On Potholes, Pains, and the Power of Being Still
There is a version of small business ownership that lives on social media—it’s all perfectly styled shelves, the "ping" of new orders, and effortless morning coffees.
Then there is the version I’ve lived for the last month.
April was, quite frankly, a black hole. It started with a bout of flu just before Easter that didn't just "slow me down"—it quite literally put me to bed. I spent two weeks staring at the same corner of my living room, wrapped in a blanket, wearing my brightest socks just to remind myself that color still existed (as you can see from the "view" I’ve shared above).
When the silence feels loud
The hardest part of being ill when you run your own business isn't the physical pain (though the sinusitis-induced toothache that followed the flu was, without exaggeration, the most excruciating thing I’ve ever felt). The hardest part is the quiet.
When you aren't posting, when you aren't emailing, and when you’re too dizzy from "horse-sized" antibiotics to even think about the shop, it feels like the business starts to fade away. It’s a strange feeling to look at your inbox and see it filled with requests for raffle prizes and sponsorships from people who have never stepped foot in the shop, while the actual connection to our community feels like it's drifting.
Scott has been a hero, keeping the wheels turning while running his own business simultaneously, but a shop like The Soar Trading Co. is built on a partnership. When half of that is missing, the silence is heavy.
The Road Back (Literally)
Recovery hasn't been a straight line. I managed to get out to The Garage Chilwell and Derby Market at the end of the month, but even then, the world felt a bit too loud and a bit too fast.
For a while, even the car journey was impossible. If you think the potholes in our area are bad, try hitting one when you have an infection radiating through your jaw and ears. It was enough to bring me to tears, a literal jolting reminder that I wasn't ready to be back yet.
Finding the Light Again
It is only in the last few days that the fog has truly lifted. The pain is gone, the "teeny tiny" codeine tablets are back in the cupboard, and I’m finally starting to function as a human being again.
I’m sharing this not for sympathy, but for honesty. Small businesses are fragile, not just because of the economy, but because they are powered by real people with real health and real "black hole" months.
If you’ve popped into the shop lately, sent a kind message, or simply waited patiently for an email reply—thank you. You are the reason the lights stay on.
I’m back at 6 Market Place now, restocking the shelves (including those new Sea Salt & Sage scents that I can finally actually smell!) and getting ready for a busy Bank Holiday.
It’s good to be back.
Tiggi x