There is so much satisfaction when you see the visible and physical manifestation of your dreams take form. For the last 6 years I have put everything in me into building a boutique business. Nearly every morning that I would walk in my store, before I turned on any light, I would look around and get chills. I would think how amazing it was that I had come so far…
It wasn’t entirely on my own. Family, friends, and other lovely people that I met along my journey furnished me with the tools and help I needed to grow from $500, an idea, and a jar of locally-made chocolate to beautiful chandeliers hanging in a stunning boutique showroom. The store is so pretty and I have so much fun finding artisans of all kinds and picking out adorable clothes.
After transitioning from setting up booths at local art shows for 2 years I moved into my first storefront in the beginning of 2012. Two wildfires, two floods, and two name changes, and a move later I feel like I am at the cusp of a big turning point in my business. My name is starting to be recognized, I’m slowly building a loyal customer base, I’m just starting to be noticed by others across the country…and then it becomes clear I have to lay it all down.
I have struggled with this decision for over a year. Today I woke up in an emotional breakdown because I knew, that I knew, the time had come to close the store. Honestly, I’ve spent the better part of the day blubbering about a bunch a self-defeating nonsense and sporting puffy eyes, lips, and cheeks, and there’s an annoying throb buried somewhere in my head that keeps threatening to explode at any moment.
Yet…after I firmly made my decision there has been a soft peace. I still am catching myself tearing up at moments because it feels like part of me has been ripped away and I have a gaping wound. I did everything I could to hold on to my dream. Ultimately, I had to loosen my fingers and release it. Not easy to do. I know that sometimes we have to release one thing in order to move forward in the next steps. To me, it’s hard not to think that I’m throwing away 6 years of sweat, tears, sleepless nights, money, time away from my family…for what? I have no idea (yet).
In the end, I know that my God is faithful. Hope and faith mean doing what you know in your heart is right even though you can’t see the next steps. Hope reminds me that there is a promise in the future I can look forward to and faith leads me when I am blind.
I wish I had some wine right now because 1) it’s been a pretty rough day and 2) I’d raise my glass to say “here’s to the future and to stepping out in faith knowing that something good is going to come out of this even though I can’t see ‘squat’!”
Well, at least I’ll have more time to blog! ?
Toodles for now,