Once upon a time, I was a happily married nursing student slash mother of three, documenting my schooling endeavors with a sense of humor. Life changed in three seconds. Now, I'm learning how to pick up the pieces, while managing grief and raising babies.
Follow me on Social Media:
It’s easy to preach about living in the moment when we’re numbing out or avoiding reality.
When we create false moments through parties, drinking, shopping, drugs, food, gossip, social media, etc. In order to avoid our feelings about our actual reality, it’s so very easy to tell ourself that we live in the moment.
I was numb for a very long time. So numb that I had to seek outside sources of pleasure for myself in order to remind myself that I even had feelings at all. I was not totally dead inside yet, but my soul definitely slipped in and out of a coma-like state for a while.
Pain and trauma do that to a human. Our bodies are hard wired to shut it all down and encase the tender parts of us with iron clad armor.
*Note: before you tell yourself that you haven’t experienced pain or trauma, I challenge you to look honestly at your life. And the truth of it. It may not have been a tragedy that made headlines, but most trauma is quieter than that. It’s quieter than the word itself. So quiet that we tell ourselves it was nothing, dismissing our tender feelings and opting to suit up with the armor instead.
The thing no one could ever truly convey about healing, because you have to live it to know it, is that it gets ugly. The mind and body will literally battle the soul, clinging to the armor that protected the whole of the three so well, for so long.
Living in the moment, truly living in the moment, is actually brutal when you are recovering from something. Peeling off the armor, then removing the distractions that numb us is beyond uncomfortable. It is painful. The truth of our trauma is painful and forcing ourselves to feel it, is counter intuitive to our human nature to survive.
It takes patience and bravery to let the soul take over the mind and body like this… because the soul knows best; it also takes a type of self love that most of us are not nearly as used to giving ourselves as we should be.. (I’m sorry for that… because we all deserve to love ourself.)
If we can get here, if we can force our ourselves to peel away the armor, remove the distractions, look at the truth and feel it for as painful as it is, it will truly suck.
It will truly suck.
This process brings us to a breaking point, and just when we think we will break, we choose something better than the numbing distractions of the past. We call out to Him… and feel the relief.
There’s relief on the other side of that pain. There’s pain on the other side of that numbness. There’s bravery in venturing past those hurdles…. And there’s whole wide life to be lived on the other side of it all.
Remember, life is going to hit you hard with a lot of crappy stuff. Might as well live anyways.
Before they said the heat was too much, too bright, too wild.
Back when it roared and crackled and glowed from my amber eyes…
Before, one by one, they came with their buckets, filled with water… reducing that fire to the smoky embers of this adulthood that I now live.
Forgive my shortcomings, dear daughter.
When you were first born, I proudly announced:
“She’s mischievous and curious! There’s a twinkle in her eye!”
When you were a toddler, I proudly gloated:
“She marches to the beat of her own drum! She’s a real spitfire!”
When you were five, I caught you lost deep in thought and asked “What are you thinking about?”
Looking at me, our pupils locked in, you said, “There are kingdoms in my mind.”
I was floored.
I was scared.
Later that year, you graduated Kindergarten and danced down the aisle with your diploma.
“She’s a spicy one.” I posted on Facebook.
Then the years began to stack up on us. Both of us, daughter.
And naturally, your fire grew.
And you came home with stories…
Attempts made to dim your flame,
Requests that you just turn down the roar of it to a meer smolder.
And I grew more afraid of this attention.
“Maybe you can just contain it, daughter?”
“Maybe you just glow less while you’re in school?”
“Sit up straight. No elbows on the table.”
“Tell a teacher.”
“Stay out others’ business.”
“Don’t be a hero.”
“Fix your hair.”
And soon, I was the person in your life carrying not one, but two buckets of water. Frantic. Ready to extinguish the twinkling flame that I so proudly recognized the day you were born.
Forgive me, my girl. There is something in you that I could not handle myself.
And so I got scared.
Maya Angelou says. “When you know better, you do better.”
I know now, while you may carry a similar flame as I once did, you are more fierce than I ever was or ever will be.
And God chose you to handle this bright, wild power. And God chose me to support you through your discovery of it.
Not to protect you from it.
And certainly not to extinguish it.
(Or ask you just to glow on Saturdays)
Some parents helicopter their children externally. They follow them on the playground. They obsessively check their temperature. They safety proof every nook of their home.
We’ve been different. Haven’t we?
The two introverts. The empaths. The intuitive feelers with the sassy mouths and this damn refusal to accept anything but the best in people.
How do you safety proof a mind?
…You know better, you do better,
and I am here to say:
There is nothing wrong with wanting to own every atom of the power that you possess, and there’s nothing g wrong with asking the same of others, Queen Lydia. I accept all of the kingdoms in your mind. No more helicopter. No more dimming the glow. No more fear.
Last year, I told God: I’m letting go, so I can fly.
Today, I say the same to Him:
God, I’m letting go, so she can fly 🦅
I love you, my mischievous, curious, spitfire, twinkling, roaring, girl.
It’s a hard truth that a percentage of us know all too well.
We don’t live forever.
In fact, some don’t make it to parenthood, while others are lost far too soon while their children are still young. In my case, my late husband, Scott, passed away suddenly in a car accident at the age of 37. Our children were 2, 4, and 7 at the time.
None of us saw it coming.
Over the years, I’ve considered what’s been helpful for our three kids and what I wish he and I would’ve known.
Parents, you will not live forever, and if you die young, there are things your children will need. Again, its a hard truth, and I don’t want to be the one to talk about it… but it needs to be out there in a Google search somewhere for you to find; Maybe you’ve had a health scare recently, or you’ve been blindsided with the loss of someone close; and it’s got you thinking about mortality…maybe you’re just a preparer (like I am now), whatever brings you here…
Here are some suggestions from a widow who’s lived it…
1. Get Life Insurance: Maybe you think it’s just for people with money. Maybe you’d prefer to spend the money on the here and now. Been there. But life insurance is the greatest way to ensure your children and spouse are cared for in your absence. Scott and I did not have it for most of our marriage, then five days before he was killed, he told me that he took out a policy. I was quite immature back then and refused the conversation when he brought it up. He said: I know it’s uncomfortable, but if something happens, you and the kids will be ok. Sell the house and take care of the finances. (So take Scott’s advisement: get the life insurance and TALK about these things no matter the discomfort they give) … which leads me to number two…
2. Start a Will: Again, some may think that this is something for people with money, right? Nah.
Take for instance:
Do you own a home? Ok. Who’s going to get that? I am only familiar with my home state of Michigan, so check your local laws, but in Michigan, without a will and if there’s not another name on the house, it will go into probate, which means the state basically takes management of the property until it’s decided that there’s a competent executor of the deceased estate. Believe me, as a widow and recovering realtor, this is not a fun process; And considering that your loved ones will be grieving, they may not have the energy to pursue a home in probate… losing the asset all together. This is only one example of why.
Things just happen.
Start a will.
3. Write a love letter. Write it now, add to it later if you need to. Write multiple over time if you wish, but one thing I cannot tell you enough:
Write a letter to your children.
Tell them what makes them special. Why they make you smile. How you felt upon first seeing them, and what you hope for them. Give them all the life advice that comes to you. As my children grow into their formative years, this is a huge desire of there’s. I cannot tell you how many of their tears I’ve dried over the absence of his fatherly advice. Please do so.
3b. Record your voice. Hey… while feeling the ink on paper and seeing your handwriting and the labor of love is it’s own experience for your children, if writing is not your thing, try sound recording your words. We only have a few voicemails of Scott’s and a few videos, but they’re precious. Could you imagine if he’d recorded himself talking to the kids and his advice and the other items above? Invaluable.
4. Get in the photos. We see blogs about this all of the time. Moms not in photos because they’re the ones taking them. Dads have this issue too. When you die, all the photos taken up to the point are it. The desire for “more” never ends for your loved ones, so do it. Cooking dinner, cheering in the living room at Sunday night of football, ordinary stuff. Don’t be shy. Take the pictures and ask your spouse to take them too.
5. One HUGE way my children feel connected to their father is through music. Make some playlists. It’s so simple, but for my son Jaxson, who has no true memories of his dad, he LOVES listening to his dad’s favorite bands and artists and shares a lot of similar interests.
6. Work/Life balance. You may not want to hear this. You may notice it already, as your kidsgrow… that they’re only young once and us missing things, overworking ourselves or not being present when we are home… means we are not creating the memories that they cling to when we’re gone. Working hard is a great example, but being there to create the memory is what it’s all for. I’m not suggesting you quit your job. I’m only saying: Make the time.
And while you’re at it, take a picture and record it in your letter 🙂
You are, after all, leaving a legacy in them. 🌱
Remember, life is hard whether we live it or not, might as well live.
Maybe you’ve kept so focused on being “nice”, understanding, polite…
Maybe you’ve let one too many wolves tell you they’re sheep.
Maybe some times you just didn’t know how to say “no” or “That doesn’t work for me.”
Maybe for years you’ve suppressed the darkest parts of yourself for fear of the capabilities. You’ve kept your boundaries written in erasable ink and far too many carry an eraser.
Jordan Peterson, a modern philosopher and Toronto professor, says that not having a dark side isn’t what makes you virtuous. It makes you just another thing to take care of. What gives us virtue is having a dark side and knowing how and when to use it.
There’s sheep, a vulnerable thing to take care of. There’s the wolf, a dark and predatory thing with bad intent. Then there’s the shepherd, who takes the care to tend to the sheep and will also shoot the wolf dead if needed.
There’s nothing wrong with your anger, your ‘no bullshit’ meter, your fire. They’re our internal alarm system telling us when a boundary has been crossed or needs to be readjusted. (If we’ve been violated or betrayed a lot in life, our alarm system will be much more sensitive, but that’s a different post for a different day.)
Say “that doesn’t work for me”
And watch who stays.
Watch who says you’ve changed and phases out of your life…
Chances are they were either sheep, preferring other sheep to do sheep shit with or … they were wolves, looking for an easy kill.
Judgmental people exist. It’s part of life, and many of us live in fear of the judgment of others.
However, it’s very rare, as an adult, that we experience judgment in a direct fashion. It usually comes as an undercutting comment or a question disguised as innocent curiosity or as encouragement… but intuition hints at contempt.
Widows know this hint well.
“Do you ever feel guilty for dating? “
“What do your kids think of the new baby?”
“You don’t have to feel guilty about falling in love again.”
As a widow personally speaking, I’ll just go ahead and take the time to answer this now.
I don’t feel guilty.
If I felt guilty, I probably shouldn’t be dating… How could I possibly have a healthy relationship with Mike if every time we did something that mattered, I felt guilty about it?
Answer: I couldn’t.
When we feel guilt, it is either warranted or not.
Sometimes, we feel guilt because we just should… Because we did something wrong or are doing something wrong or because we’re about to do something wrong.
Other times, we feel guilt that’s unwarranted for no reason at all. And when this is the case, we still shouldn’t be doing the thing we’re about to do… Why? Because we will likely sabotage it for ourselves because we feel undeserving.
When we feel guilty for no reason at all that’s an indication that there’s something internal that we need to explore. There’s healing to work through.
So do I feel guilty for meeting and falling in love with Mike and Myles? For getting the opportunity to carry and give birth to another beautiful baby?
No. I don’t.
That series of questions insinuates that my children and I don’t deserve the experience of loving and being loved by new people. Further, it also stems from an archaic notion that the grief we were tossed into is over once new love is introduced. I reject both of these ideals. One because it’s ridiculous to think that we don’t deserve love because we’ve experienced loss. Love is a blessing, and we will take all the blessings that we can get.
Guess what? I’m still in it here. I’m still working through missing Scott every day, especially the holidays. I’m still sad that I can’t share all of the good things that have happened for us with him. I can’t introduce him to Mike, Myles, or Lukas. He won’t see Sophie progress in cheerleading, clap for Lydia at her first home run, or seeing Jax on the ice as a goalie.
I still wipe their tears after a cemetery visit. I still answer hard questions and hold my daughter in her bed for as long as it takes because she just read her baby book and found a letter that I wrote to her back then, and she can’t understand why there’s not a letter in there from her dad.
“Where’s Dad’s letter?” She asks disappointed, near frantic, “everything’s in your hand writing, Mom.”
So I’m the person who tucks her in from something like that, heads upstairs and cries; because when I wrote that letter 12 years ago, there was so much love in my heart. And hope… so much hope for my infant daughter… that she would read it some day, as a teenager and know how loved she was… but here the time came, and instead all she could think was: where’s Daddy?
Never in my nightmares, did I ever think when pouring my heart into that beautiful letter, that it, along with so many other things, would be tainted…
So, yes, yes we will take some new, fresh, and pure love.
These are the types of things that I manage and help three children manage all of the time. The only difference now?
I have help.
We have a wonderful person who lives with us, loves us, supports us through living to the fullest and healthiest and supports us through our evolving grief.
Do I feel guilty for that?
No. And no person should feel guilty for living despite heartache and strife, widowed or not.
I felt guilt when I wasn’t able to get to my husband the minute I knew he was not safe.
I felt guilt I wasn’t able to bring him justice.
I felt guilt that I gave him so much shit when he was alive.
I felt guilt for not doing my part to make myself happy in our marriage, losing myself in a relationship, and putting the pressure on him to make “us” happy. Codependency at its finest.
I felt guilt for loathing traditions like balloon releases and leaving an empty chair at holidays.
I felt guilt that I relied on my kids too much, too early.
I felt guilty for living. Often.
I felt guilt when it was the wrong guy. Definitely.
But not any more and never….
Have I, for once, ever felt guilt for loving Mike.
The other day, we visited the cemetery so the kids could take time to talk to Scott about all that’s happened in their life. Jaxson brought his school stuff to show. The girls talked about the new baby.
Afterwards, there were tears (as there usually is), but the kids were conflicted.
“Mom, I miss Daddy but that means we wish away Mike, Myles, and Luke.” One cried (and another child later expressed similar feelings.)
They feel guilty. I thought. And for a split second, a combination of my empathy, and my own self doubt gave me the residuals of that guilt. I almost took it on.
Was I wrong? Did I curse them with internal conflict by moving forward and asking for more from life?
I quickly reminded myself that they’ve been given a gift. Forever feeling the loss of their father and cursed with grief, they’ve been given the opportunity to love and be loved. Again, here was another situation they needed my guidance on.
“You can feel both,” I said, “You don’t have to choose between hurting and missing Daddy and loving and enjoying our life now. You were made strong enough to handle both.”
And in order to coach my children on this, I have to believe it and live it out myself.
And I do. No guilt here. Just love. Because God made us strong enough to handle it all.
To you: Life is complicated, unpredictable, and really really hard anyway… might as well do what we want and live it. Big love, Meg
1. Life is not meant to be taken seriously. Things are way simpler than we make them. It’s not life that makes it difficult, it’s our minds that complicate everything.
2. If you love someone, show them.
3. Take people for what they say. If they break their word, take them for their actions. Do not read into the meaning of anything more. If someone says they want to do something for you, believe it. If they act unloving, believe that too. Be in the moment. When it comes to predicting someone else, there’s no such thing as a step ahead.
4. Fixating on the past is one of the worst things that we can do for our spirit.
5. Figure it out. No one will solve our problems for us. It is up to us to problem solve.
6. Guard your time like you guard your life.
7. Everyone has something to contribute.
8. There’s no greater honor on earth than being a parent.
9. If someone wants you in their life, it will be clear. Priorities show.
10. Being good at something is the least of our worries. It’s enjoying the thing that matters most.
I recorded this 2 years ago before heading into a writer’s conference. It makes me cringe 😬
It also serves as a reminder to how much I’ve grown, how many times I get back up after failing, and how much life can change (for the bad and good)…
Don’t mind me while I indulge and reflect, take what works for you and leave the rest 🙂
2019 was truly the worst year of my life.
Yes, we had devastation in 2016 when I’d lose my husband to a car accident on his way home from work, all while he and I talked on the phone. I would spend 2017 and 2018 trying to rebuild, thinking I was close, but later learning that it was an illusion.
Once the trial came in 2019, nothing could’ve prepared me for what I would experience. A spiritual pain so real that it manifested itself physically in an instant. Agony. Right there in the court room, feeling every nerve in my body scream in pain and willing myself not to pass out.
Still, playing “tough guy”, after it was all over, I would insist that I was fine.
I was not fine.
I went on a war path.
I bleached all color from of my hair. (Screaming inside)
I jumped into a relationship with someone who ended up being not right for me and not what I stand for. (Screaming inside again.)
I remodeled my house, allowing someone to demolish walls in my basement and wreak complete havoc on my home.
I heavily drank, telling myself it was ok because it was only wine. My bills were paid. My kids were healthy. I’ve been through a lot and if I didn’t deserve to drink, who did? But that would get to be too much also.
I grew obsessed with becoming financially successful in real estate. A career that I once chose, as a single mom, in order to work my own schedule for my kids.. started to completely consume me. I was working 14 hour days showing houses, writing offers, driving everywhere, recording videos, sending marketing material. Losing sleep over transactions.
While I’d forgiven Daniel Tobey (yes, I have. Another blog for another day), I could not get over the callous ways of his defense team. I wanted them to see my face on a billboard and know that they didn’t “get to me”. My anger fueled my ambition, which wouldn’t be bad if it weren’t fueling me in the wrong direction.
And I have to admit that I still hope they remember Scott’s name forever. I hope they never forget my face in that courtroom, and some day, when my daughter, Sophia, who’s life’s mission is to become a judge, becomes one, I hope these attorneys have to stand before her, and oh, I hope she gives them Hell.
I digress though.
It all came crashing down in September 2019. After a series of very difficult events, I had something stop the record completely. Screech. Yet again.
Every belief that I’d ever had was shook. I think it’s what they call: a paradigm shift.
I was now upside down from my upside down, and it was only then that I realized I wasn’t healing as deeply as I needed to be.
I once wrote on my blog about building a beautiful castle (The Lonely Castle) around the hole in the land that was my heart; I didn’t realize that while building a castle is wonderful, admirable, and eventually necessary, some times we need to sink our fists, elbow deep into the soil and find our way to the other side of the earth, of our world that’s been flipped.
And while I won’t waiver from the need for mindset work, healing is not always as easy as a workout routine and positive affirmations. At some point, we have to get our hands dirty. Look at ourselves with honesty and ask what really needs to be done. Ask ourselves the questions we’ve been scared to say aloud.
One thing that I’ve realized is that when we finally decide to get honest with ourselves, God will literally move mountains to help. Two years ago, I was recording this video still very lost, trying to “come back”, but I still had so much dirty, gritty healing to do. So many questions I still needed to answer to myself. I wouldn’t know the rewards that were to come as a result of it all.
▪️2 years after this video (a turning in my healing journey),
▪️Almost 3 years after the trial,
▪️5 years after the tragic loss of Scott,
I am closer to my children, in a loving, healthy relationship to Mike, someone who continually surprises me with his depth of character; a step mom to Myles, and expecting a baby within weeks. 🤰
My anxiety and depression is balanced out. I’m not medicating. I respond instead of react. I am in the moment instead of somewhere else.
( And my hair is better too 🙂)
It’s amazing how life can change for the good just as fast as it does for the bad.
And while I fought God so hard on this for the last few years, I am ready to say that I am letting go of real estate. It doesn’t serve me. It wasn’t meant for me. I used it to fuel an unhealthy side of my heart, and it’s time to move on.
Life will have us white knuckle gripping the edge of a cliff. Sometimes it is for a moment. Sometimes it is for years. Just dangling and THINKING of ways we can get over this ledge. For me, my mind was determined to utilize real estate (and other things) to boost me up over it. God wants us to stop thinking and start praying. When we pray to God and are open to His answer, we realize that there’s no need to hold on to that cliff. Because maybe our feet are able to touch the ground the whole time? Or.. maybe we can fly?
So that’s why I am letting go 🦅
Thank you for reading this far!
Some of you have followed and supported me before our life became a local headline. Some of you right around that time. Some of you just started. And I am just ever so grateful for each of you. ❤️
I hope you all have lovely day, and if you feel compelled to, follow my blog and support me on social media (Click here for either)
5 Things that I’ve Learned in the 5 Years Since You’ve Been Gone…
1. Anger gives us energy. It will be your greatest fuel in the times you need it. It serves a purpose, but if we allow it to fuel us for too long, it will turn into other things. Like bitterness. Anger is good. Bitter is not. And only your spirit knows when it’s time to let go.
2. Justice is an illusion in this world. It is not a power that the flawed human being can carry out. And while we will never witness true justice here on earth, there is one force that can deliver it. I have made peace with this and fully trust God to know something that I don’t and to deliver what He sees fit.
3. Forgiveness is a letting go of control of outcome and of other people’s choices. That’s all I know for sure about that.
4. People will use others’ tragedies for a lot of things… clout, agenda, salicious gossip. One thing I’ve seen the most of though is distraction; we, as people, become caught up in others’ tragedies or problems to distract us from dealing with our own life’s tragedies, problems, and issues. Healing ourselves should always be the goal – before we could ever hope to help others.
5. Loneliness is the biggest threat to the soul. When we are lonely, our souls attract dark, dingy energies. I.e. We attract bad people. Ironically enough, the only cure to loneliness is being alone. Learning to enjoy our own company and getting to know ourselves is the only way to defeat this extreme danger to our soul.
**It should be noted that I could never have come to these conclusions had I not had the experience of being married to Scott. I could not love again without having loved and been loved by him. I could not enjoy life the way that I do now had he not lived the way that he did. The guilt I once felt for this has now turned into immense gratitude. And I write about this in my next blog, but while I have learned so much since this loss, I also learned a lot while he was here too.
If you feel so compelled to share, please do. What’s mine is yours. Take what works and leave the rest.
I tried hiding it in photos, but it’d show up here and there.
If you asked me then, I would tell you that I wasn’t a smoker.
I’d say it was only when I drank.
I’d say it was only because I worked in the service industry.
I’d point out that at least I didn’t smoke while I was pregnant.
At least it was not in front of the kids.
I’m probably going to die from cancer anyways.
“I like smoking. I enjoy it.”
“I can quit any time.”
And I sort of did quit after my son was born in 2014, but if I drank, one would soon find me outside, socializing the smoker’s circle.
Then, tragedy hit my life in a way that no one could’ve foreseen. It still takes my breath away to stop and think about it. Within hours, I had a Marlboro Light in between my fingers. I didn’t even try to hide it. Parents. Kids. Whatever. No disappointment or disdain from the outside could ever come close to the anguish I felt. I hurt so deeply that I yearned to be in control of that pain.
Smoking was a symptom of this mindset.
It was a killing of myself with the slow death of tobacco. The bottom fell out of my life, I had been repeatedly forced into silence over it, and I couldn’t get angry. I subconsciously hoped that the tobacco smoke could reach through the rabbit hole, prod my anger, and awaken the rage I needed to speak on my behalf. In time, it mellowed and evolved to where nicotine just became part of my daily routine. For three years, cigarettes were alongside my multivitamin and my morning coffee.
On August 30, 2021, I will be two years cigarette free. Cold turkey.
Addiction is insidious. And I’ve learned so much about its nature and myself from quitting.
What I’ve learned is that when we are addicted to something, quitting has to be our complete priority. I didn’t do anything for the first two weeks that I decided to quit (and I mean: not a thing) because I had to be hyper focused on managing my reactions and my discomfort.
I started to feel real emotions that I hadn’t felt since I was a teenager, likely because I wasn’t smoking back then. These emotions needed to be cared for in other ways. Had quitting not been my top priority, had I been busy, I would’ve got distracted and fell back into the old habits, using one of my many ways to justify it. (My favorite one being: So what if I smoke? I’m a good person. — A phrase that I loathe.)
I know that this whole thing may seem like a self serving pat on the back, and yeah, I suppose I do want to give myself a shout outdoor waking up from denial and taking the time and energy to do this.
But I also write this to throw myself to the wolves. Feeling very exposed and nervous in revealing such an ugly part of me. But it’s there… and I want to help you if you feel the ugly parts of you have too much control.
August 30, 2019 to present day have not been a walk in the park. Aside from 2020, there were several outside events that stopped me in my tracks; like you, the stresses that I’ve been met with in my life are way more than what’s posted on social media. Nearly immediately after I decided to quit smoking, I was met with an extreme, life changing occurrence. A stress that I never imagined for myself. And in the weak and quiet moments of the evening, while I was alone, I could hear the devil on my shoulder whisper, “You deserve a smoke. Just one pack to keep on the fridge like Grandma did.”
I was a lie though.
I didn’t deserve to kill myself slowly. None of us do. We deserve vitality. We deserve clean lungs and proof to ourself that our minds are stronger than the demons rooting for us to lead with reckless ugliness.
Most importantly, we deserve to feel our emotions. Not to numb or distract ourself. We deserve to process feelings and memories, and personally, two years out, I can say I’ve never looked back.
Whatever you are struggling with right now (and I know there’s something because there always is in life), please know that to know me, is to have me in your corner. You got this.
➡️ Steven Spielberg was 2 grades behind his peers. Some of his administrators called him lazy.
➡️ Pulitzer Prize-winning author and poet, Phillip Schultz, did not learn to read until he was 11 years old.
➡️ John Irving, author of Cider House Rules, which was later adapted into a movie, was dyslexic and in the remedial spelling group.
➡️ Science journalist, Garrett Cook, a Pulitzer Prize winner, cannot write by hand nor read aloud.
➡️ Ben Carson, a neurosurgeon, presidential candidate, and U. S. Secretary of Housing and Urban development was considered the “dumbest” kid in his 5th grade class.
➡️ Helen Taussig, a leading pediatric cardiologist of the 21st century, was considered “mentally retarded” by some of her teachers.
➡️ Channing Tatum was in special education.
➡️ Diane Swonk, an economic advisor on the Federal Reserve board, does not know left from right, couldn’t memorize her times tables, add a column of numbers, or read a speech.
➡️ Charles Schwabb the CEO of the the largest brokerage firm in the U. S. flunked English twice and was dyslexic.
➡️ Shark Tank’s Barbara Corcoran graduated high school with a D average.
➡️ Billionaire Richard Branson was called stupid and lazy all of his life.
➡️ Olympic swimmer, Michael Phelps, lives with ADHD and was told he’d never be successful.
➡️ Vince Vaughn had learning disabilities throughout school and was in special education classes.
➡️ Screenwriter, inventor, professor, and one of Time Magazines 100 Most Influential people, Temple Grandin, has autism.
➡️ Robert Toth, a Smithsonian artist, failed 4th grade three times and didn’t learn to read until he was 12.
➡️ Tommy Hilfiger struggled with reading and writing in school.
➡️ Public motivational speaker and radio host, Les Brown, was called the “dumb twin” and deemed “uneducable” and “mentally retarded”.
➡️ Bram Cohen, founder of groundbreaking data sharing network: BitTorrent, has Asperger’s.
➡️ David Neeleman, founder of JetBlue, has ADD and could not pass standardized testing in school.
➡️ Shark Tank’s Daymond John has dyslexia.
➡️ PGA Champion Golfer, John E. Morgan was bullied throughout his school age for his learning disabilities.
➡️ The CEO of the Cleveland Clinic had learning troubles in school.
➡️ David Goggins, ultra marathon runner and the only member of the U.S. armed forces ever to complete training as a Navy SEAL, Army Ranger and Air Force Tactical Air Controller, could barely read as a teenager.
➡️ The first athlete ever to win perfect 10s in a World Championship, 4 time gold medalist, Greg Louganis, was in special education.
➡️ Steve Jobs was dyslexic and dropped out of college.
What do these facts say to you?
💥 There is no mystery person without issues who’s better than you. The person you think of right now who seems to have it all, does not. 💥 Stop comparing your beginning to someone else’s peak! You have no idea of their battles. 💥Life is not “me versus them”. It is “us vs the struggles” 💥 Do not ever let a single person, group, or system define you. 💥The world is designed to beat you into submission, forcing a resignation from you.
Don’t do it! Fight! ⚔️
You are capable of greatness. You bring value to this world as you are. Right now. Completely perfect.