For many years, I had the American dream. The career, writing for TV and theater. The husband. The home. The daughter (awesome). The life—New York City—which to me is the greatest place in the world. Though there are many other places I love, New York is home.
My writing kept me sane. Whenever life got hard, I could write and find my way through it.
And then life got really hard and I found that writing wasn’t nearly enough to get me through it.
I began talking about it. And the more I spoke about it, the more I found I wasn’t alone. So many women and men are stressed out in their jobs and feeling lost. Or they suddenly are finding themselves the caregivers for both parents and children. They’ve lost confidence that the path they are on is the right path.
My life imploded. Everything fell away. The career (thank you lousy economy), the marriage, the home, even the daughter moved 3000 miles away. All that was left of my old life were me and my two dogs.
But it was—without a doubt—the best thing that ever happened to me.
The obstacles on the path, are the path.
I learned more about life in that period of 18 months of loss and grief than I probably had in all the previous years of my entire life. I learned that I wasn’t alone.
I found my own voice and I found that in sharing my story, others feel safe to share their stories.
I give keynotes, lead workshops, and do individual coaching to help others find their own voices through speaking and writing.