You Can't Claim a Legacy You Walked Away From [23]

You Can't Claim a Legacy You Walked Away From [23]

Legacy isn't what you start. It's what you stay for

Sprinkles Cupcakes closed on December 31st, and founder Candace Nelson wants you to feel bad for her. In a video posted to Instagram, she said, "This isn't how I thought the story would go. I thought Sprinkles would keep going and be around forever. I thought it was going to be my legacy."

Let's look at the actual story.

Nelson founded Sprinkles in 2005. She sold it to private equity firm KarpReilly in 2012. That's seven years. KarpReilly ran it for thirteen years before closing it down. They had been invested in Sprinkles almost twice as long as she had. Note: It’s not a surprise that the business was sold after seven years. Nelson started her professional career in investment banking.

So, what exactly is her point?

This isn't the typical private equity strip-and-flip story. Lord knows I seen a few of them!  This isn't Red Lobster or TGI Fridays getting gutted for parts within a few years. KarpReilly stayed in the game for over a decade. They ran the business longer than the founder did! And when they finally closed it after thirteen years of trying to make it work, the person who bailed after seven years posted a video asking for sympathy about her lost legacy.

That's not how legacy works.

Legacy isn't what you start. It's what you finish. It's the commitment you make when things get hard, when the market shifts, when the business model that worked in 2005 doesn't work in 2025. Legacy is staying in the fight long enough to matter. Nelson didn't do that. She took her exit after seven years and moved on.

And that's fine. Founders sell businesses all the time. It's a legitimate choice. But you don't get to sell your company, cash out, walk away, and then thirteen years later claim it was supposed to be your legacy.

That's not legacy. That's performance.

The social media response to Nelson's video has been brutal because people see through it. The comments aren't just anti-private equity rants. They're calling out a founder who's trying to have it both ways. She wanted the exit. She got it. Now she wants credit for caring more than the people who actually stuck around.

Here's what really exposes the gap: employees found out they were losing their jobs with one day's notice and no severance. That's the part that matters. Not Nelson's feelings about her "legacy." The people who showed up every day to make Sprinkles work got blindsided while the founder who left over a decade ago is posting videos about how heartbroken she is.

This is where the Purpose-Vision-Principles framework cuts through the noise. If Sprinkles was your purpose, you don't sell after seven years. If your vision was for it to "be around forever," you structure the deal to make that possible or you don't sell at all. If your principles include taking care of the people who build the business, you make sure the sale agreement protects them or you walk away from the offer.

Nelson did none of that.

She sold to private equity, took the payout, and left. What happened after that isn't her responsibility. But it's also not her legacy.

The 51% Rule says that once you make a decision, you own the outcome. But it also says you don't get to own outcomes from decisions other people made after you left. KarpReilly ran Sprinkles for thirteen years. Whatever happened in those thirteen years is on them. Good, bad, or neutral. They stayed. They invested. They tried to make it work. And when it didn't, they shut it down.

That's business. Companies close. Markets shift. Consumer tastes change. Cupcakes in 2005 were a trend. By 2025, the trend had moved on. KarpReilly held on longer than most PE firms would have. They certainly held on longer than the founder did.

The real issue here isn't private equity destroying a beloved brand. The real issue is a founder who wants credit for caring without doing the work of actually caring. Caring means staying. It means being there when the business struggles. It means protecting your employees when things go sideways. It means making decisions that prioritize long-term impact over short-term payout.

Nelson made the opposite choice at every turn. She sold early. She sold to financial buyers. She walked away. And now she's asking people to share their "special Sprinkles memories" as if she's the victim in this story.

She's not.

The victims are the employees who built their lives around jobs that disappeared with one day's notice. They're the ones who deserved better. They're the ones who actually showed up for the long haul. And the founder who left them behind thirteen years ago doesn't get to claim their sacrifice as part of her legacy.

If you're a CEO or founder reading this, here's the question: What do you actually want? Do you want to build something that lasts, or do you want to cash out and move on? Both are legitimate choices. But you have to pick one. You don't get to cash out and then claim you were building for legacy. You don't get to sell control and then mourn the loss of it thirteen years later. You don't get to abandon your purpose and then ask for sympathy when someone else's purpose doesn't match yours.

This is the work. Defining what matters. Committing to it. Staying in it long enough for the commitment to mean something. And when you do decide to exit, owning that choice without trying to rewrite the story later.

KarpReilly isn't the villain here. They stayed twice as long as the founder. They tried to make it work. And when it didn't, they made the call to close.

Sprinkles is closed. The employees who gave years of their lives to building it are scrambling. And the founder who left over a decade ago is posting videos about her heartbreak. That's not a tragedy. That's a choice she made in 2012. The only tragedy is that she thinks anyone should feel sorry for her about it.

Legacy isn't what you say mattered to you. It's what you stayed for. And Nelson didn't stay. She left. The people asking for sympathy thirteen years later are the ones who need to look in the mirror and ask: What did I actually commit to? Because it sure wasn't Sprinkles.

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(c) 2025, Ron Boire, and The Upland Group LLC. Lead with Purpose™ and The 51% Rule™ are trademarks of Ron Boire

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