work. End the day thinking about how happy your client was, how much you loved the job. Then look at another investigation company and think they’ve done something bigger, better, more impressive.

Being proud of your own work matters. Other businesses operate differently. Every business owner brings different strengths. No two are identical.

Liz believes great leaders are born, not made. She married one. Watched him lead in the police, now in the medical field. She’s also worked under awful leaders. She knows both ends of the spectrum.

Each leader carries a different skill set shaped by their experiences. Police management often leaned autocratic. Get things done now, no discussion. Many managers adopted that single style.

Comparing yourself to leaders who are fundamentally different in completely different companies achieves nothing.

Now she asks herself: what makes me happy in my work? How can I do a good job? Everyone else drops away.

Growth isn’t the only path forward

Comparison is one piece. But there’s a deeper mindset problem, maybe cultural. Like relationship milestones. Date, engage, marry, kids, house, dog, picket fence.

Business follows the same script. You must always be growing.

Even when you stop comparing, you’re fighting yourself internally. Was stopping comparison enough for Liz?

“Happiness. Happiness is my driving force.”

She likes being happy. Likes surrounding herself with happy people. You can create it deliberately.

She’s always been positive. When negativity creeps in, she knows she’s around the wrong people or doing something that doesn’t suit her.

Private investigation isn’t glamorous. Clients get accused of terrible things. Sometimes good people do terrible things. The material she reads can be grim.

She compartmentalises it. Everything she dealt with in the police, some of it disturbing, stays separate. That’s the job. It doesn’t touch her happiness. What matters is doing good work and leaving clients satisfied.

Hard days still exist though.

Child abuse work dominated many years of her police career. People’s typical reaction: ‘I couldn’t do that. I’d want to kill them all.’

Her focus was the child making the complaint. Treating accused people like dirt guarantees they won’t talk. Won’t cooperate. Won’t produce a useful interview.

The best thing she could do was for that child.

Having her son changed things. Returning to child abuse work, her first case involved a child her son’s age. Suddenly every complainant wore her child’s face. Beyond that specific period, she kept her work separate.

Her mental health stays solid. She takes care of it deliberately.

Why profitability and happiness both matter

How does Liz know she’s where she should be now? Just happiness?

“Happiness and profitability.”

Work that doesn’t generate money is pointless. She wouldn’t be happy either.

Money does buy happiness. You can cry alone or cry in a Porsche.

She’d pick the Porsche. Income matters. A successful business matters. If the money wasn’t good, she wouldn’t run this business.

The unexpected value clients get from a PI

What’s the most valuable thing Liz provides that businesses don’t anticipate?

“A positive experience.”

Sounds basic. You’d expect that from any business. But her clients arrive tortured. Something’s wrong, something bad is happening, they need help.

Her approach is straightforward. “You tell me your story, now your problem is my problem. Just leave it with me. I’m going to do all these inquiries and then I’ll get that product back.”

Most people don’t know what to expect. When they leave, they feel relief. A recent client told her, “I feel like I’ve finally been listened to.”

Listening and providing a positive experience helps people feel less crazy.

She doesn’t have all the answers. Some clients get found guilty. But giving the job everything and giving each person her best effort is the commitment.

When lawyers or barristers report back that their client was delighted, that matters. The lawyers are clients too. Keeping them positive helps them stay engaged with the work.

Showing up as more than just an investigator

Do business owners’ multiple hats apply to private investigation?

Yes. Business owner covers the usual ground. But Liz also enters negative situations and works to fix them.

Medical professionals do the same thing. They deal with people struggling, and they become cheerleaders.

Liz genuinely cares about people. Her empathy is real. She thinks people recognise that. When she’s hearing someone’s story, however grim, they feel heard and listened to.

“All I’m doing is my job. And what a delight to know that at the end of me doing my job the best I can, someone actually gets something good out of it.”

What success actually looks like now

How does Liz measure success now versus when she started?

“Happiness. I’m always happy. I’m happy in my home life and it goes across all areas of your life.”

She’s as busy as she wants to be. Has as much downtime as she wants. She picks her clients. If someone’s been difficult before, if they’re not positive to deal with, she might decline the work.

Being selective about clients is necessary. If she’s the main resource in her company, she needs to protect that resource.

The daily practices that keep mental health intact

Maintaining happiness means maintaining mental health. What does Liz do to stay on top of it, given her policing background and everything she’s dealt with?

Every part of her life gets attention. Her health gets attention. She eats well, sleeps properly, goes to the gym, exercises regularly. She makes sure she enjoys her work. She nurtures her marriage. It’s ongoing work. You don’t just get married and coast. Same with her son, family, and friends.

She looks after herself because nobody else will. She’s the only one who knows what’s wrong.

Having her husband helps. They check in on each other. Last night she was mulling over something work-related. He got home and immediately asked, “What’s on your mind?” He knew. They talked it through. He provided reassurance.

Having someone to talk to makes a difference.

During her child abuse work, six-monthly psychologist visits were mandatory. She went for years. The only time she cried or felt like the session mattered was when her dad developed Alzheimer’s.

But it’s about tracking your thoughts and feelings. Staying aware of how you’re doing. Checking in regularly.

The lesson from all of this? Success doesn’t have to look the way everyone else says it should. Building a smaller business that lets you do work you love, with people you respect, while protecting your mental health and staying profitable isn’t settling. It’s succeeding on your own terms.

---

This article and podcast is proudly brought to you by Gilligan Sheppard, the problem solvers in business who believe in thinking differently.