I Left My Successful Solo Practice After Two Decades to Join a Larger Firm. Here’s Why.

Most people make a change professionally when something is broken. But what about when nothing is broken, and in fact, things are going exceptionally well?

That’s where I found myself recently. For over twenty years, I was a solo workers’ compensation attorney. I was enjoying the fruits of having invested a healthy amount of blood, sweat, and tears into my practice. My firm was thriving, my client relationships were strong, and I was genuinely proud of my career.

But then I decided to join the largest workers’ compensation law firm in Pennsylvania and one of the largest in the U.S. As soon as I announced my decision to my colleagues and peers, the questions started pouring in. I was asked, more than once, “Why would you ever want to practice at that firm?!”

I was fortunate not to need to take my practice anywhere; not every solo attorney is in that position. But there were compelling reasons for me to make such a momentous move. If you’re a solo contemplating a similar move, these reasons may be equally compelling.

I had reached my maximum capacity on account of juggling legal work with administrative work

As my practice continued to grow, I reached a point where I was operating at my maximum capacity. I knew I’d taken the business as far as it could realistically go.

Being a sole practitioner means you’re not just practicing law; you’re also managing finances, overseeing countless administrative tasks, answering the phone, covering hearings, drafting pleadings, and serving as head marketer and intake manager. Somewhere between updating my website and chasing down invoices, I realized that all that time could be far better spent on the work that truly matters to me. I wanted to focus on client relationships, advocacy, and strategy. I wanted to channel my energy into helping injured workers get their lives back on track. But that was becoming harder and harder to do with all the responsibilities of running a solo law practice.

The opportunity to join a larger law firm meant I could hand off most of my administrative tasks to my talented new coworkers, who complete them more efficiently and effectively than I ever could because that is their full-time job. As expected, handing off administrative tasks has allowed me to spend more time doing the work I love doing and am best at: helping my clients navigate their workers’ compensation claims.

Freedom as a solo practitioner is illusory; I wanted true freedom

One of my principal concerns about joining a larger law firm was whether doing so would restrict or eliminate my autonomy. I treasured the ability as a solo practitioner to make my own decisions without having to answer to anyone else. I worried whether I would sacrifice the complete autonomy I’d enjoyed as a solo practitioner by joining a new firm.

My perspective changed when an old friend asked a deceptively simple question: “What freedom do you really have when you’re on a family vacation and you have to stop what you’re doing to deal with a client?” That made me rethink what autonomy really means.

There was an obvious paradox. Early in my career, being my own boss was exhilarating. I could set my hours, choose my cases, and shape my practice exactly as I saw fit.

But as time passed and my practice grew, that freedom eroded. I was still making every decision, but I was also alone, carrying the weight of every responsibility. It was wearing me down.

I eventually realized that taking your solo practice to a larger firm doesn’t have to diminish your independence; it expands it by allowing you to focus on the parts of the practice you enjoy, while trusting that everything else will be handled. In my case, that meant holding on to the client relationships I valued and spending my time applying the higher-level skills that make the practice of law so interesting to me, like strategic thinking.

My clients would benefit from better infrastructure, technology, and resources

I had always made technology and infrastructure a priority in my practice. I had modern case management software, along with efficient systems, processes, and workflows for serving clients. But there were certain constraints I couldn’t quite break through on my own, and I couldn’t justify the expense of doing so given my firm’s size.

When I first walked into my new firm, it was as though I had just stepped out of a time machine into another decade. While shadowing one of the firm’s lawyers, I watched as she finished a client meeting, completed a single dropdown form, and hit “send.” Right away, teams across the firm sprang into action. Tasks that would have required dozens of emails and follow-ups in my solo practice were seamlessly moving through a coordinated system.

A sophisticated law firm infrastructure is far easier to build and sustain in a larger, better-resourced firm. My new firm has the scale to invest in the best technology and employ dedicated teams of professionals solely focused on supporting the practice. With specialists across finance, marketing, strategy, technology, and operations, each working in their lane, the organization runs more effectively and efficiently than even the most successful solo practice could. That structure creates the foundation that allows its lawyers to spend more time serving clients.

The strategy behind the firm’s infrastructure and technology reassured me as much as, if not more than, the infrastructure and technology itself. Today, every lawyer has to reckon with forces reshaping the profession, such as artificial intelligence, private equity, and new ownership models. As a solo practitioner, I could rarely look past the end of the week, let alone strategize about where workers’ compensation in Pennsylvania is heading. At my new firm, the management team is looking 20 years ahead. That gave me confidence that this is a place built to thrive, no matter the direction the practice of law heads.

I could protect and build upon the professional reputation I’d built

I remained a solo practitioner for more than two decades because I believed my reputation was my greatest professional asset. It fostered enduring relationships with clients, referral sources, judges, and colleagues, led to leadership opportunities, and generated a constant stream of referrals. My greatest hesitation about joining a larger firm was the fear that its brand would eclipse my own, preventing me from continuing to nurture the relationships and professional identity I had spent a lifetime building.

Years earlier, another large firm attempted to recruit me by telling me that an individual lawyer’s name didn’t matter, only the firm’s brand did. I ran for the door because that philosophy completely discounted everything I had spent decades building.

My new firm doesn’t share that philosophy and wasn’t looking to absorb me into its brand. It was committed to supporting and amplifying the reputation I’d spent decades building while providing the resources to better serve my clients. Over dinner, the firm’s leadership team told me they had been watching my practice from afar, that they admired what I’d built, and that they wanted me precisely as I was—down to keeping my Jenkintown office, where I had followed in my father’s footsteps. My name and my brand were valuable, they said, and they would stay mine.

Beyond that, they shared the values I hold regarding the practice of workers’ compensation law. When injured workers hire a workers’ compensation law firm, they’re typically at the lowest point in their lives, dealing simultaneously with both devastating physical disabilities and financial uncertainties. Their cases are rarely just about them; they’re about their whole family and the broader challenges they’re facing. We, as claimants’-side workers’ compensation lawyers, must provide holistic counsel and guidance to our clients about how to get back on their feet both literally and figuratively. My new firm not only shares that philosophy, but its founding partners have shouted that belief from the rooftops for decades.

I joined a firm with women in genuine leadership roles

When I hung my shingle in the 1990s, the legal field was overwhelmingly male-dominated, especially in workers’ compensation law and in the upper ranks of the profession. Female partners within the claimants’ bar were few and far between. That absence pushed me toward building my practice and ultimately shaped the trajectory of my career because I didn’t see a clear path forward for women like me. There weren’t many visible examples of female leadership. I quickly realized that I didn’t want to spend my career trying to fit into someone else’s mold or conform to their terms. That instinct to chart my course became the foundation of my firm.

My new firm has rebuked the “old boys’ club” aspect of the practice of law. At the firm, women occupy leadership positions. They are not token leaders either. They are natural-born leaders who command rooms, have significant responsibilities, and are bulldogs in the courtroom.

Female leadership at law firms is important to me. It is incredibly meaningful when women lawyers look at my career, see what’s possible, and think, “I can do that too.” As I move into this new chapter at my new firm, I am confident that I will create opportunities for the next generation of female workers’ compensation lawyers. Having done every job in a workers’ compensation practice—from intake to settlement—I understand what team members need to do and how they can thrive in their roles. That perspective will allow me to lead and mentor the firm’s junior attorneys and to show them that the relationships and reputation they build will be a key driver of their success in the practice of law.

To all the solos out there: You need not go it alone your entire career

When I began my career, my goal was simple: to make a meaningful difference in my clients’ lives. But as my firm grew, the demands of running a business became all-consuming. After over two decades, an opportunity presented itself to join a larger firm and step out of the weeds of administration and focus on the strategy and day-to-day legal work that had drawn me to workers’ compensation law. I couldn’t, at this stage in my career, say “no” to such an opportunity.

In your career, such an opportunity may present itself to you. You’ll likely have reservations, as I did, about the impact a move to a new firm will have on your reputation, your relationships, and your ability to do the work that you love. Those reservations might bring with them sleepless nights, soul-searching, and fear of the unknown.

If that is the case, please reach out to me. Throughout my career, I’ve been fortunate to benefit from the willingness of members of the Pennsylvania solo practitioner bar to share their experiences about all aspects of the practice of law. I would be happy to return the favor by speaking with solos and other attorneys about the pros and cons of them joining a larger firm. Deciding to do so could change their professional lives by opening doors they didn’t know existed.