Member since June 2024
I am a woman who has conquered many challenges. My life experiences include addiction of a loved one, domestic violence, single mom-hood, blending a family, and parenting children with ADHD, all while climbing the professional ladder.
I started trying to tell my story through standup comedy. Sarcasm and honesty have always been embraced in my family, and I’ve learned these skills are uniquely suited to making others laugh. I formed a Women’s Comedy Open Mic in my town, which has allowed me to help encourage the growth of others. I am currently working on my 1st book, the story of how my life went upside down when I learned about my 1st husband’s addiction and the people who helped me come back stronger. As a speaker I am exploring new ways to share my story to remind others that they aren’t alone, and inspire them to live their dreams.
Overcoming obstacles, Underdog stories, Self-care and Self-help…anything that gives a person permission to be unashamedly themselves!
It was the little moments in my life that made me realize I had to start sharing my life’s story. My oldest biological son was 9 years old when I learned what it would mean for him. We’d been living with his stepfather and 2 bonus brothers for almost 2 years when he said, ‘Mom, there used to be a lot going on in our life, but now it’s kind of chill.” I wasn’t sure exactly what he meant. That day alone I’d had a therapy appointment and a waxing, his stepdad had taken him and his little brother to Taekwondo, and we were currently on the way home from a 2.5 hour educational testing appointment. It had not been a chill day.
“What do you mean bud?” I asked. He struggled trying to explain himself…he used words like, “before” and “a while ago.” I finally asked if he was referring to when he was little. He said yes. I asked him if he was referring to when we lost his dad. He got quiet, and said yes. He remembered that we had gone through a time when we lost a lot, but that now there wasn’t much we could lose. We were in a house that we weren’t moving out of, and things were “chill.” I didn’t spoil his calm and let him on the secret that we could lose everything again. We didn’t need both of us worried about that. I took a deep breath and pondered how to respond.
When I pulled into the garage I told him it’s ok to talk about the time, “when we lost daddy.” He hesitated, and told me that he doesn’t like to talk about it with other people because other people haven’t gone through it. He told me he was worried that other people would laugh at him. I told him that if he did talk about it to people he would be surprised – a lot of people in the world have lost one or both parents. I also told him that NO ONE would laugh at him. I also prayed silently that no one would ever laugh at my son for letting them into the must vulnerable parts of his childhood.
He was quiet, which for my kids is not common. I looked at my purse and saw the book I was reading, my manifestation journal, and the notebook I’d started writing in. I was starting to find my own way at that time, and I had recently decided I was going to commit to writing a book. I asked my son if he noticed that I’d been walking around with books and journals lately, knowing that he’s way more observant than he lets on. Of course he had noticed. I explained to him why. I told him that I wanted to tell the world our story.
He thought for a minute, and said, “Mom, I think that’s a great idea. I think the world needs to know our story.” I told him I was proud of us. His little brother and I had been through so much and been very blessed with how we persevered and the new family we have. He agreed and gave me a big hug through the backseat. He smiled, got out of the car, opened my car door.
In that moment, and for days after a wave of relief came over me, and I made myself write this down. I’d been so worried about what my oldest son would think if I started sharing our lives with the world. Would I embarrass him? Would I put him in danger telling this story? Here he was, worried the same thing – at 9. But, when he saw me being brave, it was ok. He was more than ok. He was proud of it. Our past wasn’t as scary anymore, because I was going to talk about it.
Many paths I have walked made me feel isolated because they were stories we don’t tell. Once I started talking about them, I realized how many people would come up to me to share something similar that they didn’t typically talk about. I realized that in sharing my stories of loss, love, and rebirth I can help others connect and flourish.
I presented this as a part of the Vulnerable Narratives Project. The talk explores the concept of the word reflection, and how it can be used to reference what appears in a mirror or a deep thought about a topic. In discussing the mirror, I explore different versions of myself as I worked through my first marriage and healing from the trauma and divorce that it ended in. I then ask the audience to pivot with me to the second meaning of reflection: and explore the emotions that were under the pictures, which was largely anger and loneliness for myself. I discuss forgiveness and acceptance of all emotions as a part of healing and encourage the audience to find ways they can do the same.
It was the little moments in my life that made me realize I had to start sharing my life’s story. My oldest biological son was 9 years old when I learned what it would mean for him. We’d been living with his stepfather and 2 bonus brothers for almost 2 years when he said, ‘Mom, there used to be a lot going on in our life, but now it’s kind of chill.” I wasn’t sure exactly what he meant. That day alone I’d had a therapy appointment and a waxing, his stepdad had taken him and his little brother to Taekwondo, and we were currently on the way home from a 2.5 hour educational testing appointment. It had not been a chill day.
“What do you mean bud?” I asked. He struggled trying to explain himself…he used words like, “before” and “a while ago.” I finally asked if he was referring to when he was little. He said yes. I asked him if he was referring to when we lost his dad. He got quiet, and said yes. He remembered that we had gone through a time when we lost a lot, but that now there wasn’t much we could lose. We were in a house that we weren’t moving out of, and things were “chill.” I didn’t spoil his calm and let him on the secret that we could lose everything again. We didn’t need both of us worried about that. I took a deep breath and pondered how to respond.
When I pulled into the garage I told him it’s ok to talk about the time, “when we lost daddy.” He hesitated, and told me that he doesn’t like to talk about it with other people because other people haven’t gone through it. He told me he was worried that other people would laugh at him. I told him that if he did talk about it to people he would be surprised – a lot of people in the world have lost one or both parents. I also told him that NO ONE would laugh at him. I also prayed silently that no one would ever laugh at my son for letting them into the must vulnerable parts of his childhood.
He was quiet, which for my kids is not common. I looked at my purse and saw the book I was reading, my manifestation journal, and the notebook I’d started writing in. I was starting to find my own way at that time, and I had recently decided I was going to commit to writing a book. I asked my son if he noticed that I’d been walking around with books and journals lately, knowing that he’s way more observant than he lets on. Of course he had noticed. I explained to him why. I told him that I wanted to tell the world our story.
He thought for a minute, and said, “Mom, I think that’s a great idea. I think the world needs to know our story.” I told him I was proud of us. His little brother and I had been through so much and been very blessed with how we persevered and the new family we have. He agreed and gave me a big hug through the backseat. He smiled, got out of the car, opened my car door.
In that moment, and for days after a wave of relief came over me, and I made myself write this down. I’d been so worried about what my oldest son would think if I started sharing our lives with the world. Would I embarrass him? Would I put him in danger telling this story? Here he was, worried the same thing – at 9. But, when he saw me being brave, it was ok. He was more than ok. He was proud of it. Our past wasn’t as scary anymore, because I was going to talk about it.
Many paths I have walked made me feel isolated because they were stories we don’t tell. Once I started talking about them, I realized how many people would come up to me to share something similar that they didn’t typically talk about. I realized that in sharing my stories of loss, love, and rebirth I can help others connect and flourish.
I presented this as a part of the Vulnerable Narratives Project. The talk explores the concept of the word reflection, and how it can be used to reference what appears in a mirror or a deep thought about a topic. In discussing the mirror, I explore different versions of myself as I worked through my first marriage and healing from the trauma and divorce that it ended in. I then ask the audience to pivot with me to the second meaning of reflection: and explore the emotions that were under the pictures, which was largely anger and loneliness for myself. I discuss forgiveness and acceptance of all emotions as a part of healing and encourage the audience to find ways they can do the same.
