Judgement Day
Are people judging me for losing everything? Absolutely. We all judge each other everyday, either silently or publicly. We judge each other’s looks, how we talk, what we do and how we do it. Judgement does not necessarily carry with it degrading and hateful connotations, but inside we feel it is. Am I afraid of judgement? I used to be paralysed with the fear from being judged. Now, I say bring it on.
Judgement stated publicly says more about the person commenting than the act they are judging. One customer left an awful review on my cafe site on google. I was devastated. I wanted to be a keyboard warrior and crush them. Instead I slept on it, after crying myself to sleep, thinking that everyone is going to believe this person and it will destroy my business. When I got up I left a simple comment “Thanks for letting us know.” I wanted to say thanks for putting this on google for millions of people to see instead of just telling me the soup was cold, but I didn’t. I realised that her comment and where she had put it, said way more about her than my cold soup, and my response said a lot about me. It inferred that I didn’t appreciate being told so publicly but it also showed grace. I copped it on the chin.
During the last days of my business, when I knew I was in trouble but still hoping for – something – I really don’t know what I was hoping / waiting for, I thought about being judged as a failure. I think I held on so long because I was more afraid of the public humiliation. What are my customers going to think about me? Everyone’s going to say I told you so. This is going to be unbearable, I can’t face it.
On the morning of the closing, I already knew I would be closing but I needed to hear advice from one more person who had expertise in the area. I had sent him my financials and waited his opinion. We sat and had coffee and he told me he had read through them and that it wasn’t looking good. I said I know. He said, if this was your friend, what would you tell them. Without hesitation I said, I would tell them to get out right now. And there is your answer.
After he left I closed the doors behind him, paid off the staff, went into the kitchen and wept. It was over and I had failed. I had lost everything in the process and failed.
But the during, during it all, trying to build up something, feeding people good food, serving them beautiful coffee – this was the happiest I had ever been in my life, bar the birth of my children. I was happy everyday. I worked 12-14 hours a day 6 days a week and I loved every moment of it. All the floods, the wrong deliveries, the gas not working, the fridges failing – everything. Every bad thing thrown at me I hit back to the universe and laughed. I was joyous.
I realised, after my kids kept telling me that this wasn’t my fault, that I was up against market forces well beyond my control. I folded first but I won’t be the last. I was watching Jerry Seinfeld on Netflix and in an off the cuff remark he mentioned how stores are closing all over New York. All the little specialty small businesses are all disappearing and he wondered what was going to be left – banks and coffee? Food will always be around for sure, I thought I had a safe bet – but I didn’t, not for the rent the landlord was asking for anyway. There will be way more to follow.
If I was judging me, I would say why didn’t you try this, market that, change this, brand that. But I did everything, I mean everything, that I possibly could. I threw every bit of marketing knowledge, social media, paid advertising, collaborating, clean menus, changing coffee, redecorating, rebranding, everything. Everything I would tell someone else to do, I did. I worked as hard as I could. Could I have worked 14 or 16 hours a day, 7 days a week? Would that have made the difference? I couldn’t do that. I have chronic fatigue and I was amazed I was even able to do 12 hours 6 days a week without collapsing. Did my body pay a price? Yes it did. But I made sure to get 8 hours of sleep a night, absolutely crucial if you have an autoimmune condition, and made sure my diet was squeaky clean and I stuffed in vitamins like lollies.
If what it takes is to work 16 hours a day 7 days a week, then something is wrong – somewhere. Good consistent hard work should be enough and when it isn’t, you have to face the fact that you are going the wrong way honey.
I went the wrong way, for a longer time than I should have, but it was so much fun while I was there I didn’t want to leave. I didn’t want to lose it. I still cry about the loss every day because I’m still grieving, and that’s OK. Judge me if you have to. Think of me as a shit businesswoman if you must. Decide I’m broke all on my own and it’s all my own fault. No-one is going to judge me more harshly than me, so knock yourself out.
Just be ready to have it come back at you 10 fold if you ever try something. Fail or succeed, you’ll be judged too.
