From Empty to Espresso

I was 38 when my marriage ended.
Ten years of love, a house we built together, shared dreams gone in a moment. What was left was silence. And a man who no longer knew who he was without us.

I gave everything I had. Most of what I’d built went to her and the kids. And that’s okay it was my decision. But it meant starting over from zero. A small apartment with bare walls, a mattress on the floor, and barely enough for groceries.

I worked days in a warehouse, took odd jobs at night anything to get by. No dinners out, no new clothes, no nights with friends. Not because I didn’t want to, but because every euro counted. I made a promise to myself: I would rebuild. Not out of bitterness, but out of belief.

That belief showed up in the most unexpected way: an old espresso machine I bought for €25 on Facebook Marketplace. Making coffee had always calmed me. Maybe because it slowed time down. Maybe because I liked making people feel seen, even if just for five minutes with a warm cup in their hands.

I started small. Coffee for neighbors. Then for a local yoga studio. Every cent I made went into savings. After a year, I had enough to buy a secondhand coffee cart.
I called it Coffee with Character because every cup I made carried a piece of my story.

It was slow. Some days I stood outside in the rain and sold only two cappuccinos. But there were also days when someone came back just to have “that warm little moment again.” And that meant everything.

Three years later, my coffee cart is now a small shop on the corner. Every morning, I make the first espresso by hand, as a quiet reminder of how far I’ve come.

To anyone reading this who feels lost:
You don’t have to have it all figured out. You don’t need to have it all right now. Just keep moving. Stay close to what gives you peace even the smallest thing. Sometimes, rock bottom is exactly where your roots begin to grow.

- Anonymous