Turning a Personal Journey Into a Dental Community

Before I can talk about building a community, you need to know a little about me, because my history is what made it possible. I’m Dr. Ashley Joves, a first-generation Filipino-American and an only child, born just outside Columbus, Ohio. Growing up, I often felt out of place, there weren’t many people who looked like me, and being an only child, I created my own worlds, telling stories and imagining siblings just to keep myself company.

But my story isn’t just about growing up different—it’s about the lessons I learned from my mom, Dr. Helen Roy. She was a dentist in the Philippines who left everything behind to chase a dream in the United States. She never practiced dentistry in the States; instead, she worked two full-time jobs as a single mom, raising me while caring for her aging parents. Watching her resilience shaped everything I would do later, and understanding her sacrifices helps explain why I approached my own path with equal parts ambition, determination, and, honestly, stubbornness.

Dentistry was in my DNA because of my mom. I knew from a young age that I would pick up where she left off—go to dental school, become a business owner and make her proud. I imagined the path so clearly: graduate, open my own practice, fall in love, have kids. But life had other plans. Love rearranged my timeline. I met my soulmate at the UC Davis—me, 20, him, 19. We married in 2009 after I graduated dental school, and my path to practice ownership became a scenic route full of detours, lessons and unexpected twists.

In 2015, we moved our family from Sacramento to LA for my husband’s fellowship at UCLA. I had a three-month-old and a 20-month-old, and we only planned to be there for a year. I took an extended maternity leave, trying to be the best stay-at-home mom I could be—but let me tell you, those angelic faces were actually tiny terrorists. Sleep was nonexistent, tantrums multiplied and I felt utterly alone. Leaving my support system hit me hard, and as an extrovert, the isolation weighed on me.

It was during that lonely year that I discovered podcasts to keep me company, and I started dreaming about my dental practice again. I wrote the business plan for Smiling & Co. and envisioned what my practice could become.

We moved back to Northern California so our boys could grow up near their grandparents, and shortly after, my broker emailed me a listing: a 30-year-old dental practice that hadn’t been updated in decades. The moment I saw it, I could picture Smiling & Co.

I bought the building, planning to keep it a secret. I wasn’t experienced in startups, and in my culture, failure isn’t talked about—you only show people your success. So, I tucked my dream away while continuing to work as an associate dentist.

But life had other plans. My associate position started to shift as patients gravitated toward me and team members confided in me. I had asked the owner, a woman dentist, to mentor me in business, and she refused outright. She told me I had to figure it out on my own and warned that if anyone found out I was opening my practice, people would follow me. From there, things went downhill fast.

One incident stands out. A 13-year-old patient came in with an over-retained baby tooth causing pain. I jokingly told the hygienist that the wiggly tooth may come out during the cleaning, thinking nothing of it. Weeks later, I was blindsided: the owner fired me for instructing a team member outside her scope. It was humiliating. I walked out of that office, watched the doors close behind me, and finally let myself feel the weight of it all. I was eight years out of dental school, struggling with postpartum depression, and nowhere near where I had imagined I’d be in my career.

Driving home, I called my husband and left a voicemail: “Babe, I was fired today.” Tears fell, and for 35 minutes on the freeway, I let myself wallow. Then he called back, telling me to go to the building and announce that I was opening my practice. It was my time to bet on myself.

I parked outside, stared at the building, and for the first time, shared my secret live on Facebook. My voice shook, tears fell, but as comments, hearts and messages of support poured in—11,000 views, 350 comments—I realized I wasn’t alone. That moment sparked what would become a thriving support system and community.

I started documenting my journey through a dental startup podcast, sharing the highs, lows and messy in-betweens. I created a Facebook group for dentists starting their own practices, and soon, it became a place for open dialogue, advice and support. Members shared experiences about construction delays, business decisions, and even parenting challenges while running a practice. What started as my personal story became a community of thousands, connecting people across the country.

In 2017, Smiling & Co. officially opened its doors. Since then, I’ve expanded to multiple offices, welcomed another child and continued to grow the podcast and online community. I’ve watched online connections turn into real-life friendships, retreats and celebrations across the country.

I never set out to build a community. I simply shared my story. And through that sharing, I found that connection, encouragement and support multiply. I’ve turned my mess into my message, and in doing so, created a space where others can do the same.

Now, as a multi-practice owner, mom of three, podcaster and community builder, I continue to be on a mission to foster connection through shared stories and experiences. I am deeply grateful to my mom for introducing me to this industry, and I am honored to share it now—not just with my children, but with a caring online community.

Thank you for all of your support throughout this journey.