Saying Goodbye to My Little Business

“It’s possible,” I said as traffic started to move through the lights.

We were somewhere between the North York IKEA and the IKEA warehouse on Gordon Baker Road.

“What’s that?” my husband asked from behind the wheel.

I pointed to the license plate that was turning away from us. ITSPSSBL.

“I had to say it out loud for it to make sense,” I told him, realizing in that moment that the message on that little Toyota was the title theme for my first year as a full time business owner.

We were in the bowels of the city, fighting traffic and rain on a Tuesday evening in early January because incredibly, inexplicably, by the skin of my teeth, and with the determination of a rallying warrior, I had reached the 2022 gross financial goal I had set for my business back at the beginning of the year.

I’ve always believed in setting goals. I set small goals and I set large goals. This one felt huge and nearly impossible. It was important because it meant I wouldn’t be able to stop pushing; and in early November, when I realized I’d crossed 75%, I started to believe—really believe—that I could get there.

So I got loud about it. I shared that if I could pull this thing off, I would be rewarding myself with the yellow armchair I have wanted for years. Since Chicken House Press launched I have had a picture of that yellow chair pinned to the bulletin board beside my desk with a yellow pushpin - much like a farmer dangles a carrot in front of a donkey. So yes, I am an ass and that chair is my veggie of choice, and I was going to plow that field until my knees gave out if that was what it was going to take. I had pined and plowed quietly for ten months before I invited anyone to join me in my mission.

The outpouring of support was invigorating. People didn’t think I was being frivolous—it really felt like they wanted to see me succeed—and I became more determined than ever, watching that percentage point climb by 0.01% increments.

By Christmas Eve I was hovering around 95% and I thought, okay, this is fine. This is good. Well done me! 95% was a massive accomplishment, especially considering that I thought my goal was impossible. I was already planning my lesson post: how I’d speak about integrity and never backing down and how there is great strength in starting again at zero.

On Boxing Day, as I was writing an email to my great aunt, updating her on our Christmas and our life, I found myself writing this:

Things are going well with my little business…

In trying to appear humble and gentle (so I could maintain her affection?) I was being condescending to myself and everything I’ve built. I was making myself small. I was leading with limitations instead of celebrating my growth. I felt an itchy stink of shame creep up my spine as I read those words back. Words I no longer believed about myself or my little business.

2022 brought both failures and successes my way, but not once has it treated me like I was little. I’m not getting patted on the head for colouring inside the lines, I am loudly and proudly waving the flag that says, “Hey world! Your girl has added 22 new titles to the Canadian literary landscape, she’s been able to serve 87 writers at varying stages of their creative journeys, she won the Gold Medal in the local Best of the Best Reader’s Choice Awards for Best New Business, and she completed a ten week Small Business Course for Women that is helping her stay on track! Who are you calling little?”

As New Year’s Eve rolled around, I saw an influx of last minute 2022 orders (the final one entering my inbox at 11:59 pm!) and I closed out the year at 102.16% of that lofty financial goal.

Three days later we were folding down the backseats of our little hatchback and taking a 4.5 hour round trip to realize the dream that’s been pinned to my bulletin board for an entire year.

This is not a chair; this is a symbol.

It’s a symbol of achieving a major goal. It’s a symbol of an optimistic future. It’s a gold medal. It’s an atta girl. It’s affirmation. It’s beauty. It’s grace. It’s a smile on my face. 😏

To everyone who followed the yellow chair campaign on social media, to those who cheered me on, and to those who made purchases in the final days, bringing me over that threshold I needed to succeed… THANK YOU! 💛 Every time I sit in this chair or admire its classic lines, I will be thinking of you.

2023 lays before me as a vast slate of possibility. My goals are bigger. My determination is surer. My path is clearer. And I hope, in some way, it will lead me to serve you in bigger and better ways than before.

I will no longer lead with limitations. This is not my little business. This is my future. Watch out!