Over the past two decades, I’ve had the privilege of writing books, delivering keynotes to hundreds of thousands of people, bringing wellness strategies to schools and businesses, and leading international self-empowerment events. To say it’s been a dream come true would be an understatement—from partnerships and publishing deals to sharing stages with world-renowned authors and speakers, I feel immensely blessed that my work has reached people globally.
However, while I’m proud of these and other accomplishments, humility is essential to any success story. As I’ve learned (the hard way), our dreams can quickly turn to dust at any moment. This reality hit me in my mid-40s, at the peak of my career, when I thought I had finally “made it.” I would soon discover that life had other plans.
As I entered midlife, I faced everything from divorce and financial struggles to health issues and recurring depression. I lost three friends to cancer, navigated difficult relationships, battled chronic anxiety, confronted childhood trauma, and worked through my issues related to my father’s suicide. Coupled with a career-crushing pandemic, I found myself in a full-blown identity crisis.
There is a saying in the East: “Fall seven times, stand up eight.” While I find this idea encouraging, sometimes we need others to lift us up when we’re on the ground. At least, that was the case for me. If not for the support of my family, friends, a loving partner, and, strangely enough, a few shamanic healers and medicine women I met along the way (it’s a long story), I’m not sure I would be writing this today. It was a valuable lesson that asking for help is wisdom, not weakness.
However, the real shift happened when I turned 50. At that point, I decided to step outside my comfort zone. Way out. Fear had prevented me from fully restarting my life, and I was done playing it safe. As a result, I not only rediscovered my love for life but also met the love of my life. Soon, I began taking even bigger risks: traveling to places I had never imagined possible, participating in sacred ceremonies to heal wounds from my past, and even legally changing my last name to sever ties with my dark family history (another long story involving shamanic healers and medicine women). More importantly, every experience, especially the painful ones, deepened my compassion for others and my desire to help those struggling in midlife.
If you’re going through your own dark night of the soul, remember that second chances do exist. So don’t give up. Even if you’ve “fallen seven times” (or eight, nine, or even ten), I promise you that the fight is worth it in the end. But if you ever feel stuck or need a hand, know that there’s someone here to help—a friend, a good listener, and a seasoned midlife warrior ready to lift you back on your feet again.
With Love & Respect,
