05/11/2026
I’ve been sitting here trying to figure out how honest to be with this post.
Because the easy version would be:
“Business closed. Thank you everyone for the support.”
But that wouldn’t be the truth.
The truth is… this experience broke us more than people realize.
I went into North Star Cantina (Lounge) believing in people.
Believing in partnership.
Believing that if everyone worked as hard as they promised, we could build something incredible together.
North Star Cantina (Lounge) was never some lifelong dream or passion project for me.
It was an investment.
A belief in people.
An opportunity I genuinely thought could become something special.
And the truth is, those decisions were mine.
I chose the partnerships.
I chose to invest.
I believed in the vision.
So I also take responsibility for believing in the wrong people for too long.
But what many people don’t see is what happened behind the scenes after that.
My husband , Michael, stepped into that storm with me.
He didn’t create the situation.
He inherited it with me.
And without a single complaint, he worked beside me every single day trying to save it.
Long days.
Late nights.
Constant stress.
Financial pressure.
Physical exhaustion.
Mental exhaustion.
And still… he showed up.
There were days we barely sat down.
Days we questioned everything.
Days we looked at each other completely drained trying to figure out how much more we could carry.
People see a business closing.
What they don’t see is the human cost behind it.
The anxiety.
The pressure of payroll.
Watching savings disappear.
Trying to hold everything together while pretending you’re okay.
You keep telling yourself:
“Just one more month.”
“Once summer comes.”
“Once we get busier.”
“Once we figure it out.”
And sometimes… you never do.
One of the hardest lessons for me was realizing that not everyone will fight for your investment the way you do.
Some people quit emotionally long before they leave physically.
Some people walk away when things get hard.
And some people simply don’t carry the weight you carry as the owner, because they can’t. It’s not their risk.
But it was ours.
And eventually we had to face something we did not want to admit:
we were sacrificing our mental health trying to save something that was slowly destroying us.
Could we have pushed through the summer?
Sure.
Maybe the lounge would have finally taken off.
Maybe we would have gotten busy.
Maybe we could have recovered some of the financial losses.
But at what cost?
By then we were already exhausted.
Already anxious.
Already carrying stress and pressure every single day.
And we had to ask ourselves a hard question:
even if the business survived… would we?
Because there comes a point where chasing “maybe” can pull you so deep mentally that no amount of future success feels worth it anymore.
That realization hurts.
Because when you’re an entrepreneur, stopping feels like failure.
You keep thinking maybe success is one more push away.
Maybe if you work harder.
Maybe if you invest more.
Maybe if you suffer a little longer.
But there’s a difference between persistence and self-destruction.
And I think part of maturity is learning when to stop before you completely lose yourself.
Closing North Star Cantina (Lounge) was not a lack of passion.
If anything, it was finally accepting reality.
Not every investment works.
Not every partnership lasts.
Not every person you believe in will show up the way you hoped.
And sometimes the strongest thing you can do is stop waiting for the “maybe one day” that keeps costing you your peace.
I’m proud of what we created.
There were beautiful moments there.
Real moments.
A place people genuinely enjoyed.
But honestly, what I’m most grateful for is that through all of this, Michael and I never turned against each other.
When things got hard, we became more of a team.
Not less.
And that means more to me than any business ever could.
To everyone who supported us, encouraged us, showed up, shared posts, brought friends, and believed in us:
thank you.
And to anyone out there silently drowning while trying to hold together a business, a dream, or a life that no longer works…
Please remember:
walking away is not always weakness.
Sometimes it’s survival.
And to the people who watched quietly, judged loudly, waited for failure, or enjoyed the downfall a little too much…
I genuinely hope you get something meaningful out of this story too. Even if it’s just a reminder that behind every “failed business” are real humans doing the best they can.
On another note…
If anyone has ever dreamed of owning a lounge/bar space in Wells, the business and building may become available as a turnkey opportunity heading into busy season. Available ASAP.
Beautiful space.
Established location on Route 1.
Fully built out and operational.
Or just the building. Will be up for sale soon.
Feel free to message me privately.
