Alone is a failed strategy

I have a story I want to share, and because of this story I have created Table Talk community.

My name’s Deb. I’m 64. Been running small businesses since I was in my twenties — markets, cafés, craft stalls. Built them up, sold them, started again.

But this isn’t about me. It’s about the Tuesday mornings I spent in a little café on the corner. Same seat, same table. For years, it was my ritual — coffee, notebook, and watching the world go by.

Then one winter, I noticed something.
At the tables around me sat younger business owners. Laptops open, phones buzzing. They weren’t talking. They weren’t smiling. They looked… tired. Not the “I worked hard” tired. The “I’m doing this alone, and it’s crushing me” tired.

One morning, a girl in her late 20s sat across from me, laptop covered in sticky notes. She stared at the screen for ten minutes, no typing. Then she closed it, face pale, and whispered under her breath, “I can’t keep up.” She didn’t notice I heard.

That night I couldn’t sleep. I kept thinking: I’ve been there. The lonely stallholder who had to do it all. The café owner who smiled at customers but went home exhausted. I remembered wishing someone had sat at my table and said, “You don’t have to figure this out alone.”

The next Tuesday, I brought two notebooks. On the first page of one, I wrote:

“If you’re here, building something, and it feels too heavy — write your story. I’ll listen.”

I left it open on the spare chair.

For weeks? Nothing. People looked at it, shook their heads, and walked on.

Then, one day, I came back from ordering my coffee and saw handwriting in the notebook.

My heart ached. I wrote back under their words:

“You’re not crazy. You’re building. And builders get tired sometimes. Sit here next week. I’ll be here.”

The week after, there were three entries. Then six. Then pages filled with messy handwriting, tear stains, doodles, even business ideas. People left questions for each other, and strangers started answering.

It wasn’t polished. It wasn’t perfect. But slowly… that empty table turned into a community.

One Tuesday I arrived and found a gift — a coffee paid for, a card that said: “For starting this table. You reminded me I’m not alone.”

And it hit me: the real magic wasn’t in my notebook. It was in the people who found each other when someone finally gave them a seat.

Now? That café table isn’t just mine. It’s “the builders’ table.” People swap advice, swap stories, swap courage.

Because the truth is — entrepreneurs don’t really need more “hustle hacks.”
They need a place to be seen. A place to be heard. A table where someone says back: “I get it. You’re not alone.”

I created Table Talk Community just to ensure you know your not alone! https://www.skool.com/pinlead-5750/about?ref=628b5a5330b5414c926d0ef48b9b20d1