There’s a peculiar pattern we’ve seen over and over again.

When it comes to selling a dental practice or even exploring options for what comes next, it’s not the unmotivated, underprepared, or average dentist who delays the decision.

It’s the smartest ones.

The ones with the big practices, the pristine reputations, the strong collections, and the fat retirement accounts.

These dentists have spent decades building something valuable. They’ve been deliberate and thoughtful with their money, their time, and their care for patients. They’re respected. They’re successful. They’re proud of what they’ve built.

But that pride? That thoughtfulness? That deep sense of responsibility?

It’s often the very thing that keeps them stuck.

It usually starts with something small. A canceled meeting. A little more silence between patients. An odd look across the breakroom table.

Most of the time, the team doesn’t say anything. But they notice. The dentist—once upbeat and energized—isn’t quite the same. They’re not unhappy. Just... flat.

And if you’re the hygienist, the assistant, the office manager—or even the spouse—you see it before anyone else does. Because you’re close enough to feel the shift… and you care enough to worry about it.

 
Let’s say you hear a scratching noise upstairs.You don’t want to deal with it. It’s probably nothing. Maybe it’ll go away.

A few weeks pass. Now there’s a smell. Strange noises at night. You tell yourself it’s just an old house. But what was once a minor nuisance is now an infestation. A full-blown raccoon colony has taken over your attic, and the damage is no longer just noise—it’s in the walls, the wiring, the insulation, the value of your home.

Now let’s talk about your dental practice. Because I’m telling you, a lot of you have raccoons in the attic—and you’re pretending the scratching will stop.

 
You ever been on a date that started off perfect?

They were charming. Confident. Said all the right things. You were clicking. Laughing. Maybe even picturing a second date. And then somewhere between dessert and the ride home…

The vibe changed. The mask slipped. And you suddenly realized: This was never about you.

That’s exactly how it feels when a DSO deal goes sideways.

Let’s talk frogs.

If you put a frog into a pot of boiling water, it will jump out. But if you put it in cool water and slowly turn up the heat, it will sit there until it dies.

Now let’s talk about dentists.

We’re seeing an alarming number of doctors who know something’s changing. They feel the temperature rising in the profession. Staff is harder to keep. Patients are harder to please. Margins are shrinking. DSOs are circling. And what are most doctors doing?

They’re sitting still, hoping the heat will go down.

This blog is for the smart, skilled, well-meaning practice owner who is unknowingly in hot water—and whose exit strategy is at serious risk of being boiled away.

Let me guess:

You’re the one everyone turns to when there’s a tough case. You’re the highest producer in your office. You diagnose faster, treat better, and have a clinical mind that’s saved more than a few patients from disaster.

You’re a great dentist.

But the truth is, being a great dentist doesn’t mean you’ll win when it’s time to sell. In fact, some of the most clinically gifted doctors I’ve met have walked away with far less than their practice was worth.

Because they made one big mistake: They thought they were the smartest person in the room.

There’s something deeply satisfying about the idea of blowing it all up. We all fantasize, now and then, about erasing the chaos and starting fresh.

No more staff drama. No more insurance nonsense. No more weekends worrying about Monday. No more patients who want champagne results on a dollar menu budget.

Just clean, charred closure.

But in the dental world, that fantasy usually pops up right before burnout hits hard. It’s a warning sign.

It wasn’t an email. It was a letter. Handwritten. Mailed in. Tucked in with a practice valuation request form. And it started with three haunting words:

"I waited too long."

The letter went on to describe a story that I’ve heard, in pieces, dozens of times—but rarely with this level of honesty. It came from a dentist I’ll call "Dr. L," who had every intention of exiting on his own terms. He had a successful suburban practice. Loyal patients. Great team. No major health issues.

And yet, when he finally decided to explore selling…

The offers were anemic. The buyers weren’t interested. The value just wasn’t there.

Most dentists assume the real danger is the big, obvious stuff:

• A lawsuit
• A malpractice complaint
• A competitor opening down the street

But here’s the truth:

The real time bombs are quiet. They don’t explode overnight. They leak value, inch by inch, until your retirement dreams shrink by six figures or more—and you don’t even notice until it’s too late. Let’s defuse a few of them right now.

He looked like the kind of guy who calls everyone “buddy.”

Cool blazer. No tie. Designer watch. Whiskey in hand. And a smile that said, "I'm not here to sell you anything." Except he was.

He was the DSO's closer. The friendliest face of the sharpest contract you'd ever sign. And I watched a very smart dentist—a respected, successful, clinically gifted doctor—get taken for nearly $1.3 million less than he should have received.

All because the guy with the whiskey made him feel like it was just a chat.