Closing Your Small Business: The Grieving Process
This topic was originally covered in 2 blog posts published in the summer of 2017 when I could finally find my words and got back some sanity after closing shop in 2015. In retrospect, while telling my story was healing at the time, the posts were quite raw and too wordy. They started making me feel weird, instead of helping.
I thought about taking them down, but then covid hit and “Grieving a Buisness” became the most searched and clicked on post on my blog. I left it up to offer the support and solidarity I never had.
I have taken both 2017 posts, consolidated them below and have added some practical self care tips to truly be helpful to the small business owners who have stumbled onto this post after finding- just as I had in 2015- that this is a topic most entrepreneurs face, but no one wants to address publicly.
If you’re one of these people, I hope my story offers you comfort and peace. You are absolutely not alone. Please feel free to email or inbox me if you’d like some emotional support and solidarity. Losing your business is something I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy.
TW: This post contains descriptions of mental illness, addiction and suicidal thoughts.
Every day we pass businesses closing on the street and now online. “Liquidation”. “Out of Business”. “Closing Sale”.
With each sign, people feel sadness, smugness, or disappointment for themselves that they will not be able to frequent the business anymore.
But it’s rare that outside of other entrepreneurs that anyone stops to think of the human being behind that business.
In June 2015, I was raw. For 72 hours prior it had been a blur of friends showing up to help me fill the dumpster (one friend even came with a bottle of real champagne- to celebrate the “success” that was my shop!) equipment sharks coming to buy my last bits in cash so I could at least pay my staff their last checks, grief stricken customers, a few “you deserved it” poison emails and shock from those who hadn't heard the news yet.
After my last trip from the bakery- being driven by one of my investors- and leaving the key with my bankrupcy trustee who had told me there was no hope 48 hours earlier, I came home and vomited.
The next day I made the decision to leave the city until I could fathom what had happened. I headed for my parents' hamlet 3 hours away immediately.
I’m not proud and don’t recommend it, but during the first two weeks I wasn’t sober once. I took calls from friends and my therapist on my parents landline (I hadn't been able to even pay my cell bill at the end of my business so it was the only way to reach me).
A few weeks in, it was time to sign my bankrupcy papers. My partner and my friend dropped me off at the notary’s office. If you've never experienced a bankrupcy before, let me tell you- You literally sign about 50 pages, every single one saying “your name, bankrupt” just below the line just in case there were any doubts.
I wept openly the entire time.
As my time away from the city went on, I sobered up a bit but progressed into crying myself to sleep most nights. That’s around the time that the nightmares started. They have the same premise- that I was back in the bakery and everything was just as it had been until the last day. Then I’d wake up and realize it was no longer. I honestly thought at that point that I was going crazy, but I have since learned that it’s common when grieving to replay the traumatic stuff over and over until our brain can really grasp it. Even in business.
I had full blown panic attacks almost every day and felt restless and deeply heartbroken. At the end of the first month, I started to think that ending my life would be easier than continuing to deal with what I was experiencing. Having been a depressed suicidal teen prior to my mental illness diagnosis in my twenties and some meds, these thoughts- though old- were too familiar and were becoming more and more tempting. It scared me to bits.
After 6 weeks it was time to get back to life. Head down, I came back to the city.
I avoided everyone like the plague. I recall one night walking 2 blocks over to my friends balcony for a private drink and running into a devoted regular who ran up to me with open arms. I was so panicked and triggered I almost threw up.
Online and in real life, I was received with joy, empathy or anger. Nothing in between. I had entered Ottawa's social purgatory.
The most common reaction I received in public life was being treated like a wounded animal. There would be big sympathetic eyes- sometimes with tears- and I felt folks waiting to see if I would crumble in front of them. At first I was incensed. I'd come home and brood for weeks over this unwanted, uninvited sympathy. It made me feel weak. As time went by, I had to remind myself that this came from a good, caring place. This wasn't just about me, the Business had meant something to a lot of folks. I'd been selfish in not realizing that sooner.
Other days, there were no well wishes or love.
Such as the former employee who accosted me on the street as I was returning home late one evening, shouting at me as they followed me to my front door, waking all my neighbours. The former supplier rep who came through my line at my part time job and snidely remarked it was nice to see me "reaping what I'd sown." The three troll accounts who added me on social media just to send me hateful messages. It was ernough to almost send me over the edge again.
I also had a new problem- I needed a job.
There’s a bit of a stain on someone who’s been self employed. I had failed, and I had failed very publicly. Feeling a bit of a scarlet letter burning upon my chest, I began working on my resume and applying for anything.
A high tech entrepreneurship based firm. Entrepreneurship support centres. Business school at the college I graduated from. Even reception and retail.
Then, a friend who owned his own company threw me a line. I should apply to be their office manager, he said. And I did. And I got it. I was elated! A Monday- Friday schedule, a salary and a progressive workplace doing exciting ethical work.
Turns out I’m not cut out for office work, or having multiple bosses. We parted ways amicably after a few months.
In my first month of unemployment the CRA pegged me for a “trust exam” to see if I was truly broke before I closed. (No problem, I was. I hadn’t paid myself in almost 2 years at that point). But that was enough to rattle my cage and I started panicking. Even worse, I took up binge drinking to numb what was happening.
In the summer of 2016, I ended up securing a part time retail job with a government agency selling a controlled substance. If you’re in Ontario you know what I’m talking about.
It felt good to do shift work, get out of the house and do what I excelled at - talking to strangers, matching products to needs, but also having to stick up for myself and challenge folks under the influcence.
When you’re a small business owner, your desirability skyrockets. You're invited to lecture, teach, mentor, give input and discuss. Not so much when you're a failed entrepreneur.
Failed entrepreneurs have seen both sides and are more aware. I've seen the proverbial bomb about to crash into my first business, and I now know the warning signs.
I now use this knowledge to help others and save businesses.
I can relate to entrepreneurs in trouble because I've been there too.
I'm tired of seeing our community throw out failed entrepreneurs like trash - rumours, speculation and snark swirling around each closure. We have contributed to the community and economy, making up the unique tapestry that is a city’s small business scene and culture. We deserve better treatment. Before, during and especially after business ownership.
After months of trying to find employment in which I could apply my years of experience and knowledge, I gave up and did what I've always done. I gave myself a job and filled a market need. The Food Business Coach was born.
I'm a firm believer that things happen for a reason, and you land in the places that you're supposed to. There's a reason I didn't get full time work under someone else -because I'm independent minded, entrepreneurial, and strong as hell. My work and advocacy in the small business world isn’t over yet.
My advice to you if you’ve made it to the end of this post is to give yourself room and space to grieve your business, just like it was an actual person. You have value and knowledge- apply it. Find the people who love you and the hobbies you love and cling to them.
You deserve to have a happy life, and owning a business may have felt tied to your identity, but it was just a moment in your life. There will be many more to come.
Practical Self Care Tips for Business Grieving
If possible, limit alcohol and drug use. It’ll only prolong things.
Consider temporarily disabling your social media accounts while you recuperate
Surround yourself with comforting people
Journal about how you are feeling
Make a list of your good qualities
Talk with other business owners who have closed shop