Espresso Yourself: Lucy’s Journey to Deja Brew

We created the Level Up Club to spotlight real people doing brave things, not because they have it all figured out, but because they encountered hurdles and still decided to give it a damn good try. Lucy Mann is one of those people. She didn’t just build a coffee trailer, she rebuilt her life. This is her story, in her own words.

I moved back to the island at 23 after pushing my mental health to its limits and realising the UK just wasn’t right for me anymore. Starting over wasn’t easy. I’d sold everything, had no car, and was borrowing my parents’ – but I went back to what I knew: working with horses, continuing my training, and teaching riding again.

At the time, I was running marathons (and had a real talent for injuring myself), so at 24, I swapped the trainers for a bike. That switch changed everything. Cycling became my reset. It gave me structure, purpose, and a new way to connect with people. It even helped me repair my relationship with food.

Six months later, things began to shift. I landed a varied job teaching and working as a PA. I was finally able to buy my first car – a bright orange Mini called Bumble. Progress felt possible.

Then, just after Christmas, I was hit by a car.

I’ll never forget that moment… the realisation I was about to be hit and there was nothing I could do. Time stopped. I remember everything. I wouldn’t wish that feeling on anyone. I hit the bonnet at speed, bones shattering on impact, and flew over the car. For a second, I was airborne, thinking, This is it. I hit the road, rolled to a stop, and opened my eyes in somewhat inconvenient pain – somehow still alive. I called my own ambulance; the driver was in shock.

To clear up any myths: your life doesn’t flash before your eyes. You think of everyone you love, and all the things you haven’t done. That thought will either break you or make you fight. Luckily, I’m petty, and I fought.

It happened on 29 December 2020. I was 25. I left home like it was any normal day and I didn’t come home. Your perspective on life shifts fast. You learn how much your life is legally worth. You feel survivor’s guilt. And the irony of finally getting a job and a car, only to sell it all to pay legal fees, is not lost on you.

It took two years for the driver to admit guilt. In that time, I left my job, focused on cycling and got hired at the Sugarloaf Café. Nick, the owner at the time, took a chance on someone who barely knew the difference between a latte and a cappuccino. I just wanted a simpler life. I commuted from Douglas to Port St Mary, and it was one of the best times of my life. I loved talking to people, the independent vibe, the team, the regulars. Sugarloaf will always have a special place in my heart. They even sponsored my cycling kit before I qualified for the Gran Fondo World Championships in Italy.

That bike took me around the world. I worked in coffee shops, met amazing people, and eventually worked at Roots before heading to New Zealand. As much as I loved NZ, my heart belonged here with my friends and family.

I'd always dreamed of owning a mobile coffee trailer. I remember telling the Sugarloaf team that back when I didn’t even have a car. Slowly, I worked hard, saved, and got what I needed. When I came back from New Zealand full of ideas, I applied to the Department for Enterprise’s new business scheme. I was accepted and started their course. While working at Roots, I was given incredible support and Roots continues to support me, something I will always be grateful for. Thank you, Jamie.

After months of thinking up names, Deja Brew was born. A nod to my forgetfulness and love of puns. I met Ben from Courtesy Studio, and thanks to him, the gorgeous branding came to life. I bought a "ready-to-go" converted trailer from Edinburgh… except it wasn’t really ready. It had no reverse gear. I somehow made it all the way from Scotland to the Isle of Man without reversing, until it got stuck in Ballabeg estate.

The trailer needed major work. Repanelled, certified, repainted, refitted, the lot. But it was built on kindness. Everyone who helped gave something of themselves. When a problem came up, there was always a solution, and if not, it wasn’t meant to be.

I won’t sugar-coat it... starting a business is hard. And expensive. Whatever you think your budget is, double it. Build a good support network. Be transparent. Give credit where it’s due. And yeah, you will probably cry. A lot. That’s why the “cry tally” board was born. It was supposed to be an order board. Oh well. If you don’t laugh, you’ll cry, and if you do cry, why not laugh anyway.

Imposter syndrome is real. If you care deeply about what you’re building, you’ll feel it. Rejection is tough, especially when your business is an extension of yourself. But you have to accept criticism to grow.

There’s never a perfect time to launch. My trailer wasn’t 100% ready when I opened but I was out of money. I had £20 in the business account, nothing in my personal one, and every last penny had gone into painting a hot pink and blue trailer (which I did myself, with help from a few determined friends). But I put the ramp down. People liked it. And I truly believe the beauty of Deja Brew is its soul.

There are so many people to thank. My best friend David hand-painted the logos. Ben built the brand. Emma, John, and Brian let me use their garden (and witnessed me fall off a ladder sanding the roof). This trailer is a labour of love. I love bright colours because, for a long time, I couldn’t see them. I built myself back up to be capable of running this business and I love every second of it.

I’ve loved getting to know my suppliers, working with DEFA, and having my cat Dennis as an accidental mascot. I love the community that’s forming around Deja Brew. Coffee, sweet treats and the outdoors kept me going. Now, I finally have the capacity to support others the way I was supported.

This might sound like a sad story, but honestly that accident was the best thing that ever happened to me. I stopped existing and started living. I went from being asked, “Why on earth are you a barista?” to living the dream. I was always this person, I just didn’t have the resources.

My goal for Deja Brew is to keep growing. Get involved in more events, promote active lifestyles, create community, and encourage people to slow down. I want it to be a safe space. One day, maybe I’ll have a permanent site. Until then, I’m happy on the journey.

If you’re thinking of starting a business, my biggest advice is: stay authentic. If you’re in it for quick cash, it won’t happen. Money and success are side effects. Build something you’re proud of. Take feedback. Set boundaries. And don’t compare yourself to others because comparison really is the thief of joy.

The one big thing I’ve learned? This island is incredibly welcoming to new businesses. Lean into that. Support others and thrive together. It’s beautiful and yes, a bit stressful. But what fun would it be without some stress?

I always say now: I don’t fear change, I fear regret. You’ve got to get uncomfortable to grow. Life is short. Don’t get to that moment lying on the ground thinking of everything you didn’t do. That’s the thought that haunts you the most.

What Lucy’s built with Deja Brew is more than a business. It’s a beautiful, bright symbol of what’s possible when you back yourself, even when everything feels stacked against you. Her journey reminds us that some of the best ideas come from the messiest moments, and that starting again doesn't mean failure... it means choosing growth.

Lucy, we’re in awe. You’re not just serving coffee, you’re serving inspiration, one steaming cup at a time.