We recently connected with ARVINDER KAUR SODHI and have shared our conversation below.
ARVINDER KAUR, thanks for taking the time to share your stories with us today Let’s go back in time to when you were an intern or apprentice – what’s an interesting story you can share from that stage of your career?
My First Internship:
My very first internship outside of my family’s business was with someone I will never forget: Nicholas Pogue. He was a seasoned photographer, known in Montreal and surrounding areas for his keen eye, quick wit, and deep respect for people and their stories. But more than that, he was the kind of mentor you only get once in a lifetime.
Nicholas didn’t just teach me how to photograph a wedding or capture the perfect moment when someone is blowing out birthday candles; he taught me how to see.
Whether we were setting up for a high-end wedding, a chaotic prom, a solemn family portrait, or a passport photo in the basement of a community center, he had the same insights: “Respect the story. Respect the people. Engage with your subjects and the photo will come alive.”
He taught me how to handle delicate equipment with care and how to move quickly when a moment was about to unfold. He reminded me to eat! Whether it was a 5-star restaurant steak dinner at the reception or a $1.99 granola bar and an apple on the go – because self-care was part of the job.
And he trained me not just to stand at the edge of a room with a camera, but to find my way to the front, with grace and purpose. “Sometimes,” he’d whisper, “you’ve got to bring out the inner paparazzi, kid.”
One of the most valuable things Nicholas ever taught me was how to respectfully work within the Hasidic Jewish community. As a woman, I had the unique ability to document the sacred, celebratory moments on the women’s side of the wedding, a perspective many photographers missed. He made sure I honoured their traditions while still capturing memories that mattered.
He also taught me how to be invisible when needed; especially when bridezilla made her entrance. I learned to manage long, 14-hour days, navigate tense emotions, and still find the beauty in between the chaos.
But perhaps my favorite part? Our conversations. Never small talk. Nicholas loved a good debate. He’d throw out political questions, challenge my opinions, and push me to think critically about the world around me. Even in his last days, as cancer slowly took him, he managed to start a debate, and promised we’d finish it at our next visit.
That visit never came. But the impact he left on me? It’s still developing: like one of his photos in the darkroom, slowly coming to life.
I carry his lessons with me in everything I do: be present, be thoughtful, be hungry (in every sense), and always, always be ready to catch the moment (whether it be with your camera or in your mind’s eye) that tells the real story.
As always, we appreciate you sharing your insights and we’ve got a few more questions for you, but before we get to all of that can you take a minute to introduce yourself and give our readers some of your back background and context?
Thank You! Well, I’m Arvinder Kaur, a lifelong learner, advocate. And more recently, the creative soul behind withGratus: a nonprofit initiative, reducing stigmas around mental health and self-awareness, guided women’s wellness movement rooted in education, storytelling, community care, resource-sharing, and holistic healing. The heart of this work beats with purpose: especially for those navigating invisible pain, cultural intersections, and the pursuit of wellness that honors body, mind, and soul.
My path to this work wasn’t straightforward. It was not something I studied in a textbook or stumbled upon by chance. It is something I have lived.
I experienced a near-death incident that left me physically paralyzed and profoundly shaken. What followed was decades-long journey through, physical therspies, chronic illness, medical trauma, medicine journey, spiritual searching, and cultural adaptation. Through each chapter of adversity, a deeper purpose emerged: to create a space where healing stories could be told, where people could find both support and themselves, and where service could be offered as a sacred act and where each woman could see her best version.
The name withGratus embodies this intention. It is not just a brand—it is a way of being. At its core, withGratus stands for five guiding values: Gratitude, Empathy, Consistency, Courage, and Commitment. These values inform every offering and interaction, shaping how we hold space, how we support growth, and how we honor each person’s unique journey
In short – The mission of withGratus is to empower individuals to prioritize their mental, physical, and spiritual well-being through skill-building and peer support. Our vision is to make wellness accessible and self-directed, using education, compassion, and courage as the foundation for transformation.
What sets my work apart is its depth and honesty. I don’t teach from theory: I connect over lived experience. Every tool I offer has been forged in fire, tested in hospitals, whispered through prayer, or scribbled during a sleepless night. I know what it means to lead when you’re exhausted, to smile when your heart aches, and to rise again when life has broken your plans.
Although I identify as a Sikh woman within the South Asian community, this work is intended for all individuals who seek healing, connection, and personal growth – regardless of background or identity. Everyone deserves a space where their story matters and their well-being is prioritized.
Among all the milestones, I am most humbled in the quiet moments when someone says, “I didn’t know anyone else understood.” When a caregiver, or a woman feels seen, not just in their duties, but in their humanity.
To anyone considering working with me, collaborating, or simply following this journey, I want to say: I will meet you where you are—with empathy, curiosity, and care. This isn’t about polished branding or performative wellness. This is about being real, whole, and healing.
withGratus is an offering, a conversation, and a call to come home to yourself—with gratitude, grace, grit, and growth.
Let’s co-create something meaningful together!
Can you tell us about a time you’ve had to pivot?
For as long as I can remember, real estate was part of my DNA. It wasn’t just a career path – it was a family tradition, a shared language, and a generational blueprint for financial independence and stability. I was raised to acquire, renovate, rent out, and manage real estate as a primary source of income. My training, upbringing, and even my marriage revolved around this industry. My husband and I were deeply aligned in this pursuit, and together we carved out a path focused on flipping, managing, and turning around properties for a solid return on investment.
One of the first properties I ever sold belonged to my father – a rite of passage familiar to many in the business. I was fortunate to have incredible mentorship along the way. My mother was a realtor during my early childhood. As an adult myself, Mohammad Al Hajj, a respected leader at Century 21 in Montreal, believes in me deeply. He helped me set meaningful goals and pushed me to grow into the role I thought I was destined for. I carried those values into my marriage and spent years acquiring and developing properties with precision, building a keen eye for what could be transformed and how quickly we could turn it around.
But one day, everything changed.
An unexpected opportunity arose: the preschool my children attended was suddenly available for purchase. At first glance, it didn’t seem like a fit. I dismissed it. I wasn’t an educator. I was a real estate investor. But when the original buyer backed out, I was invited to consider making an offer. Something stirred in me. We went forward with the offer, only to have the property foreclosed on, sending it to the auction block.
I showed up at the courthouse and – the universe aligned- we won the bid.
Up until that moment, every acquisition we made came with a clear formula: remodel, add value, make a profit, move to the next one. But this time was different. We weren’t just acquiring a building. I was stepping into a living, breathing environment filled with children, teachers, families, and dreams. This wasn’t just a flip … this was the pivot.
Almost overnight, I transitioned from real estate entrepreneur to the owner of a private preparatory preschool for potty-trained children ages 2 and up. And in that shift, I discovered a completely different kind of investment: one that was more personal, more emotionally involved, and far more impactful than I had ever experienced.
Even in our rental properties, we’d always worked to improve living conditions for tenants: but this was something else entirely. This was about shaping futures, holding space for young minds, and supporting educators who were pouring their hearts into their work. I found myself wanting to learn everything I could about early childhood education. And so, I did.
I enrolled in courses, attended conferences, listened to podcasts on every drive, walk, opportunity, and hired coaches in the field. But most importantly, we really did listened to our staff, to the parents, and to my own intuition. We rooted every decision in what was in the best interest of the children. What started as a business investment became a calling. I didn’t just want to operate the preschool… I wanted to build a place where children were safe, nurtured, and inspired to grow.
That pivot taught me one of the greatest lessons of my life: sometimes, the most unexpected turns lead us to the most meaningful destinations. And just like in real estate, where you look at a property not only for what it is but for what it could become, I had somewhere along the way learned to look at my own life and ask the same question.
We’d appreciate any insights you can share with us about selling a business.
With the purchase of the preschool, I made a major pivot in my life—I let go of my real estate license, something I had held since my early twenties in Canada. For years, real estate had been my world, and even as I transitioned into the early education space, I continued to approach it with the same entrepreneurial mindset. Over the next seven years, my husband and I poured ourselves into Early Childhood Education, later, into building a brand-new 11,000-square-foot facility, transforming what was once a residential lot into a place of learning, growth, and community.
We did more than just build a school – we created a safe haven for children, even amid the chaos of the COVID-19 pandemic, with amazing upgrades for prevention. From navigating health protocols for students, teachers, parents, and even extended family members in at-risk categories to designing individualized, small-sized classrooms focused on executive functioning and social-emotional learning, every choice was intentional. The vision was clear. And I believed we were just getting started. My plan was to franchise. Expansion was always on the horizon.
We held community events, participated as a school in city initiatives, fundraised, and collected donations for various organizations. We also invited unique speakers from the community to engage with the students – each effort an extension of our belief that schools should be deeply rooted in the communities they serve.
But life had other plans. My health began to decline more urgently. And my husband, my partner in every sense, could no longer fill in for me as he once had. As demand for the school grew, he began to field offers from interested buyers. But I wasn’t ready to sell. I hadn’t planned to exit. I hadn’t envisioned handing over something so personal.
Then, one evening, everything shifted.
The prospective buyers invited me to dinner. I went, cautiously curious. As they shared their vision, I began to listen with a new lens. They weren’t just a private equity group: they were educators and builders too. They had already developed incredible programs for students, meaningful support systems for staff, and a school culture that closely mirrored what we had cultivated. Most importantly, they were aligned with me on the values that mattered most: putting children first, clear communication with families, and honoring the emotional and developmental needs of students and teachers alike.
I prayed on it.
And in that quiet space, I had to confront a hard truth: the only thing standing in the way of this vision expanding even further … was me. My fear. My ego. My attachment. I had done my part in building something beautiful. It was time to let it grow without me – as our school joined a family of over a dozen more.
Once I made peace with that, the transition to new ownership became one of the smoothest chapters of my professional life. It no longer felt like a loss. It felt like a continuation: just not one I needed to lead. I already had an exit strategy, handbooks, and best practices in place for eventual expansion. I just didn’t know that someone else would be the one to carry that dream forward. What I had envisioned, someone else was already executing—with care, excellence, and intention.
Selling the preschool gave us the time and space to focus on my health and rediscover my next purpose. It reminded me that our businesses are chapters, not the entire book.
That legacy isn’t about ownership – it’s about impact.
For any entrepreneur hoping to sell one day, my biggest lesson is this: alignment matters so much more than money. You can build the most profitable venture, but if the people taking it over don’t share your values, the heart of it can get lost. And if they do align, truly align, letting go isn’t loss. It’s great leadership!
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