Now, I’m finally putting my family and myself first. I have new dreams to chase, new goals to reach. And while this chapter is closing, the story isn’t over.
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I knew the closure of The Queen’s Cups was coming. It was almost inevitable; the writing was on the wall. My husband said I had been mourning this for a long time and hadn’t been myself. He was right. I’ve been living in a private hell in my mind for three years, just trying to survive each day.
My therapist once asked me why I held on so long, especially after watching so many other small businesses around me close. I told her it was pride, but it was more than that. I loved my employees like family. I wanted to work with my dad for as long as I could. And, perhaps most painfully, I didn’t want to say goodbye to my dream.
The day I finally hit my breaking point was one of the first sunny weekends in Massachusetts after weeks of rain. I knew the shop would be slow: Good weather always meant customers were doing other things. I was able to leave early and spend the day with my children, something I should’ve cherished. But instead, I felt like I was on the verge of a panic attack. Our sales were only 40% of what they normally were. Saturdays were our big money days; the ones that kept us afloat. If Saturday was slow, Sunday would be slower. Bills were due Monday. The cycle was endless and crushing.
That night, I broke down. I didn’t tell my husband what was going on right away. I cried myself to sleep. The next morning, I told him the truth: I was depressed. By that evening, I finally said the words I’d been avoiding: I told him we had to close the shop.
“We did everything we could do, Renee,” he said. “We’ve tried everything.” He wasn’t wrong. We had. I had put our family in a financial mess, tested the strength of our marriage, and hadn’t been truly present in a long time. I was stuck in a cycle with no end in sight.
The hardest conversation was the one I had with my dad, my best friend, who met me at the bakery every morning at 4:15 a.m. I walked in crying and told him we were closing. He had no idea how deep in debt I was and how much pain I had been carrying, and he immediately offered to help in any way possible. But by then, there was nothing left to save. We sat there, in the quiet of the early morning, and cried. We knew it was over.
Then came another mountain I wasn’t sure I could climb: telling my employees. Before posting the announcement online, I had to tell them their jobs were ending. But as always, they met me with love and empathy. From that Monday on, none of them owed me anything, but they all stayed, showing up with strength, humor, and heart. They proved to me they would fight until the very end.
The love and support we received from the community is something I still haven’t fully processed. The messages, the cards, the hugs, the tears – unimaginable. I always thought The Queen’s Cups was my life, but I never realized how many lives it touched. Every single day, people waited in line, sometimes for more than an hour, to get their final TQC treats. They waited just to tell me how much the bakery meant to them. How we were there for their birthdays, graduations, weddings, and baby showers. How we brought joy to their hardest days.
I cried every day, but I tried to stay strong for my team. Their lives were changing too. I reminded them over and over: what they built here mattered. Their work meant something. We would never get this time together again, so we needed to cherish it.
On one of the final days, one of my employees looked at me and said, “I’ve never seen you this happy.” And it was true. For the first time in years, I felt the weight of the world lifting off my shoulders. It had been exhausting to put on a brave face every day – being the boss, the leader, the motivator – and then come home a shell of a person. My family deserves better than that. I deserve better than that.
Now, I’m finally putting my family and myself first. I have new dreams to chase, new goals to reach. And while this chapter is closing, the story isn’t over.
The struggle is over.
Renee Diaz is the former owner of Worcester bakery The Queen's Cups, and she is now pursuing a career in mental health.
