Today is a lucky day for the blogger in me. I wanted to spend the day in my upcycling studio here in Heidelberg Germany. But, for the first time ever, I left my house without the key to my studio. I always keep it with me in the little leather zip pouch in my Betty. Always. And many days I don’t even need it, and then I have to rummage around it in order to find all my other keys and the only key it turns out to be is the key to my craziness. But today I really wanted to be in my studio and I somehow couldn’t work through the disappointment that something so small, as small as a little crazy-making key, could make such a difference in my day and in my feeling of my week going well.
I will be honest, in the last two months I have struggled to feel like my weeks are going well. Little things like forgetting a key, the flat tire on my bike being stubborn and difficult to fix, or even my coffee bean canister being empty have made me feel like a total defeatist. Like I just want to crawl right back into bed. (Actually, after the coffee bean thing happened I did crawl back into bed.) I am struggling to feel like I am coming further in many things. I feel so blocked and frustrated. And there is a big reason why…
I didn’t share this publicly, because I am the type of person who doesn’t always share a journey. It’s too vulnerable to me, somehow. I know social media or online presence is a lot about sharing a journey so people can follow along and feel like they are right there with you. But sometimes being right there with me would mean that you would see all my anxieties, vulnerabilities, and doubt in myself. And that shit gets really real. Another factor is, sometimes a journey does not always go the way you planned. And sharing that something you worked hard on didn’t work out feels very raw. These reasons, coupled together with the fact that I couldn’t believe that something so seemingly great was actually happening to me, was why I didn’t share what I have really been working on for the last year and half. That I have been planning, along with my business partner, to buy a sustainable fashion shop. I didn’t share about the countless hours I invested in learning everything I could about how to make a store work, about figuring out the numbers and how to understand them so I could feel like I was capable of handling the responsibility and working with those sums of money. About the professional consultations we invested time and energy into and all the while planning how to improve things for the future. The countless unpaid hours I invested. Hours I could not invest into Port Amelie because they were invested in the shop. There was so much I didn’t understand. The taxes, the system, the sides of the business I had not yet learned, and the language. Everything I do in this branch I try to do (or attempt) in German. Sometimes during calls with the tax consultant my head felt like it just wanted to pop off my body and sputter through the atmosphere like a balloon loosing air, making farting sounds at a higher and higher pitch. My German business partner assured me that she was also overwhelmed, which did ease the pain of feeling like I was always trailing behind in these conversations. Still, even with her reassurances (she’s the best in so many ways), some important conversations just stared to sound like bleep bloop bleep blapp. If you don’t know the vocabulary, all the words sound the same. Like little nightmares floating out of someone else’s vocal cords. All you language learners put your hands up cause I know you feel me.
I not only had to overcome the hurdles about the pragmatic, practical aspects of the endeavor, but also the way I see myself and the way I imagine my future. This was also a way I had to grow. To feel that I would be able to feel well equipped enough to have this kind of responsibility and commitment. Responsibility and commitment. Two words I am terrified of!! Thank goodness for therapy, where I have space to explore all of these feelings. Needless to say, this ‘project’ consumed my time and energy in the present, my feelings about my capabilites in the past, and the entire way I planned and envisioned my future.
At the last minute, after much consideration, deliberation, and all the countless hours I mentioned before, we backed out of the deal. Our notary appointment was a week away. We even had to pay for him to prep the contracts (although heaven sent a white collar angel and he charged us about a quarter of the price he could have. Thank you notary gods.) Simply put, we did not have the overhead we needed to feel like it was going to be a manageable endeavor. We were uncomfortable with taking on a greater risk or taking out a higher loan than what we had been advised in the beginning that we would need. It was frustrating, and needless to say it was frustrating for everyone involved, including the owner of the shop who was also very disappointed things did not go through.
I am still trying to process this whole project. Weighing what I learned versus the time I spent on it and the disappointment I feel. I should add that it was not my dream to own and operate a shop. I slowly let the idea grow on me because the opportunity presented itself, but not because it was my ultimate wish and I was trying to fulfill a dream. Because of this, and because I let my inner world and the way I see myself grow into being a shop owner, I am having a very difficult time figuring out if it’s something I still want. It’s like I cultivated a version of myself because someone suggested that I could. Now that it is cultivated, but the shop has not manifested, I don’t know what to do with this new version of myself. If I want to keep fostering it or not. If I want to keep moving in that direction or if that isn’t really me at all. It is hard not to see it all as time lost. In reality, only time will tell how valuable the experience really was. I feel like I now own a bunch of lemons and I don’t even know if I want lemonade.
I’m not going to sum this all up in a nice paragraph at the end. I don’t even have photos to add to this post. It’s just me coming back to the root of why I started Port Amelie in the first place. A place for creative expression, for my thoughts, a place for my passion of working with textiles, and a place to expand. And through expansion, authenticity and vulnerability. If you read this and you know how it feels to have something you worked hard on not work out, me too. If you didn’t know where to go from there, I feel ya. I hope if you relate to my journey of feeling built up and let down, feeling disoriented and frustrated, of struggling to know what to do with those lemons, that you feel less alone. I feel less alone sharing it with you.