The Story of Joy

Written by LYKKE Kids founder, Lainie Holmes

I kept the movie stub in my wallet to remind me to be brave.

This was the moment when my story of joy began…

I was eight months pregnant with our second kiddo. Waddling stage.

My mom and dad were in Toronto visiting us over the holidays. Our oldest had just turned 1, and Eric and I hadn’t gone out together in over a year.  So when my parents offered to watch him, we decided to go for it. Let’s see a movie!

We looked for something with the earliest start time - to better our chances of staying awake. I didn’t want to watch anything about death or something too emotional. Grandma Lainie (I was named after her, my Mom’s mom) had passed away that year and I was having a really hard time with it. I wanted to watch something light and funny.

We went to see the movie, Joy. It seemed safe enough.

I was wrong.

If you haven’t seen it, the movie is based on the true story of Joy Mangano. Joy was a single mom who later became a millionaire through products she designed. 

As a child, she was very creative and inventive.  She would draw and create inventions for school projects. And her family life was very unpredictable and volatile, with fighting and tension, but she always had her grandma. 

Joy’s grandma, Mimi, was her biggest cheerleader and supporter; the person who always had time for her.  Mimi would tell Joy that she was destined for great things. She was that loving, encouraging voice. And when Joy was in the middle of trying to get her product to market and experiencing a lot of setbacks, her grandma died. 

Well, here I am, a month away from having our second baby. I had been missing Gram so much. I still couldn’t talk about her without crying. Even the mention of her name or brief thought of her, my eyes would well up. 

Now I’m sitting watching someone else lose their grandma too.  

Hold it together, Lainie. 

Think of something else. 

Think of something else. 

Look around the room.

Don’t cry.  

I knew if I started, I would be sobbing in a theatre and everyone would hear me.

I missed her so much. 

She was our cheerleader, who made us believe we could do anything.  Our person.

And she would want me to be happy.  She would want me to go for it too.  

At the time, I was just promoted to a new role at work. I was a curriculum coordinator, leading a team of educators within the school board. I finally felt like I had a voice at a senior leadership table. I wanted to have a say in what was happening for kids and how we supported kids and educators. And yet something felt off.

I didn’t love it. It wasn’t the fit for me. I was moving further away from working directly with kids.

Why did I keep pushing myself to take promotions even when they didn’t feel right?

When I walked out of the theatre that night holding Eric’s hand, my big round pregnant belly in front of me, I remember looking up at the sky, not sure who I was saying this to, but in my head I said, I’m done.  I will do my own thing.  I don’t know what I’m going to do but I’ll figure it out. She’d want me to.

That was in 2015.

It took me 4 more years to build up the courage to finally do it. On January 15, 2019, I submitted my “retirement form” with the least amount of fanfare possible. They didn’t even have a resignation form - that shows you how often teachers leave the profession. Many don’t.

I was sitting alone in our bedroom while the kids napped. I filled out an online form through the school board. I was asked to pick my last day from a calendar. I called out to Eric, “am I really going to do this?!” His answer, “Do you want to keep going for another 15 years?” Me, “no.” I clicked submit. Just like that. A click of a button and I ended an entire career. Maybe a bit dramatic, but that’s how it felt at the time.

But it was ending one part of my life and putting myself in a position where I would be forced to start something new.  I wanted our kids to grow up seeing a mom who loved what she did. I wanted them to feel brave enough to do work that is meaningful to them and not worry about the expectations or views of others, so I needed to do that myself.

What Should We Name It?

Fast forward to 2023, it’s been 8 years since that night at the movies when we went to see Joy and I left promising to do something different. I’ve decided to create a space for kids at 2038 Danforth and now we need to name it.

At the time, I’m reading another book by Meik Wiking (from Denmark) called The Little Book of LYKKE.

And then I find out what LYKKE means…

Joy.

Well isn’t that fitting. Joy it is.

I’ve since gone back and watched the movie again. It doesn’t affect me in the same way. I guess it was just the timing of it all. It isn’t every day you go to a movie and make the decision to change your life in big, unexpected ways. I still carry the movie stub in my wallet and a purple crayon hangs in a frame at the front door to remind me of Gram.