Hello

For most of my youth, I never saw myself as beautiful, yet I found beauty in others. I struggled to get good grades, but education became my way of proving my worth. I believed that success came from pure determination and that education would be my saving grace, especially when I made bad decisions.

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I married young, completed my education, and immediately began my career. I had two children – a perfect pair, a girl and then a boy. The everyday responsibilities of my career brought me joy, and I felt that I was on the right path. At my 20th high school reunion, someone asked me, "How do you keep your marriage going?" I replied, "Taking it one day at a time." I was in love, until the day I discovered I was not.

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Career opportunities and financial obligations led me to accept a position in another city, far from my family. Divorce soon followed. By this time, my daughter had become independent, but my son, at 12, was still struggling to find his own identity. The challenges of the divorce affected him deeply, and my absence from his daily life was a significant factor in his struggles. He suffered from depression and anxiety, as did my daughter. While my daughter found her way through it and has become incredibly resilient, my son tragically ended his life at the age of 17. There is no greater devastation than being a parent who cannot help their child, and feeling powerless in the face of such a loss.

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This happened three years before I was eligible to retire, and three months before the birth of my grandson. The joy I once found in my work, and in life itself, dissipated. My sense of obligation to my team at work was the only thing that kept me going from day to day. But it was my love for my daughter that gave me the strength to focus on the tiny speck of light at the end of a very dark tunnel. When I finally became eligible to retire, I thought that would be my chance to "properly mourn my son." Instead, it gave me more time to sink into darkness, confusion, and, eventually, depression. Days and weeks would pass where I struggled to find the energy to keep moving forward.

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To once again find meaning and joy in my life, I knew I had to change something. I had to find my purpose again. I knew I wanted to serve others, but first, I had to learn how to serve myself and adjust to my new reality. It was through fate, or perhaps chance, that I spoke with Jen Hardy, an Empowerment Coach, and attended her Women's Empowerment Sessions. These sessions helped me loosen the grip of painful thoughts and beliefs that no longer served me. I chose to learn more and, eventually, became a certified Neuro-Linguistic Programming and Quantum Time Therapy Practitioner.

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The power of language had always fascinated me. With a Bachelor's and Master's in Communication Studies, I understood the immense influence words have on shaping our identities and actions. Throughout my career, coaching, mentoring, and leadership required building relationships and establishing trust through effective communication. Yet, I realized that what we often fail to learn is how to communicate with ourselves..

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This is where the true magic lies, in our inner communication. Our thoughts and feelings fuel the conversations we have in our minds, shaping the decisions we make and the actions we take. Understanding the origin of our thoughts and realizing our power to choose allows us to overcome the self-imposed limitations that hold us back. While dispelling my own limiting beliefs has not brought back my son, it has given me a new understanding of how to work through my grief. I can grieve the loss of my son, and I can enjoy moments in life. I can serve others and find peace through purpose in my service. I can, I can, I can.

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What I’ve learned through this journey is that when we learn to communicate effectively with ourselves, we naturally begin to communicate more effectively with others, too.