I remember pulling the sweater on after the last of the customers had been asked to leave. I wasn’t cold, but it felt protective. 

We had been promised we could stay until midnight and had invited every last customer and friend to come and say goodbye. At the tail end of the morning rush, however, our tearful hugs and rounds of mochas were cut short. 

Close immediately.

Our absentee landlord had rolled up with chains to secure the door and kick us out early. Ironically, since he’d never been to the shop before, he didn’t realize the single door could not be secured with chains. 

I think he thought he had to prepare for a fight.

But you can see from my face in the photograph that there was no fight. I think he knew it too when we shook hands for the first and last time. 

There was no fight in me from the moment a lawyer carefully outlined our position against his 10 days before. David and Goliath–except it was David’s fault that Goliath had the upper hand, and everyone would know.

He took his chains and left. The assets belonged to the bank anyway and my banker was a regular who happened to be there to remind him he had to wait to claim his prizes.

Grateful for her defense, we tucked our tails and cleaned up.

A customer and artist who’d showcased his incredible line drawings on my walls as a featured “artist-of-the-month” asked to snap the photo. I didn’t want to but felt obliged. 

I’m now grateful for one of the few remaining images I have of my wild adventure.

For a little more than two years I owned my own little slice of heaven. A place to call home that always had a friendly face and unfettered access to an espresso machine. I recently told my therapist that I wasn’t ready for the Perk to be my comeback story. There are so many knots I have yet to untie.

You don’t walk away from a business swearing never to own one again and have those oaths not come around to bite you when you start a new one.

But the more knots I untie the more I am learning to appreciate the bravery of that girl, feeling like a failure in front of everyone in her community, smiling back at the camera on her last day.

She maybe turned in the keys to the building that day. Maybe she swore never to own a business again. But the brave little heart that bought that store and rode it underwater with a smile on her face never really lost her fight.

She just needed to be brave until she could feel her way back up again.

(This was originally posted on my instagram.)