A few years ago, I found myself in the midst of a personal crisis that completely altered the course of my life. It was a pivotal moment when I realized that life is a series of events, each presenting an opportunity to shape the narrative that unfolds in the subsequent chapters.
On that particular day, I stood in the hallway of my apartment complex, staring at the carpeted floor, gripping onto my then-husband’s foot as he callously discarded me like unwanted toilet paper stuck to his shoe. You see, just a few hours earlier, he had awoken me to inform me that he had drained our bank account, cut off our utilities, and was leaving me to return to his mother, who had promised him a brand new truck as a reward for abandoning our marriage. A truck! I was being traded in for a shiny, new, blue vehicle!
Needless to say, it wasn’t the kind of day I had anticipated when I went to bed the night before. As I lay there, paralyzed by the shock and pain, I heard the soft voice of an elderly woman from across the hall. She whispered, “Are you okay? Honey, get up!” Her gentle concern permeated the air, but I felt incapable of moving.
While one might assume that my mind would be consumed with thoughts of how to survive—how to put food on the table, restore the utilities, and navigate the logistical challenges of starting anew—those practical concerns were far from my immediate thoughts. Instead, a barrage of existential questions haunted me. “Who was I? How had I become this person? How had my life become so fragile that a man with such shallow priorities could leave me here, broken and empty, on the floor of this hallway?”
The harsh reality of my circumstances quickly set in. I was broke, lacking marketable skills, and devoid of inspiration. Tomorrow was fast approaching, and yet there I remained, stuck on the floor of that apartment corridor.
That kind old woman stayed by my side as long as I did, a beacon of goodness in a world that seemed cruel at that moment. She wanted me to know that the world wasn’t entirely malevolent, even though he had been. She wanted me to know that someone cared. Her sweet voice became the catalyst that gave me the strength to rise from that floor and seek the answers I desperately needed, but this time on a much softer surface. “Honey, get up!”
But how does one do that? I spent the subsequent years rebuilding not only my life but also the foundational blocks that would later serve as a testament to others on how to reconstruct themselves after life, love, and failure vie for control of their stories.
I had to confront a plethora of limiting mindsets and shed the weight of countless sorrowful narratives that, truth be told, could have earned me an Emmy for the most tragic tale. It would have been understandable if I had chosen to stay down. After all, who does that? Who abandons their spouse for the sake of a truck? Yet, despite that heartbreaking story, I was determined to trade in my pathetic state for one of empowerment. I resolved never again to grant anyone or anything the power to break me—be it externally or internally.
Back then, I had no inkling that I would rise from a morning spent with carpet fibers imprinted on my cheeks to become a published author, a sought-after speaker gracing stages, a creator of online courses, a business owner, and a mentor to other women of unwavering determination.
I discovered that with a mindset geared towards greatness, most of all with God on my side, anything—and I mean anything—is possible. Let me remind you that I was the woman left with only a few pennies and a promise, an empty bank account and no marketable skills.
Today the story looks much different and that’s one of the reasons I’m here sending emails, newsletters, hosting conferences, creating masterclasses and more. I have a passion to see lives transformed just like mine did and I truly believe that every woman can be powerful with clear vision, God’s divine grace and coaching! We are champions!