The Courage to Become | Eva Sheie Kiser
Thanksgiving 2016. Just as my dad was about to say grace before Thanksgiving dinner, my sister’s baby girl Amelia threw her head back and smashed my sister’s lip with her head. My sister left the table with a fat, bloody lip. Later she told me she was really sad because she felt so alone in that moment knowing that neither I or our younger brother Rob would ever understand what it was like to have children.
My sister Maia, Amelia (the head-butter), me, and our mom Mary after Thanksgiving in 2016. Look closely and you can see Maia’s fat lip.
I was 40 then, flying every other week from Austin to work in Seattle. Having finally landed the best job of my life, my husband and I were traveling whenever and doing pretty much whatever we wanted to do. It probably looked like we had finally “made it.” But it felt really empty.
If it’s ok to have a favorite member of the Trinity, I’d like to admit I am a big fan of the Holy Spirit. In my life I have heard both the still, small voice and the yelling, sign-waving, dancing-banana-on-the-street-corner sign of the Spirit. All I can tell you is that in order to hear that voice, you first have to listen.
Sometimes my life choices were pretty kooky. I like to joke that the Spirit even tricked me a few times, starting in the middle of my senior year of college by calling me to apply to grad school in Texas by reconnecting me with a long-lost teenage music camp crush in Houston. My (I still think this was genius) plan was to get my parents to buy me a plane ticket to Houston to visit Rice University and see if it was an option for graduate school, then I’d meet up with the old flame from camp.
As I plotted and schemed, my heart changed and I found myself really caring about getting into Rice and not so much about the boy. And then somehow I got into Rice, and that was a miracle too because I showed up to audition for the viola program on the wrong date and they weren’t expecting me. The elusive professor Martha Katz just happened to be in her studio with nothing to do at the time I arrived. I played for her that afternoon, and she recommended me to the legendary Karen Ritscher, who accepted me sight unseen on Martha’s word.
I arrived in Houston on the 4th of July in 1998, with $800 in the bank and whatever I could fit in the car. My nine years in Houston were spent first in school, then scraping a living together with gigs, teaching viola lessons, and eventually a part-time job in medical marketing. The rest of my time was devoted to drinking and related activities where drinking was involved. During this time, I strayed a long way from who I was called to be, struggling through many dark experiences and destructive relationships.
I’d feel guilty and drag myself to Lutheran church a few times each year, but didn’t emerge from the drunken fog until I got hired for a gig with the praise band at River Pointe Church in Sugar Land. I would drive away after the gig laughing to myself and judging the people waving their arms during worship. It became a regular gig that I kept for years, and for the first time I was in a place where the Bible was the singular focus, not the traditions, the liturgy, the hymns, the choir, or my family legacy. It was here that my heart was changed and I finally understood that Jesus was calling me back home. He just had to trick me into getting there by paying me to do a regular gig.
I could feel a sea change coming. I felt antsy or nervous like I was waiting for lightning to strike. But I kept saying, I’m listening. Show me where you want me to go, even if it’s crazy.
In the summer of 2006, a very close friend got married in Wisconsin, so I flew up for the wedding. I met the bride’s cousin there, which developed into a long distance relationship. He was a professional musician in Seattle, he promised could get me hooked up with the good gigs if I moved up there, he had the whole family background thing going and pursued me relentlessly.
Eventually I dismantled my life in Houston, got rid of almost everything I owned and packed what was left into my car. He flew down to help me drive, and I sobbed as we left Houston on a stunning and bright Texas morning in February 2007. When we reached El Paso it was snowing sideways and I had come down with a fever and a nasty cold. He and I had never lived in the same place, so I had no idea until that day how he’d treat me when I was sick, and it was not good.
Looking out of a port-a-potty at the Grand Canyon during the move from Houston to Seattle. I look happy in this moment, but I was overwhelmed with grief for the life I left behind me. See how puffy my eyes are? I didn’t even take any photos of the Grand Canyon.
By the time we reached Salt Lake City on the third day, I was wearing headphones inside the car so I wouldn’t have interact with him. Once I got to Seattle, I had to stay at his home for a while and it was just miserable. I needed to find a place to live immediately, and again, a miracle happened. I found a 2-bedroom apartment on Alki Beach with a direct view of the water and picked up the job as the building manager, so my rent was only $650/month. When I tell Seattleites that story today, their jaws always hit the floor. You can’t rent a closet for $650 today.
The view from my Seattle apartment included a miniature Statue of Liberty. I lived about 50 yards from this spot. Here I learned that having a beautiful view or living in a cool neighborhood doesn’t make you happy. My feet were always cold and there were only 36 days of sunshine the first year I lived here.
That relationship fell apart within weeks. I was so flat broke from moving, I didn’t even have anything to sit on in my apartment. I was quite unhappy to find out that the beach was sleepy and quiet unless the weather was nice, and people weren’t generally outgoing or friendly. The “Seattle Chill” is real and doesn’t do any favors for introverts who are prone to seasonal depression. I just wanted to move home to Houston. I was so ashamed and embarrassed by my mistake that I lost my sense of self-worth.
That pull to go to Seattle had been so strong over the previous year that I never questioned it. I ignored every red flag in that bad relationship along the way. I had been so excited to start this new adventure, but instead my entire plan fell apart. I was angry. I was embarrassed. I asked, why did you bring me here, God? It didn’t feel like courage, it felt a lot more like foolishness.
I started practicing viola again and won some orchestra gigs. I worked hard to make friends and connect with people, but it wasn’t easy. I changed day jobs and took a big leap forward in my marketing career.
My favorite place on earth, looking out over Lake Travis near Spicewood.
In July, I went back to Houston to see friends and took a road trip up to Lake Travis with one of my longtime BFF’s Andrea. We rested, read books, hung out in the pool, and it felt good to be home. She made me pick myself up off the floor and forced me to reactivate my match.com account. I determined that my profile was much too interesting and deleted about 80% of it, leaving a description that essentially said “I like to go fishing and have fun.”
It was crickets for months, I got no messages. Eventually one guy wrote me a message about fishing. I didn’t see anything too exciting about his profile, but I also had no friends and nothing else going on, so I went with it. We talked on the phone a lot, and had some great conversations. He was a teacher, and I was raised by teachers so it felt normal. I made a lot of interesting excuses not to meet up, but it got to the point where it was weird not to so I generously offered to show up at 9pm on a Tuesday night after beach volleyball. I arrived at Applebee’s covered in sand and sweat with no makeup on, because that’s how much I cared about this first date. It was awkward and uncomfortable, so we went our separate ways and I thought, “I’ll never see that guy again.”
The location of our first date, a really classy joint with American cuisine that wasn’t too inconvenient on the way home from indoor beach volleyball.
By the end of that week I could not shake the feeling that I had really screwed that up, so I called him. We kept talking, and saw each other again. I asked him, “why do you keep calling me?” He told me to call him when I felt like talking.
It grew slowly from there. It wasn’t “perfect on paper” the way I had sized up and assessed every date I had ever been on before. He wasn’t Lutheran or tall or Norwegian. I swore I wouldn’t date divorced guys or guys with kids. I still smoked cigarettes back then and he swore he’d never date a smoker, and somehow he looked past it. I had no friends in Seattle and no money and not much else to offer. But it was in that deep darkness that the light started to shine.
Woodroe knew the bible. We could talk for hours and he never bored me. He loved his daughter mightily and his family was his primary social circle. He was thoughtful and kind to me. He had gone to college in Texas and wasn’t opposed to moving back someday. I was able to take him everywhere in my world, he’d go to orchestra concerts and to art exhibits, to dive bars and to upscale restaurants. He just fit and it was so easy.
Our first Seahawks game, where I realized I would have to become a Seahawks fan and move the Texans and Vikings to secondary positions in my heart.
We got married a year later and lived in North Bend, Washington until we moved back to Texas in 2013. Life in Washington was hard, we were house poor and depressed and I always knew in my heart that I wanted to be back in Texas. North Bend is a dark place 30 miles east of Seattle where the rain clouds get stuck against the mountains, where Twin Peaks was filmed and bizarre things happen in the woods. Our seven years living in the “Bermuda Triangle of Washington” were filled with many more challenges, blessings and victories, and is another blog post for another time.
It took courage to leave that life behind too. But Texas had my heart, and when my husband’s school permanently closed, the door swung wide open for us to make the move.
I had already moved across the country twice before, so I knew that all we had to do was get in the car and go.
In September 2017, we were blessed by the greatest joy of my life, our baby girl Kari. Her name (you know, like the babysitter’s name in The Incredibles) means “pure in spirit.” Seven months later, my brother and his girlfriend welcomed their baby boy, proving my sister’s Thanksgiving prediction wrong again.
My two great loves, Woodroe and Kari.
Only now in hindsight can I see how much courage it took to make these moves and what God’s marvelous plan was.
Courage starts with hope. You cannot hear if you don’t listen, and it’s in that place between hope and action that courage lives and propels us forward. It wasn’t about the courage I needed to become a wife or a mother. It was about finding the courage to listen to the Holy Spirit and having the faith to move forward even when the moves looked risky or crazy.
It is as simple as saying, “I’m listening.”
Essay by: Eva Sheie Kiser
To read more about Eva and stay in touch, click here.
Hi friend!
I'm Catia, a woman, wife, mama, sister, sister friend, you know -- I wear a million hats just like you.
One of my biggest whys is that I want people to feel good about ALL of who they are. Including you.
The threads running through all my work (I’m an author - The Courage to Become, I’m a motivational speaker - TEDx, Choose Joy or Die , I am a private coach ) are hope, joy and empowerment.
If I could choose ten words that best describe me I would say: honest, welcoming, giving, curious, loving, earnest, empathetic, spiritual, playful, and sassy. Let's add: adventurous. That's 11.
Nice to meet you!
Want to start feeling really good but not sure where to start? Jump on into our virtual classroom (complimentary of course!) and get a weekly guide on how to walk with confidence and joy! You are divine. You are magic. I look forward to serving you!
Confidence + Joy Weekly Guide
The Courage to Become | Shani Montique-Ahmad
In the Beginning
I met my husband watching a live band in the garage of some condo in East Austin, years ago. I was completely over being in a relationship and almost didn’t attend the event that changed my life. I hate to say that the cliché is true, but when you’re not looking for your life partner your match will find you. That night it was all about me having a good time with friends and then he showed up. After a double date eating some really hot Thai food at Madam Ma’am’s with runny noses, we found it difficult to not be together. Soon thereafter, he discovered that band-life wasn’t for him and I realized that working retail and weekends was not my calling. We eventually wised-up, got a game plan that would bond us forever, and executed.
When we decided to spend the rest of our lives together, I wouldn’t have dared to compare our union to a race to the finish line. We met when I was 27 years old, nearly 28, and my husband was 31. We got married three years later. Before we said, “I do”, we tackled through all the hard topics like lifestyle, religion, politics, business, and child rearing, which I’m sure extended our courtship. For us, raising a child is one of the most important duties a person will ever have in their lifetime so settling any differences was crucial. As equipped as we thought we were in our efforts to avoid marital complications, we were ill-prepared for the emotional roller coaster of infertility.
Twenty Minutes After
Excitement was the feeling we both felt when, in the Fall of 2013, I became pregnant.
We broke all the rules of keeping our mouths shut and soon told all our close friends and family. I knew that I had fibroids, but a few of my aunts and cousins on both sides of the family did too and, with some complications, were able to bear children. Naturally, I was very prepared for a few bumps in the road until I gave birth. My OBGYN monitored me very closely. The fibroids had grown quickly and feasted on the boost of estrogen in my body. I began to notice a large bulge gradually protruding near my right hip. Towards the end of my first trimester, I was ordered to go on bed rest for a few days. On a Sunday, I was released to start work the coming Monday and I was relieved that possibly the worst was behind me. Twenty minutes after my husband left for work I became VERY scared. My body started experiencing the excruciatingly painful process of miscarriage.
I instinctively wanted to be prepared for the worst. I researched all the symptoms of suffering miscarriage while on bed rest, not expecting that I would soon live the tragedy. The pain was sharp like a knife to the lower abdomen, which forced me to immediately fold forward. I started symptomatically sweating and could hardly speak when I called 911 to rescue me. I managed to get an ambulance and very slowly inched to the front door doubled over in agonizing pain to avoid the paramedics breaking my window or door; left the door wide open and went to lay down.
The long morning ride to the hospital regarding fertility issues was not going to be my last. As much as I dislike taking medication, I begged the paramedic in a forced whisper for “more drugs” to take the pain away. Terminology like Dilation and Curettage (D&C) and Laparoscopic Myomectomy soon became very familiar. In the last four years, I have had three of each surgery. My fourth and most recent pregnancy in January of 2018 following the In Vitro Fertilization (IVF) procedure was a short-lived celebration that lasted only six days. I was diagnosed with a life-threatening ectopic pregnancy and given methotrexate twice to terminate the stubborn pregnancy. I had side effects of acute uterine pain and blood loss. After all the nausea, the medication, the needles, the weight gain, the constant blood withdrawals for lab testing, the hormones, and the surgeries… I was exhausted.
Surviving Through Purpose
It’s uplifting when you can find happiness even when you’re going through the most trying times.
My husband and I own and operate the Franklin Music Academy, a private business, in Austin teaching mostly children music lessons at our home studio and this has been the anchor in our relationship. After the newness of marriage is over and all you’re left with is each other, I guess it’s easy for people to get wrapped up in child rearing, a career, or some hobby, but for us it’s our business that forces us to communicate and work out our problems. The irony to dedicate our lives in educating other people’s children and not have our own is mind-blowing. In hindsight, I have realized that finding purpose through the business has been my strength and lifeline. Almost 5 years of infertility and upset has only been bearable knowing that I am contributing to my husband’s happiness teaching music and creating an environment that nurtures child development.
During our journey to expand our family, it was difficult to see parents with their kids at our house, but surprisingly our clients helped us cope. They were a nice distraction that kept us very busy. As I grew more comfortable sharing my infertility story outside of friends and family, I discovered that we were not alone. Due to the complications that IVF brought, we decided that this would no longer be a viable option as we needed to ensure our frozen embryos would still be able to bring us a family. Amazingly, one of our clients came forward and offered to be our compassionate gestational surrogate.
The feeling was undeniably magical when our client announced to be our carrier. We felt like we had hit the lottery especially considering the fact that our thoughtful client did not want to be compensated outside of paying for her medical bills. We made all the proper arrangements with our fertility clinic and waived her fees for music lessons for her kids. Unfortunately, after 2 months of preparation, we were told that our client was not a good fit for surrogacy.
Determined to Keep Going
It was hard to let go of the lady that thought so highly of us. It takes a special person to take on the great responsibility of surrogacy. Surrogacy is a self-less act that requires a strong mind and a heart as big as Texas. To assist in bringing a child into someone else’s family is a sacrifice of time and energy and we will be forever grateful to the next person that selects us as the intended parents. We still believe the best method to minimize the risk of miscarriage is to have a gestational surrogate and, this time, we are going through a surrogacy agency to find a carrier.
Choosing this route shouldn’t indicate that I have given up on wanting to have kids naturally one day. Nowadays, I have been diligently working on healing myself from the inside out through food, which is the best medicine. Agreeing to do IVF is a very involved self-sacrificial process that tests your sanity, your relationship, and your financial nest egg. The hormones make you testy and moody, seclusive, and have side-effects that can make you more prone to illnesses, including cancer. I am not suggesting that IVF shouldn’t be considered as an alternative to having children, but people should be aware that this procedure is very taxing. Now that I am off all the medications, I can focus on diet and exercise and doing the things that make me happy.
It may sound odd to continue our journey considering our history, but why should we give up? After you have afforded all the things you want and lived your life doing and seeing everything you desire, what then? When you’re old and gray and lying flat on your back, all of those things won’t matter. You’ll be too weak to enjoy them anyway. A child is a gift that keeps giving when their bright smiling face comes to visit you until your last breath.
My husband and I planned our life to marry, enjoy each other, and a few years later start a family. We started a business, bought a house, paid off our debts, and grew our emergency funds to support our baby. All the required ingredients of stability, love, and a two-parent household fostering fun and education has been properly laid out. Our dream of expanding our family will not expire until we have our baby by hook or by crook and we are eager to one day enjoy a family with children to love and nurture.
Hi friend!
I'm Catia, a woman, wife, mama, sister, sister friend, you know -- I wear a million hats just like you.
One of my biggest whys is that I want people to feel good about ALL of who they are. Including you.
The threads running through all my work (I’m an author - The Courage to Become, I’m a motivational speaker - TEDx, Choose Joy or Die , I am a private coach ) are hope, joy and empowerment.
If I could choose ten words that best describe me I would say: honest, welcoming, giving, curious, loving, earnest, empathetic, spiritual, playful, and sassy. Let's add: adventurous. That's 11.
Nice to meet you!
Want to start feeling really good but not sure where to start? Jump on into our virtual classroom (complimentary of course!) and get a weekly guide on how to walk with confidence and joy! You are divine. You are magic. I look forward to serving you!
Confidence + Joy Weekly Guide
The Courage to Become | Andi Franklin
What I remember, is the silence. The dimly light dining room. My knees on the chair cushion and arms draped over its back, clutching a $25 Target gift card I had gotten as an early birthday present. Curtains peeled back, street lights on, and a cul-de-sac full of cars that were in for the night.
He’ll be here. He’ll be here. He promised he would take me, so he’ll be here.
I don’t know how long I was there, staring and waiting and convincing myself that he would show. But finally, I felt my mother’s gentle hand on my shoulder.
"Its time to go to bed, sweetie. I’m sure he just got caught up.”
Looking back, I think of my mom and hard that must have been for her. I think of how long she pondered what to say to her bright-eyed little girl who sat in a window all night waiting for her dad to show up and take her shopping for her 7th birthday. I wonder if she knew how far gone he was, I wonder if she saw it coming.
That night marked the beginning of my biological father’s exit strategy. I can only remember seeing him one other time in passing before he was gone for good. He never said goodbye. He never told me why. He was just, gone.
My mom explained that he was in the clutch of drugs and alcohol, but I wasn’t buying it. Deep down I knew the real reason he left⏤me.
This belief coursed through my veins and spread in my body like a cancer. Each year that passed I would get sicker and sicker, subconsciously convinced that his love was the cure. Meanwhile, in my conscious mind, I became obsessed with finding him.
The reason changed with each season in my life.
At the tender age of seven, I simply wanted him to come home to me. I loved him, missed him, and didn’t care about the rest. But as a new year turned, so would my feelings toward this elusive man. Emotions? I’ve felt them all. I think that is kind of expected when you are abandoned.
But what surprises me now, is how I let that single event in my life take the driver seat and dictate every future relationship.
My story of becoming, lies here—in the gaping wounds of a woman who spent over 20 years of her life looking for love, when love had been hers all along.
My quest to fill the void of my biological father’s love sent me down twisted, untended, shadowy trails.
It got to the point where I would push for young men to leave me around my birthday because I had convinced myself it was going to happen anyway.
Somehow, no matter what, I would always find myself back where I started:
Seven years old. Curtains peeled back, street lights on, and a cul-de-sac full of cars that were in for the night.
He’ll be here. He’ll be here. He promised he would take me, so he’ll be here.
I would always see it coming, but I would sit and wait anyway.
The leaving. The betrayal. The heartbreak.
My deep longing for love led me into the clutches of manipulation. Young men knew how to work a broken girl, and one in particular was so skilled that it took me weeks to realize he had raped me.
“But did you say no?”
Yes.
“But did you try to fight him off?”
Yes.
“And yet, you still didn’t realize you had been raped?”
No.
Trauma has a funny way of doing that to a person. Especially when it roots back to your childhood and incessant need to be loved.
Fortunately, I clawed my way out of that hell and found myself on the other side. The side that could sit in a space with other women who had gone through it and say, “me too, and I’m here for you.”
I met a man who wasn’t afraid of me and my baggage. A man who refused to leave me around my birthday, despite my many attempts to sway him otherwise.
We fell in love, got married, and therein lies the happy ending, right?
I sure thought so.
I had actively convinced myself that I was cured.
Healed! Praise Jesus, Hallelujah!
I thought the void had been filled and I went on with my merry way with life.
Until the day I finally had to come face to face with him.
Meeting my biological father again for the first time in 18 years was terrifying.
It was my grandfather’s 80th birthday and my father had been clean and sober for about six months, so the family allowed him to come to the event and notified us that he would be there.
I was five months pregnant with my first son.
Palms sweaty, face flushed.
Don’t you cry, Andrea. You’ve gotta stay strong for your brother.
I brought a notebook full of letters, songs, and poems I had written to him throughout the years. I was going to give it to him and show him the pain he had caused.
But when I saw him, I couldn’t do it.
This man, so broken and fragile. Petrified of us—his grown children.
My heart no longer hurt for just me, it hurt for him too.
And so the notebook stayed with me and I left that birthday party, heart still guarded, but softened.
He managed to stay clean for another year and a half and was even invited to my brother’s wedding. Then suddenly, he was gone again. Back into the warm arms of alcohol and Methamphetamine—his oldest friends, and closest enemies.
When I found out, I decided I was done with him for good. I wiped my hands clean, threw them in the air, and proclaimed that I was whole, and didn’t need him.
And yet, no matter what, I would always find myself back where I started:
Seven years old. Curtains peeled back, street lights on, and a cul-de-sac full of cars that were in for the night.
He’ll be here. He’ll be here. He promised he would take me, so he’ll be here.
Three and a half years had passed since I had seen or heard from him and then, my grandpa died.
I knew he would be at his father’s funeral, but I also knew he was on drugs and I was terrified of seeing him like that.
I stepped out of the truck at Green Acres Cemetery, not knowing what to expect.
Palms sweaty, face flushed.
Don’t you cry, Andrea. You’ve gotta stay strong for your brother.
But he never showed. And it was there, at the celebration of my grandpa’s life, that my becoming shifted.
I found out from my cousin that my father was homeless, living on a dirt road somewhere in the desert.
A rumble stirred within me.
Homeless.
I couldn’t accept this. I heard it echoing in my mind for days.
Homeless.
And so, I knew I needed to do something.
I talked to my husband and told him I really wanted to bring a care pack of sorts to my father. You know, toiletries and snacks and things that may help. I knew it wasn’t much, but I also knew it was better than nothing.
But first, I needed to know how to get to him. I decided to send him a facebook message and ask him if what I heard was true.
No response.
Then, an epiphany.
I was lying in bed next to my husband when I became.
I need to tell him I forgive him. Because, I do. I forgive him. And I need to tell him I love him. Because, I do. I love him. And I always have.
Then, another epiphany.
My entire life, I have thought that I needed his love to fill the void in my heart, when in truth, it is MY love that I have wanted to give to him this entire time.
There aren’t adequate enough words to describe this moment.
23 years in the making, I finally discovered my truth:
Conditional love is not who I am. My love is mine to give, and I don’t need someone to love me back in order to give them my love.
That, is unconditional love. And that, is what my soul has always wanted to give to my father.
I sent another message and this time, I told him I loved him and forgave him, without expecting anything in return.
Still, no response.
Then, I sent him this:
I just wanted to let you know that I love you. And I’ll probably tell you that every week from now on, whether you reply or not, because I want you to know that there is still someone living and breathing on this earth that loves and cares for you.
And every Thursday for the past three months I have done just that.
Since then, I was able to see him. My husband and I made the hour and a half drive to the dirt road he’s living on to bring him some things.
He’s created a house of sorts out of an abandoned trailer he found. He scavenges with his girlfriend and they both do drugs.
But, I still love him.
We chatted and laughed and I promised that next time we come, I would stay for a while and catch up more.
He will never be the father I dreamed up in my mind and he may never get clean and sober again.
But I’m no longer seven years old. Curtains peeled back, street lights on, and a cul-de-sac full of cars that were in for the night.
Now, I am a thirty-year-old woman. Eyes peeled open, natural light flooding in, and a heart full of unconditional love that I’m ready to give, freely.
I’ll be there. I’ll be there. I promised myself I would love fully, so I’ll be there.
Essay by: Andi Franklin
You can find more of Andi's writings on Facebook, Instagram and on her website Andi Franklin.
Hi friend!
I'm Catia, a woman, wife, mama, sister, sister friend, you know -- I wear a million hats just like you.
One of my biggest whys is that I want people to feel good about ALL of who they are. Including you.
The threads running through all my work (I’m an author - The Courage to Become, I’m a motivational speaker - TEDx, Choose Joy or Die , I am a private coach ) are hope, joy and empowerment.
If I could choose ten words that best describe me I would say: honest, welcoming, giving, curious, loving, earnest, empathetic, spiritual, playful, and sassy. Let's add: adventurous. That's 11.
Nice to meet you!
Want to start feeling really good but not sure where to start? Jump on into our virtual classroom (complimentary of course!) and get a weekly guide on how to walk with confidence and joy! You are divine. You are magic. I look forward to serving you!
Confidence + Joy Weekly Guide
The Courage to Become | Jenna Zielbauer
Hi y’all! My name is Jenna Zielbauer, I am a 30 something mother of 2 living the dream in Austin, TX with my husband, tots, and high maintenance French bulldog. Our family moved to Texas from Chicago a little over a year ago and we never looked back! Just in case things weren't crazy enough from moving across the country on a whim, I went and invented RockEase™, the first compact & portable device that converts any standard 4-legged chair into a rocking chair for use as both a travel rocking chair and nursery rocking chair. RockEase™ can be installed in as little as 20 seconds. RockEase™ is patent pending!
What was one thing you always dreamt of doing, were afraid to do, but did anyway?
I have always dreamed of being my own boss. Perhaps it stems from my desire to work on my own terms, flex my creative and innovative muscles whenever I want, and/or wanting to be a strong powerhouse female in the working world. Whatever “it” is, I've always been driven to find gaps in the marketplace and give it a shot. Sometimes it works out and sometimes it doesn't, but you gotta try.
I didn’t always have aspirations to become an inventor, but out of desperation when traveling with my then-3-month-old, I invented a baby product that will become a sanity-saver for both new and seasoned parents. Taking the leap forward to act on this invention was absolutely terrifying. The thought of failing: letting early investors down; letting myself down; my family down; losing the hard earned money that has gone in to the project - is enough to keep anyone from moving forward (and lying awake at night once they've done so). But the confidence I have in the product combined with the feedback I have gotten from parents is enough to propel me onward, even when I am questioning everything.
How did it feel getting started?
It felt liberating but also very scary. So much is on the line for me both financially and mentally - it's more than enough to make someone not take that next step forward. But if you believe in what you are doing, the product you are bringing to market, and even just yourself as an entrepreneur, it will get you through those tough times.
Tell us about some of the obstacles you faced when you got started starting your own business.
One of the first engineering companies we worked with did a really poor job implementing our vision; we had such a negative experience that we asked for money back. The owner of the company then told me that he bought www.jennazielbauer.com (as a threat, as if he would do something with it). It was the most insane thing ever. He ended up giving us money back and turning over the the domain — but it was bizarre, and we learned a lot about what to look for in strategic partners as a result of this strange experience.
What motivates you to move forward.
Being an entrepreneur, the highs are high and the lows are low. Without fail, when I’m going through a dark moment, I’ll receive an email or Instagram DM from a prospective buyer telling me how much RockEase will change their life as a parent or how much they need it ASAP. Hearing from prospective buyers how much we will impact their lives as parents keeps me going.
Which living person do you most admire?
To be totally honest I admire any entrepreneurial mother out there hustling Monday - Sunday. The sole job of being a mother is by far the hardest job of all. You combine that with the stressors (physically, mentally, financially) of owning your own business and it’s enough for anyone to cash in their chips. I admire those that keep going, regardless of how hard it gets. It’s inspiring for their children, their friends and other mompreneurs admiring from afar (like me!).
Which talent would you most like to have?
The ability to make anyone laugh. Just like rocking triggers a calming response in the parasympathetic nervous system, laughing decreases stress and triggers the release of endorphins (the body’s natural feel-good chemicals). Laughter is truly the best medicine and I wish I had to ability make more more people laugh. There is some good stand-up comedy in ATX, maybe I need to get out there? ;)
What is your most marked characteristic?
I have been told over and over that I am a great utility player, meaning this: Assign me a task and walk away - doesn't matter what it is - you can trust me to get the job done. I don't need direction, I don't need my hand held, I only need to know what the end result needs to be, and for you to trust that I will deliver.
What is your motto?
"Embrace the Chaos" - my husband and I adopted this as our "theme quote" before our first child was born. We decided than in those tough parenting moments, when all hell is breaking loose, to just embrace it. Embrace everything about it. Because one day you'll wish you could have that moment back.
What are some things you are proud to have accomplished?
Most obviously my two adorable children, my apparel line Casual Friday that was in 350+ stores within a year and profitable within months of launching, developing RockEase when all it was was a drawing on a napkin, and successfully moving cross country with our family to put our roots down in Texas.
What keeps you going when you feel like you are knee deep in mud?
As far as work goes, knowing how many lives I will change for the better keeps me charging forward. And at home I rely on my tribe when I’m having those dark moments. I have a great circle of friends, all so different in their personalities, but I know who I can turn to when when I am feeling stuck and they’ll always guide me out.
What’s one piece of advice you’d give to women who are about to embark on the journey you are on?
Make sure you are putting your resources into something you are truly passionate about. Find a great support network who will pull you up when you feel stuck or down, and who will truly be happy (not jealous) when you succeed. Overestimate your expenses and costs, use the cloud to stay organized, and Google, Google, Google - there is a TON of great, free information out there.
Essay by: Jenna Zielbauer
Stay in touch with Jenna and Rockease at Rockease.com // Facebook // Instagram
Hi friend!
I'm Catia, a woman, wife, mama, sister, sister friend, you know -- I wear a million hats just like you.
One of my biggest whys is that I want people to feel good about ALL of who they are. Including you.
The threads running through all my work (I’m an author - The Courage to Become, I’m a motivational speaker - TEDx, Choose Joy or Die , I am a private coach ) are hope, joy and empowerment.
If I could choose ten words that best describe me I would say: honest, welcoming, giving, curious, loving, earnest, empathetic, spiritual, playful, and sassy. Let's add: adventurous. That's 11.
Nice to meet you!
Want to start feeling really good but not sure where to start? Jump on into our virtual classroom (complimentary of course!) and get a weekly guide on how to walk with confidence and joy! You are divine. You are magic. I look forward to serving you!
Confidence + Joy Weekly Guide
The Courage to Become | Reagan Corbett #reagART
Hi! My name is Reagan Corbett, I am twenty-four years old and a full time artist from Houston, TX. When I say artist, I mean that I am a creator of sorts, but primarily people recognize me as painter. Although my paintings are what put me on the map, I truly believe that art, and being an artist is more than what you see on the canvas.
Growing up, the one of the things I dreamt of doing was literally being good at something. Whatever that “something” was, I knew it wasn’t going to come easy.
As the middle sister of three girls, I never knew what exactly my “thing” was. I was never the smartest girl in the class, never the best athlete on the team, and honestly never the most talented student in my art classes; but I was always the hardest worker….and I think I get that quality from my dad, which I admire him for.
So I guess my dream, in a way, was to stand out...to be seen differently than so-and-so’s little sister or someone's daughter, but rather someone who was recognized and admired for their talents and accomplishments.
I guess my desire to “stand out”, came from knowing I wasn’t spectacular at anything, and in turn, made me afraid of almost nothing. What did I have to lose? If I tried and worked my hardest at the things that remotely interested me, something good would eventually happen-- and it did.
In the spring of 2012 I was accepted to the College of Fine Arts at the University of Texas at Austin, and decided to fully embrace the next four years of my creative journey by attending UT’s College of Fine Arts. I learned a ton from my professors, studied abroad, and made exponential strides in my quantified skill level as an artist. Fast-forward to senior year of college, I had learned a lot and loved (almost) all my classes, but had no clue as to what I would be doing post graduation. I researched tons of jobs that would allow me to exercise my creativity, but nothing seemed to “feel right”. I was lost. As senior year was coming to an end I decided I needed to do something with all of the giant paintings I had created over the past few years, so I posted them on Facebook and BOOM, the messages starting pouring in. Out of nowhere a career path came into sight-- people were no longer just complimenting my work, but they wanted to buy it. I was prompted by a friend to start a separate Instagram account (@reag_art) solely dedicated to showcasing my work. I took her advice and “ReagART” was born.
As easy as that sounds, getting started was scary and hard. Right as ReagART was taking off, my life drastically changed. I graduated from college and had to move back home with my parents, lost my studio space, lost group critiques, lost my woodshop, lost the advice of my professors, and just about everything else that made ReagART “work”. After searching for numerous studios around town in Houston, I finally find someone who was willing to take a chance on a twenty-two year old artist with no credit score. After signing the lease, I remember walking into my first studio and thinking, hopefully I can sell a painting to pay next month’s rent. It was the fear of failure, losing my dream of sharing art with the world, and self-disappointment that motivated me to work the hardest I ever had, and still do today.
It’s been almost three years since I first started my career as a professional artist in Houston, and there is no doubt that if I did not work as hard as I did then, and do today, I would not be sitting here writing about the courage to become, because there would be no story to tell.
Platforms
Right now, the living person I admire the most is my dad. As cheesy and predictable as that sounds he too is an entrepreneur and has unintentionally made me the worker, dreamer and schemer I am today! He’s the type of guy that leads by example, and always has the best advice.
A talent I would most like to have… I’m changing the question to a superpower I would most like to have, and that would be the ability to freeze time. I often find myself stressed, overwhelmed, and full of anxiety because there aren’t enough hours in the day. If I could freeze time, savor the moments (big or small) and get all of my work done… I might be the happiest girl on earth.
My most marked characteristic is drive and commitment to my craft. This job is not for the faint of heart. I hold myself accountable to only being as good as the efforts I put into my work, and with that mentality comes with a lot of sacrifices. Late nights, early mornings, not seeing friends, not seeing family, a lacking social life, no time for a romantic relationship, etc. It’s a trade-off, and a balancing act when I can manage it-- but for the most part my work is my life and that always comes first. If I didn’t fully believe and embrace that mentality, I know my story would be significantly different.
I have to admit that I have fallen victim to the act of comparison, so I am constantly reminding myself of the motto, “the grass is always greener”. I can’t help but envy people who get to leave the office at 5, and literally do not even have to think about work until they come back the next day. I mean that sounds pretty amazing, and somedays I would give anything for that….but then I remember, why I do what I do, and why being an artist works for me. It fulfills me, and makes me feel like I am doing my part in a society where everyone is different.
Working hard day in and day out isn’t always the most pleasurable experience, but this is all part of the bigger picture and I am confident that one day it will all pay off.
First and foremost, I am proud that I am entering my third year of being a full time artist. I am proud that I am an artist for me, and not because someone told me to. I am proud that I hosted my first solo exhibition at the age of twenty-three, and I am proud that my first ever public speech was a TED talk!
When things are looking really bad and not going well, I have to think about all that I have accomplished so far, and know that whatever this terrible moment is, it can’t be the end. I don’t know what my story is in full, or how it will end up, but I know that it won’t end on a bad note or because I was forced out. Another huge motivational force that keeps me going are my collectors and the people that have continued to support me and my career-- letting them down, would be my greatest fear; so giving up is simply not an option.
To any women out there who are about to embark on the journey of becoming an artist I have some words of advice:
Do not let the fear of the unknown stop you, instead let it fuel you to create your own path
Be confident in yourself and in your work, there will ALWAYS be someone who tries to tell you otherwise.
Do it for the passion, not the money
Take all the advice you can get
You are your biggest motivation. Whatever it takes-- get it done!
Essay by: Reagan Corbett
All the art featured was created by Reagan Corbett and if you love it, (which why wouldn't you?) go on over to her Website and browse!
Hi friend!
I'm Catia, a woman, wife, mama, sister, sister friend, you know -- I wear a million hats just like you.
One of my biggest whys is that I want people to feel good about ALL of who they are. Including you.
The threads running through all my work (I’m an author - The Courage to Become, I’m a motivational speaker - TEDx, Choose Joy or Die , I am a private coach ) are hope, joy and empowerment.
If I could choose ten words that best describe me I would say: honest, welcoming, giving, curious, loving, earnest, empathetic, spiritual, playful, and sassy. Let's add: adventurous. That's 11.
Nice to meet you!
Want to start feeling really good but not sure where to start? Jump on into our virtual classroom (complimentary of course!) and get a weekly guide on how to walk with confidence and joy! You are divine. You are magic. I look forward to serving you!
Confidence + Joy Newsletter
The Courage to Become | Takisha Shelby
My name is Takisha Shelby, I was born and raised in Lubbock, Texas. The Lord blessed me to see 41 years this past 3rd of February. I'm very thankful for that.
Looking back over my life, I can see how the Lord has played a role in it the whole time. I have been through a lot my 41years living on this earth, but I give all the glory to none other than that man above my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.
My story of becoming begins about 15 years ago, I was about 26 years old working two jobs. My full-time job at Lubbock Independent School District as a Special Education Teaching Assistant and my part-time job as a Food service worker. I was no stranger to hard work back then and still not to this day.
It was the weekend after working my full-time job I was at my part-time job. I had been dealing with a headache the whole day I thought it was a sinus headache. I had also gotten suspended the rest of the weekend from my part-time job because of some attitude issues I was having.
Only to find out it was all due to what was going on with me physically and medically.
I was supposed to go out that night but didn't due to my headache. I ate me something, thinking that would help but it didn't so I took me some allergy medicine, decided against going out and went to bed. I was awakened in the early morning hours by a bad headache. My head was hurting me so bad to the point I was crying.
The guy I was seeing at the time told my mom he was going to take me to the hospital, which he did. At the hospital, after running some tests and waiting for what seemed like an eternity, the doctors came out and told us what was going on.
By this time my mom had come up there, the doctors had told us that I had a tumor on my brain, in fact; I have several tumors on my brain(looking like little snowflakes all over my brain) but the one they were worried about was the one which was blocking the plumbing and was causing me to have the headache.
The doctor said that it was unusual because it had fluid around it, they would have to admit me into the hospital, go in and put tubes in my head to drain the fluid from my brain before they would be able to do the actual brain surgery to remove the actual tumor causing the problem.
So now, I'm about to be admitted into the hospital because the situation is serious.
They put the tubes in my head so that the fluid could be drained off my brain. A few days later they did the actual brain surgery. The surgery was supposed to take about 17 hours but ended up taking about 11 hours, but God.
Thinking back to that time, I know that the Lord was with me, because after the surgery I was able to see my mama for a few minutes and once I saw her although they had given me medication to sedate me I knew she was there and I was pretty much aware of everything going on around me.
I remember her telling me that she couldn't stay long, and she would see me later.
When she told me that I wasn't trying to let her go, they ended up asking her to leave so I could get some rest, giving me more medication so I could get me some rest.
About a week and a half later, I was out of the hospital on my way to recovery.
I can honestly say that if it wasn't for God bringing through that situation I wouldn't be here right to this day. I feel this more so now at this point in my life than I ever did before. It was by God's grace and mercy that I didn't have to have any therapy only a little speech therapy.
After the surgery because the area where it had occurred was affected, I wasn't able to form complete thoughts; leading us up to that point. After all that had taken place, look at God! Until now I never in a million years would have thought I would be where I am.
This was the beginning of my spiritual journey. I thank God daily that He has blessed me to see another day up to this point. I have always stood on His Word, in Philippians 4:13, I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me, which is my motto; and the basis of my faith.
It took me a while to move on after the surgery, thanks be to God!
It was only the summer that I was out of work, I was able to return to work at Lubbock Independent School District after that. Praise God!
If there was any advice I had to give to anyone going through this or someone who have gone through anything like this, it would be to hold on to your faith. Pray, pray, and if it still feels hopeless pray some more.
If there is one thing that I have learned throughout this whole experience it is this: Prayer changes things. I know that, without any doubt in my mind.
Just as I know that I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me your readers too can do all things through Christ who strengthens them.
Essay by: Takisha Shelby
Hi friend!
I'm Catia, a woman, wife, mama, sister, sister friend, you know -- I wear a million hats just like you.
One of my biggest whys is that I want people to feel good about ALL of who they are. Including you.
The threads running through all my work (I’m an author - The Courage to Become, I’m a motivational speaker - TEDx, Choose Joy or Die , I am a private coach ) are hope, joy and empowerment.
If I could choose ten words that best describe me I would say: honest, welcoming, giving, curious, loving, earnest, empathetic, spiritual, playful, and sassy. Let's add: adventurous. That's 11.
Nice to meet you!
Want to start feeling really good but not sure where to start? Jump on into our virtual classroom (complimentary of course!) and get a weekly guide on how to walk with confidence and joy! You are divine. You are magic. I look forward to serving you!
Confidence + Joy Newsletter
The Courage to Become | Jill Faulkner
“Listening to your heart is not simple. Finding out who you are is not simple. It takes a lot of hard work and courage to get to know who you are and what you want. - Sue Bender”
Working on myself is the hardest work I have done to date, and the most worthwhile. But seriously, the hardest. Embarking on the journey of changing who I was at my core, which was really un-becoming my current self to get back to who I was meant to be, started a long time ago, and will continue until I die. Perhaps morbid, but also true. Self-work, like change, is constant. And YOU are the constant in your life. Realizing that this person (me) is all I have, and all I need, fueled my desire to live my best life. This is not to say that I do not have family and friends and support, or want all of those relationships in my life, but I control my happiness, I create my life.
As I have shifted my thinking, and perspective, I hope to encourage people to do the same. I want people to shift how they think. How they think about themselves, their lives, others, and the world around them. The shift is so magical. Daunting, and challenging, but the results are awesome. I wouldn’t be here, right now, in this moment, even writing this, had I not buckled in for the ride of a lifetime. Pursuing a life I desire. Becoming more of who I am meant to be. Stepping into a life destined to be mine.
There will always be ups and downs, which is how I got here, and maybe that’s how you got here, too. My life, and my business, Stick With It Co., were born out of a need to remind myself of how I was worthy of living the life I wanted. I needed to evolve my mindset, and my framework, and love myself so fiercely that no matter what outside forces swirled around me I stayed solid and steady. I craved the tools and sought out resources - so, countless books, YouTube videos, meditations, mantras, workshops, yoga classes, sticky-notes, therapy, and a whole lotta Oprah later, here we are.
Picture it, Austin, TX, 2015. Word of the year: Freedom. I don’t know how it came to me, or where I was, but it was my word for the year. I didn’t know at the time what I was looking for freedom from, or seeking freedom toward, but it was my word. Looking back, I also don’t know whether or not I consciously made decisions that year with “freedom” as my guide, or if it seeped into my subconscious and led the way without me realizing it. Cut to March of 2015, new job. Freedom? Cut to November 2015, fired. FREEDOM. Being let go was not a “blessing in disguise” - it was a straight up, in your face, here’s your freedom, girl. Now, what are you gonna do with it? It took almost the whole year, but here was freedom staring me in the face. I was free. Free from stress, emotionally free, and free to tap into what I really wanted to do. I was able to let go. And it was okay. I was okay. I knew it would be okay. All the stickies I had on my bathroom mirror, and kitchen cabinets got me here. In life, things are never in our desired timing, we have to give that up, let go of timing, and trust in the process.
I now had time to think about my life in a bigger way. It felt great. I also acknowledge and hold extreme gratitude for the fact that I was in a position to be able to take two weeks to just be, and figure some stuff out. In that time, I started iterating on a product, and names, and ideas, and all of the things. How could I get the concept of affirmations, and self-love to the masses? So, I just got started. Handwriting 50 different affirmations on sticky notes. Packaging them up, changing the packaging, and giving them away - to friends, family, strangers. The reactions were always positive and encouraging, which emboldened me to keep at it.
Original set of affirmations
At the beginning of December (2015) a job opportunity sort of fell into my lap, and well, mama needed a paycheck, so back to work I went. Continuing to pursue Stick With It Co. on the side worked out for some time, but I wanted more. So, about a year later, I quit my job. Scary, freeing, vomit-inducing, glorious, unknown, and wonderful all at the same time. I wanted to give this business the love and focus it deserved, but it wasn’t even ever about me. It’s about you. This business is happening through me, for greater purpose.
There is a need for people to see the power of their words and statements. Especially in the world within which we exist today. We must be intentional with our words, especially the words we speak about ourselves and our lives.
Self-love, self-approval, self-accountability, self-compassion, and self-respect will generate a solid connection with yourself, allowing connections with others, driving you forward with courage, while welcoming authenticity, resilience, and support into your life.
There’s been a lot of change recently for me. Picking up some event contract work, not working on the business as intensely as I was planning to, general life happenings - you know how it goes. Physical/locational changes, and you better believe emotional - ALL the emotions. Changing, learning, experiencing, letting go, surrendering, and forging ahead.
When all these things happen on their own, I imagine life might be a bit less stressful to handle. Throw all these sizable changes into a ring together, at the same time, and they’re ducking and weaving, and throwing punches you’re not always ready for - then it can be quite the ruckus. But, change is good. Change is needed. Change is like sandpaper - rough while it’s doing its life’s work, transforming and addressing some splinters, but on the other side you’re grateful to have gone through the pain to get to a better, smoother, less splintery place.
I’m not sure I got too off the mark with the sandpaper bit, but it just popped in my brain and I went with it. The point is, change can be painful. It hurts. Sometimes you don’t know why it’s happening, and sometimes you never find out why it did, but you have to trust it’s for the greater purpose for your life. All the changes are for reason. Maybe that reason is you just learn to love yourself a little more than the day before.
I believe the desire for human connection, with ourselves, and with others, is innate, and if we work to push aside the societally driven, culturally manipulated “things” that get in the way of connecting, we are on our way to living an authentic, and purposeful life. Being an open book, sharing my journey, sometimes whether or not you asked, and sometimes a little TMI, has proven time and again that we are such similar creatures and have so much to offer each other. Through connection, we not only discover the lives and journeys of others, we also learn a lot about ourselves.
I have certainly had my moments, and sometimes 24-seemingly infinity hours, of living in fear in which I am paralyzed, and therefore lack direction, and action. In those days I forgive myself, I acknowledge and thank fear for letting me know something I didn’t know before, and I work to find my way back to faith.
I consciously make a choice to live in faith. I have faith in the process of becoming, and unbecoming who I am, figuring out my purpose and place in this world, pursuing a life I am meant to live, feeling all of my feelings, and enjoying it all.
Stick With It to BE self-love, Stick With it to RELEASE fear, Stick With It to BE whoever, and whatever your heart desires. Stick With It to allow yourself to live your best life. Stick With It in order to un-become who you were to make space for change and embark on a journey of becoming that will astound you.
A customer from England sent an incredible letter, card, and polaroid photos of where she placed her affirmations in her home!
Essay by: Jill Faulkner
These days you can find Jill at: Stick With It Co // Instagram // Facebook
Hi there!
I'm Catia, a woman, wife, mama, sister, sister friend, you know -- I wear a million hats just like you.
One of my biggest whys is that I want people to feel good about ALL of who they are. Including you.
The threads running through all my work (I wrote a book - The Courage to Become, I speak - TEDx #choosejoyordie, I coach, I mentor) are hope, joy and empowerment. I am all about big picture health and wellness.
If I could choose ten words that best describe me I would say: honest, welcoming, giving, curious, loving, earnest, empathetic, spiritual, playful, and sassy. Let's add: adventurous. That's 11.
Nice to meet you!
The Courage to Become Book
Want to start feeling really good but not sure where to start? Jump on into our virtual classroom (complimentary of course!) and get a weekly guide on how to walk with confidence and joy! You are divine. You are magic. I look forward to serving you!
Confidence + Joy Weekly Guide
The Courage to Become | Jessica Rockowitz Fielder
My name is Jessica Rockowitz, and I’m a mom of three – Hayley (13), Colin (4), and Graham (2). When people first meet me, I usually have one or both of my boys in tow. They’ll often ask if I have other children – I’ve admittedly grown fond of the looks on their faces depicting sheer shock and sometimes horror when I inform them that I also have a teenager.
“But you look far too young to have a teenager!” they exclaim, taken aback. I smile and nod, now accustomed to this song and dance – and so my story begins.
My path to motherhood was one that I unexpectedly embarked upon at the ripe age of 17. It wasn’t supposed to be this way. As a straight A student with dreams of an Ivy League school and a career in medicine, I was supposed to spend my junior year of high school studying for the SATs and flipping through college guide books – not scrambling for extra money so I could scour eBay listings for gently used baby items because I could barely afford to put gas in my car.
When I was about six months pregnant, my mom told me about a young parent program that her friend had heard about on the radio. The program was through a traditional four-year college that had about six spots for young, unmarried parents to live on campus with their children. The program also included room and board, a meal plan, and childcare for a very discounted rate. There was a catch, though – the program was located across the country from my mom and sister, who were a big part of my support system at the time. I was afraid that I’d be unable to raise my daughter without them, but I also knew this was our best shot at the life I envisioned for us. As silly as it sounds, I had dreams of a house with a playscape, Disney World vacations, and overnight camp. When Hayley was just shy of nine months old, I loaded her and our giant suitcase onto the plane to embark on what would be a truly life changing journey for us.
I wish I could detail everything that happened during those years at college, but that would be a novel in and of itself. I graduated college with a 3.9 and a BS degree in Biotechnology, accepting a research position at Harvard University for that coming fall. My daughter was almost six at the time and truly thriving, and I was getting married that winter.
I remember that the week I graduated college, I cut my Food Stamps card into tiny pieces, so proud that I would be able to stand on my own two feet. We signed the lease on a gorgeous apartment right outside of Boston in a safe, beautiful school district. We were financially and emotionally thriving – life was good, and we were happy.
Despite this, something gnawed at me and continuously stirred this feeling in my heart that I was unfulfilled. I beat myself up about this on a regular basis. What was wrong with me? Why wasn’t I satisfied with this beautiful life that I had worked so hard to create? I was always taught that the path to success looked something like this: attend the best college you can get into, land a great job, and work hard to climb up the career ladder. This was the linear path that I was on, so why was I so unhappy? I loved working with people and making a difference in their lives. In my current research position, this component of my passion was really lacking. On top of my work, I had been mentoring other teen parents and young moms for years, and it was a huge passion of mine. I told my husband that I wanted to go back to school to be an OB/GYN physician and work with young moms to educate and empower them. Life had other plans, though, and I decided to switch my career path from medicine to nursing in order to have a more flexible lifestyle because we wanted to grow our family.
Like always, I did my due diligence. I researched the best programs in the United States because just as my family had taught me, I wanted to strive for the best. I was accepted into and attended an Ivy League BSN/MSN Nursing Program. I was so proud of myself for getting in and worked hard to graduate and land what was my dream job at a low income OB/GYN clinic in downtown Philadelphia. I absolutely loved my patients. I was now a mom of two, and the working mom juggle was real. Still, I felt like I had reached an important milestone in my career and figured that the journey could only go up from here.
After a few months, that familiar feeling began to gnaw at me again as something stirred inside me and whispered, you’re not happy here. I found myself in tears on a daily basis and having a tough time getting out of bed each morning. I loved my job and my patients, but I couldn’t shake this perpetual feeling that something wasn’t right. What was wrong with me? I began to think that I was lazy and broken, and I just couldn’t figure out why I was feeling this pull to be away from what I had once again worked so hard to achieve.
While I was working in Philadelphia, I had also begun to dabble in the world of freelance writing. I signed up for a platform where I could find paying clients and began to take a deep dive into this space. I landed my first client for essentially pennies but was so thrilled that someone was paying me to write! I had always dreamt of being a writer and getting into marketing, but I was told that the world didn’t need more of us. It wasn’t lucrative or secure, and after all, I had a child to raise. Everyone persuaded me in the direction of stability, which equated to science and medicine. This was a huge reason why I had embarked on the path that I was on.
Now expecting our third (and last!) child together, my husband and I sat down one night when the kids were asleep. To this day, he still knows my heart more than anyone else in the world and is truly my best friend. He sensed that I felt the calling to not only be home for both of our kids, but to see where this career in writing could take me. I made the terrifying decision to leave the nursing profession that summer, when I was about 2 months pregnant with my now 2 year old. I never looked back, and so began my journey into the world of entrepreneurship.
----
As an adult and business owner who is constantly evolving and fine tuning my craft, I didn’t know what it meant to be an entrepreneur. From a young age, I was taught to work hard, go to college, and get a good paying job. There was no other path to success in life. It was no surprise that I felt completely broken when I didn’t fit that mold. I’d land amazing job after amazing job, only to feel empty several months into it, all passion and spark completely gone. I began to feel ashamed, and it took a huge toll on my self worth.
Now that I’m an adult, I realize all my feelings and emotions were due to the fact that quite simply, I was never meant to work for someone else. Knowing what I know now, I truly think sometimes that we are born as entrepreneurs but depending on the environment we grow up in, we don’t ever get the opportunity to realize it. Did you know that many intelligent, hard working entrepreneurs make some of the worst employees? We are the ones who have trouble with things like following authority and staying on task. I spent so much of my adult life believing that something was wrong with me, when really, I just wasn’t on the right path for me.
The most ironic part of this is that I work harder now for myself and my clients than I have in my entire life. I work more hours per week than my husband, and I love every crazy minute of it. This is what I was meant to do, but nobody had ever opened my eyes to the fact that there is an alternative to the traditional mindset of college and the corporate world.
I had always dreamt of being a writer and working in advertising and marketing, but I didn’t know what that looked like. When I left nursing, it was almost like the finality of the decision weighed heavily on my shoulders. I had just worked so hard and had gone into deep student debt for a degree I didn’t love. What did that say about me as a person? Where would I go from here?
Many people ask me how I got started in marketing since I don’t have a background in it. I was a marketing minor in college, but everything I learned then is obsolete now because of the rise of social media and digital marketing. The foundation remains the same, but the logistics are so different. When I first began freelance writing, a small start-up reached out to me and asked me to run their social media. Their premise was a safe, COPPA compliant social network for children. They offered me the position because in their words, “I was a good writer and also a mom, so I knew their audience.” Thinking that it could be a great opportunity, I took it. This was the tiny stepping stone that I needed to open bigger and better doors for myself. I was in the right place at the right time, and though the start-up ultimately failed, I then moved on to bigger and better clients who taught me even more about the incredible world of content strategy and social media marketing.
Today, I have my own digital media agency and work with clients that I love and admire. I have also recently gotten into photography and launched my own photography business that I think really compliments my agency and has sparked this newfound passion that I never knew existed. I’m so excited to see where it takes me.
I dedicate at least one hour per day to education, where I listen to podcasts, read articles, and improve my overall knowledge so I can best serve my clients and continue to grow. I have huge plans for my future and where I envision myself. Sometimes I find myself daydreaming about it, and it takes me back to those days where I thought that the only correct path in life was to choose a career from a handbook and spend your life inside that box. There’s nothing wrong with this, of course. As one of my close friends once told me, she watched her father own his own business and never have any boundaries, so she knew she wanted a position that she could walk away from at 5PM. There is so much happiness on both sides – it’s just about finding which side speaks to you, your passions, and your priorities.
Being a former teen parent, this transformation into who I am as a business owner and entrepreneur goes hand-in-hand with my transformation as a mother. I was so young when I had my daughter, and motherhood was not something I was welcomed into with open arms by those around me. In a way, I felt like I didn’t have permission to be happy and fulfilled in this role. I was supposed to struggle. It was supposed to be difficult. It wasn’t until I gave myself permission to be who I was – to leave a job that I had worked hard for, to have my second and third children – that I had the courage to really become the career woman and mom that I always felt I was meant to be, on my own terms.
I’m motivated each and every day by my family and by my desire to bring something unique and different to the world. I thrive on watching business owners reach their goals and fulfill their dreams. Being the one to help them get there is the most incredible and rewarding feeling that is almost indescribable. I no longer dread Mondays. In fact, I welcome them each week as I dive into my day’s work, able to drop it at a moment’s notice for a sick child or a school function. This is the life I dreamt of – and I’m living it.
I can’t sit here and pretend that it’s perfect, of course. I always joke that I have the best and worst of both worlds. It’s very true that I don’t have any boundaries. I work in early morning hours, late night hours, and on weekends. I work at nap time, bed time, and am guilty of using PBS Kids for a last minute sitter. Still, though, I wouldn’t change a thing. I have built this incredible lifestyle for myself, and I am so excited to see what’s next.
Here’s one thing I want young women everywhere to know –
there is no distinct path to success and happiness. It’s ok to be unsure about your future and what fuels you, even as an adult. It’s ok to feel fulfilled being a stay-at-home-mom, or not feel fulfilled as a stay-at-home-mom and know that you’re a better mom for your family when you work.
The path to joy is not linear, and you are not the victim of your own life.
If you want something, go out there and get it. There is enough for everyone, and don’t let any woman or person tear you down or talk you out of your dreams. Big risks can mean big failures, yes, but also big rewards – and is it ever a failure if we’re learning from it?
Essay by: Jessica Rockowitz Fielder
You can get in touch with Jessica here:
Jessica Rockowitz Photography Media Agency Facebook Instagram
Jessica captured this moment for us, and I love it!
Hi friend!
I'm Catia, a woman, wife, mama, sister, sister friend, you know -- I wear a million hats just like you.
One of my biggest whys is that I want people to feel good about ALL of who they are. Including you.
The threads running through all my work (I’m an author - The Courage to Become, I’m a motivational speaker - TEDx, Choose Joy or Die , I am a private coach ) are hope, joy and empowerment.
If I could choose ten words that best describe me I would say: honest, welcoming, giving, curious, loving, earnest, empathetic, spiritual, playful, and sassy. Let's add: adventurous. That's 11.
Nice to meet you!
Want to start feeling really good but not sure where to start? Jump on into our virtual classroom (complimentary of course!) and get a weekly guide on how to walk with confidence and joy! You are divine. You are magic. I look forward to serving you!
Confidence + Joy Weekly Guide
The Courage to Become | Kiema Rogers-Washington
The Before Photo
They say,“What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger! As a mother sometimes we don’t know how strong we are until our motherhood is threatened. We as women give so much of ourselves to people, taking a risk to love and possibly not receive the same in return.
I met my son’s father when I was 20 years old and he was 37. I’ve always attracted older men, so this was no surprise. I had an 8 month old and I was out of a job. I met him at a party in Houston and fell in love with him through conversation. After leaving the party, we kept in touch through Facebook. I felt my young heart falling for him more, especially since he was sending poems everyday. It wasn’t long after I moved to Houston with him. I know it may have seemed fast, but I had made up my mind in the short 3 weeks of our dating. I didn’t know that he was a felon, nor did I know that we would be living with his 92 year old father. I was taking a risk by leaving the comfort of my mother’s home to go live with a complete stranger!
Soon we settled in and he revealed to me that he was a felon and it would be hard for him to find a job. I thought it strange but, because I was so blinded by what I thought was love, I decided to stick with it and do what I needed to do to make it work. But there was still a question in my head that needed to be answered, “What was I getting myself into?”
Although skeptical, I decided to ignore that little voice in my head. After all, he did help take care of a child that wasn’t his. As time went on he became more and more controlling.
I also forgot to mention that his very pregnant ex girlfriend (at least that what he told me) was also living there because she had no place to go.
I couldn’t go certain places or talk to family members.
I finally found a job working at Pappa’s BBQ in Houston. It was right down the street from Reliant Stadium where the Texans played football. My mother had come to get my son to spend some quality time with us and also, it was easier for me to work without having to search for a babysitter.
Back at the house my boyfriend was getting angrier and we were fighting more. He had thrown me up against the wall and choked me down to the floor. He was calling me all kinds of bad names like B-tch, worthless, and the worst of them all, you’re a horrible mother.
I was only falling deeper and deeper into depression, I couldn’t tell my mother or my family for that matter, how much hell I was going through. I couldn’t tell them that he was hitting me. I couldn’t tell them that he had gotten so mad at me that he tried to run his car into an 18 wheeler with my then 3 year old son in the car.
I stayed because I knew he was a broken man, he needed help and I thought I would be the one to help him. You see I’ve learned in this journey called life is that when you’re damaged, you have a desire to help those around you, who are just as damaged as you. But as I stated before, I kept this secret for a while. I continued to live with him and I surely didn’t want to lose my job and move back in with my mother.
Fast forward to get the real reason my life began but also ended.
The very thing that would give any mother a reason to keep living. The night was quiet and I had just gotten off of work. I was tired and just wanted to sleep. An argument was started between the both of us and I opted to stop and not say anything. Like a lot of the other fights that began, it turned into a physical fight.
Some may say, “Why didn’t I call the police?” Well, being that I had called the police numerous times and no one came to the house or he would use his prison wit to get the police to believe his lies. One thing he could do so well, was to get me upset and play it cool with the authorities to be make it seem I was angry and deranged.
As we fought and argued, I decided to just stop talking because it was only making it worse.
He threw me down and raped me.
It was the worst feeling in the world!! I didn’t want my boy considering he was an ideal example of a father.
I kept my mouth shut!! I never told a soul what happened that night since I was already a victim of childhood molestation and no one believed me anyway. I felt helpless!!
Time went on and I found out I was pregnant. At the time we were broken up and I was working at another job, living with friends, and I didn’t want to look back.
Nine months went by and I gave birth to son. I had been so hurt and broken, that I thought about giving him up for adoption. But as a mother I couldn’t allow my son to be raised by complete strangers.
When someone has hurt as bad as this man had and raped you knowing that you didn’t want to have a child by him, what would you do?
I am a Christian and I don’t believe in abortion so I thought adoption would be best. I had a cesarean section and I knew my recovery would be hard and long. Soon after taking me home to his father’s home, he came up with this crazy excuse as to why he had to leave me and the baby alone. I was left alone at home by myself with a newborn baby to fend for myself. The only thing good that came out of that was his 92 year old father felt so bad for me that he gave me one of his cane to help me walk on. I was lonely, scared, and on top of that, fighting bed bugs that weren’t there before I went to the hospital to give birth.
But I kept pushing through the pain. A mother’s love besides the love of Christ is the greatest of them all! We have to thank God for being able to display that unconditional love to our and for our children. Eventually he came back to the house and of course I was still on my own considering the fact that he never really helped with anything.
Some more time had passed and we were living in our own place. He had left us once again and I had gotten used to it. We were living there a year but he had left and gone to live with another woman whom he promised while we were together that they were only friends. He had also recently gotten out of jail from spending a 4 months there, due to my mom writing a letter to Board of Pardons of Parol to tell them of the abuse that I had endured from his hand and mouth.
You see, sometimes life gives and opportunity to escape, but because we’re so brainwashed we find it hard to leave.
Some women ask, “Why didn’t you leave?”
It was so complicated!
Since my first son’s father wasn’t in his life I was trying to do the right thing by letting him be a part of our son’s life, regardless of the circumstances. See, I tried to give him a chance. Do the right thing!!
In July 2012, yet another argument and he grabbed our son and took him to the car. I ran outside after him. He locked the doors, backed up, let the windows down and yelled “Fuck you bitch I’ll see you in court!” Sorry to be so uncensored but that was the worse day of my life.
I tried putting him on child support and reaching out to him but nothing worked.
I received a letter in the mail stating that he was suing me for full custody and child support. Seriously? The nerve of him. I was taking care of our son and breastfeeding him.
I didn’t know where he lived so it was kind of hard to put and address on the child support papers I had filed before him. I was angry and scared.
The day was April 10, 2013. I had been in yet another abusive relationship and had gotten pregnant. I was 9 months pregnant with my third son when we were due in court.
I had gotten a lawyer and all he was had was his girlfriend. I had the emails where he called every name in the book except his child’s mother. Even armed with all of that, I was still ordered to pay $125 in child support. What?
I felt like it was over! How could I have visited my child when I didn’t know where he was living? The police kept telling me that it was a civil matter.
I was broken, poor, and pregnant. My mother held me in her arms so tightly as I shed my tears.
How could someone I thought I loved be so cruel. I was also ordered to have visitation every first, third, and fifth, weekend and some holidays. I was 23 years old and I was lost!!
Eight days later I gave birth to my third son and he took away some of the pain, but my heart still ached. My first visitation began the day I gave birth in the hospital. I was afraid my son wouldn’t recognize me. But when I got him he was different, he wasn’t smiling but pointing to everything instead of talking. I didn’t know what was going on at that house but I knew my child wasn’t the same. Years went by and months but nothing changed. I had tried to fight it in court two other times afterwards but was unsuccessful. And to think that now til this day he hasn’t brought him to see me nor he has he abided by the court order.
I never knew how strong I was until being strong was all I had. Until God was all I all I had.
Here I am in 2018, happily married to my best friend and I’m now a minister. There have been ups and downs but God has kept me through it all.
I am due back in court April 6 of this year. Keep me in your prayers.
My boys
This is for all the mother’s who’ve lost their children and who have lost their innocence. Those who can’t seem to leave. I know how scary it is to start over.
And to those family members that don’t understand, don’t give up on them, they need you, their children need you!
-Kiema Rogers-Washington
After
Essay by Kiema Rogers-Washington
Hi friend!
I'm Catia, a woman, wife, mama, sister, sister friend, you know -- I wear a million hats just like you.
One of my biggest whys is that I want people to feel good about ALL of who they are. Including you.
The threads running through all my work (I’m an author - The Courage to Become, I’m a motivational speaker - TEDx, Choose Joy or Die , I am a private coach ) are hope, joy and empowerment.
If I could choose ten words that best describe me I would say: honest, welcoming, giving, curious, loving, earnest, empathetic, spiritual, playful, and sassy. Let's add: adventurous. That's 11.
Nice to meet you!
Want to start feeling really good but not sure where to start? Jump on into our virtual classroom (complimentary of course!) and get a weekly guide on how to walk with confidence and joy! You are divine. You are magic. I look forward to serving you!
Confidence + Joy Weekly Guide
The Courage to Become | Frances Saldivar-Morales
Sisters, you never know what kind of impact you are having. Keep doing good work, being kind, staying steady. We don't have to preach, or gather a following or have a fancy business to make a difference. Do what your heart calls you to do, and do it well. That is plenty. The universe will do the rest.
Tonight, I want to share a letter with you. This landed in my inbox in March and I've been waiting to share it with you - to shine a light on Frances ( tonight's author) and also to remind you that you matter and YOU DO MAKE A DIFFERENCE.
When I wrote The Courage to Become, I had no idea who I would impact, seriously. But the more days go by, the more I realize my experience and my sharing and truth have impacted women and families that I never would have imagined.
Enjoy Frances' story. It's one of challenge and courage, grace and triumph.
---
Catia,
It truly was a pleasure meeting you at the book signing on Saturday. I didn’t expect to be overcome with so many emotions when we spoke, but I appreciate your kind words, warmth, patience and suggestion to email you. This gives me an opportunity to share how your book made a difference in my life—almost breaking down in tears aside.
I graduated from WHS in 2002, and although we never crossed words, I recall you being an upperclassman and drum major when I was a pacesetter. I immediately recognized your face about a year ago while scrolling through Facebook. Being from the same small town, we have several mutual friends on social media and one of them must have shared your page re: Confidence Revolution. Faith and positive/inspirational/motivational content have been my guiding light and driving force through tough times.
“Outgoing,” a word no one would have used to describe me! Growing up, I had a few close friends, and standing out would have been mortifying. I just wanted to study and earn good grades to go to college and earn a degree—all of which I did, not standing out. In 2007, at the age of 23, I had a Master of Science in Communication Sciences and Disorders and began a career as a Speech-Language Pathologist (SLP) in my home town. I accomplished a lot, and before I knew it, I had a career that paid well enough to live a comfortable life and help my parents. As a first generation Mexican-American, my drive stemmed from my parents’ hope that their children would get an education greater than what they had the opportunity to accomplish.
From 2010-2013, I experienced symptoms that my doctors could not put their finger on: shortness of breath, significant fatigue, a dry cough that just wouldn’t go away, and eventually, I began spitting up traces of blood when I coughed. During that time, I underwent multiple chest x-rays, allergy tests, TB tests, took allergy medications and used inhalers to no avail. In the fall of 2013, my now husband and I experienced a miscarriage. I was 7 weeks along when it happened. I know they say you experience shortness of breath during pregnancy, but it usually occurs much later in the process. During those 7 weeks, I felt my shortness of breath intensify. Working as a pediatric SLP, depending on my patients’ abilities, I’d plop on the floor with them, jump around, or carry them from one location to the next if they were infants. I couldn’t understand why I needed to catch my breath so often, even when talking—because, hello, that’s my bread and butter as an SLP—so early in the pregnancy.
If we were going to try to get pregnant again, we needed answers about my lungs. My family doctor decided to send me to a pulmonologist to get a high-resolution CT of the chest. One week before Christmas, on December 18, 2013, we got the answer: Lymphangioleiomyomatosis (LAM). I felt overwhelmed with emotions: shocked, sad, scared, and RELIEF—I finally had an answer! I was 29 years of age.
Is it my true belief that God had other plans for me. I always had that tunnel vision—work hard, earn a degree, make a difference in children’s lives, work, work, work. My career was MY THING; I worked my butt off to get there! In 2014, my LAM diagnosis progressed from a ‘mild’ to a ‘moderate-severe’ stage. I experienced 2 back-to-back right-lung collapses, invasive lung surgery, chest tubes, was on supplemental oxygen 24/7, began taking the only medication that could potentially slow LAM progression, and began consulting with Houston Methodist Lung Transplant Center. I had to leave my profession--MY THING. I have undergone much emotional and physical pain, but through this, I have learned to push my limits and to "stand out" for a reason. I have further explored the things I never thought I could do. I’m not completely there in terms of putting myself out there, but I AM evolving. I think it was God’s way of saying that there is SO MUCH MORE out there. It’s unfortunate that sometimes, the only way we step back to REALLY appreciate life is when we go through life-changing experiences. You know how they say, “What advice would you give to your younger self?” I think a more gratifying way is to SHARE your experiences with others before they ever go through any negative experiences in hopes that they will grip to something in your story and use it as a life lesson.
In “The Courage to Become,” you talked about leaving your career, making less money, and feeling less powerful and scared. I completely related with that. Before leaving my profession, I earned more than my husband and not once did it ever make me feel “more than” him. In fact, I felt we were equal. We both had a career in the healthcare field—we met at work—and I never had to ask him for money, nor did he to me. I took pride in being able to pay MY car, MY student loans, etc. on my own. It took an emotional toll on me and much, much time for me to come to terms with the fact that WE are a partnership. No matter what the situation, we will have each other’s back. I too feel blessed with “the one” I chose and that he chose me too.
LAM took a lot from me, but it has also opened so many doors. I have found other passions, including yoga, reading, considering adoption, and being an active advocate for myself and others living with LAM. Since diagnosis, family and friends have helped me host two LAM Awareness 5K’s in the RGV, and all proceeds went to The LAM Foundation to help fund research for a CURE. I had the opportunity to speak to a large room of LAM patients, family/friends, researchers and clinicians about my LAM diagnosis and hope for a cure at a LAMpoisum conference. I became a LAM co-liaison for my region and am a source of support for newly diagnosed patients and all those living with LAM in my region. My co-liaison and I host annual regional meetings for patients, family/friends and the medical community. I make it a point to speak to others about LAM because it truly takes a village to make this rare disease known—which is why I shared the LAM pamphlet with you. The more people that are aware, the more likely we are to find undiagnosed women to share hope with. I also take part in LAM research at the National Institutes of Health (NIH) in hopes of finding other treatment options and a cure in the near future.
In Chicago as I shared my LAM story with patients/family/friends, clinicians, and researchers.
Approved by and Photo Credit goes to Kelsey Adams: K- Adams Foto Photography taken at LAMposium
Many have complemented me on my positive outlook despite the circumstances. The reality is, we all have it in us, we just have to choose. Sometimes, we’re just blind to all that is in us because we get so caught up in our lives. You and other writers/speakers continue to motivate me to LOVE and LIVE intentionally. After reading your book, although we never met, I felt like I knew you, and you were that friend that you can speak so openly to—hence why I practically wrote my life story in this email—oops! Your genuine, raw accounts of experiences encourage others to stay motivated. The way you spoke about sisterhood has a deep-rooted connection in my heart, because that’s what LAM women call each other, "LAM sister.” A sister is someone you love dearly and want the best for; you have a connection, a bond. I could feel the love your poured into this book, and the guidance and inspiration you wanted to impart on those reading it! Thank you for the prayer at the end of the book. May you truly know your life had a ripple effect on mine.
Best regards,
Frances Saldivar-Morales
To find out more about LAM you find them here, on their home page and on Facebook.
Hi friend!
I'm Catia, a woman, wife, mama, sister, sister friend, you know -- I wear a million hats just like you.
One of my biggest whys is that I want people to feel good about ALL of who they are. Including you.
The threads running through all my work (I’m an author - The Courage to Become, I’m a motivational speaker - TEDx, Choose Joy or Die , I am a private coach ) are hope, joy and empowerment.
If I could choose ten words that best describe me I would say: honest, welcoming, giving, curious, loving, earnest, empathetic, spiritual, playful, and sassy. Let's add: adventurous. That's 11.
Nice to meet you!
Want to start feeling really good but not sure where to start? Jump on into our virtual classroom (complimentary of course!) and get a weekly guide on how to walk with confidence and joy! You are divine. You are magic. I look forward to serving you!
Confidence + Joy Weekly Guide
The Courage to Become | Shelly Weiser
I am originally from Louisiana and moved to Austin in 2011 for a change of scenery with the plans of going back home after a year or so. Three years later I bought my first house and I knew this was the place for me. I met my husband in 2010 we were married in 2011 and had an amazing little girl in 2013, followed by our super sweet son in 2014. Needless to say it was a whirlwind of five years, most of it spent just trying to survive the baby years. Now that my son is 3 and I have officially made it through that crazy time, I am realizing that I lost my self identity in the process and forgot that I was a woman and not just a mother.
Creating The Hive was basically me flying out of the tornado, raring to go!
THE HIVE
Coffee Shop + Co-working Space + Child Supervision + Beer & Wine = The Hive. Where you can be productive, or just be. The Hive is a brand new concept in South Austin offering parents and friends some much-needed time to get things done – whether working or just visiting with friends – while their little ones enjoy playing in a safe and fun on-site supervised area. We also have co working desks, a board room available, and a beautiful indoor and outdoor space perfect for meetings or just solo-working.
• What was one thing you always dreamt of doing, were afraid to do, but did anyway? (I can’t
really think of a good answer for this, but I guess this venture would qualify)
• How did it feel getting started?
When I first started this crazy journey it was exciting to say the least. It was something that I knew had to be done for so many reasons, for so many parents. I had absolutely no idea what I was doing but I thought to myself “someone has to do this, so why shouldn’t it be me?”.
• Tell us about some of the obstacles you faced when you got started.
My main obstacles we’re not having any idea what I was doing and figuring it out on a daily basis. While I love a challenge, doing it with two toddlers was almost too much of a challenge. There were plenty of days that I woke up and just wanted to stay in bed and hide from commercial leases and fire marshals and just go back to making macaroni necklaces with my kiddos. My amazing husband would help ground me and then kick me in the butt again and remind me that I am just as capable as anyone else to do this and that all of the hard times would totally be worth it.
• What motivates you?
My motivation is twofold: the first is to prove to myself that I can accomplish anything I put my mind to and to go to bed at night knowing that I kicked ass at something, even if that something was just catching up on a ton of emails or making it through the day with healthy happy kids, fed and (somewhat) clean.
My second motivation is actually my children. I know that this business will affect my family and our time together, but knowing that my children will see their mom kicking butt and doing something big will give them a positive example for when they’re older and facing that same potential struggle.
• Which living person do you most admire?
This might seem a bit cliché, but I truly admire my parents. My dad started his own business when I was very young, probably the same age as my daughter is now. Growing up watching him work so hard for what he wanted, while it meant that he sometimes had to work late at night or on the weekends, was such a great real life learning experience for me. To see him overcome struggles and continue the amazingly hard task of owning a small business was truly inspirational. My mom was extremely supportive of him, there by his side every step of the way. I know that she was out of her comfort zone as well (not necessarily by choice) but they pushed through together and made an amazing life for my brother and I, who are now both self employed. I’ve always pondered the nature versus nurture question, but feel that it is probably a bit of both. I hope to provide that same real-life example to my children so that they can see (and experience) that anything is possible if you put your mind to it.
• Which talent would you most like to have?
Hmmm, this is a tricky one. I’ve always thought it would be fun to have the talent of Barbara Eden in I Dream Of Jeannie. Can you imagine wiggling your nose and your kids have you eaten, taking a bath, and are in bed sound asleep? How amazing would that be?!?!
• What is your most marked characteristic?
I would honestly have to say my stubbornness. You didn’t ask for my best characteristic or worst characteristic so this covers both bases. If you’re talking to my husband about who loads the dishwasher the best, it may not be my best characteristic that he lists at the time. But in this endeavor, I think it has come in quite handy.
• What is your motto?
I haven’t given much thought to this but I would say at this moment in my life “just keep swimming, just keep swimming, just keep swimming”. You know you’re saying that in Dory’s voice right now. :)
• What are some things you are proud to have accomplished?
I look around at the amazing life that my husband and I have created, and I’m not sure you’d consider that an accomplishment but it is something that I am so thankful for everyday. Talk to me an a year and hopefully a will add opening The Hive to that answer.
• What keeps you going when you feel like you are knee deep in mud?
I will have to get back to you on that after I go respond to my 1,800 emails and then call the electrician, the accountant, and the caterer. Oh wait, what was the question?
In all seriousness, the only thing I can do is take it one minute at a time and know that every little tedious task will be worth it once The Hive is a well-oiled machine and I’ve accomplished exactly what it is I set out to do!
• What’s one piece of advice you’d give to women who are about to embark on the journey you are on?
Do ALL of your homework and make sure that you know 100-percent, or at least as much is possible, what you’re about to get yourself into. Be prepared for the days that you don’t want to get out of bed and be ready to pick yourself back up again when you get knocked down (isn’t there a song from the 90s about that???). Know that it will happen more than one time but nothing that is worth it will ever truly be easy. Just keep swimming, just keep swimming, just keep swimming. (you know you’re still singing that).
Hi friend!
I'm Catia, a woman, wife, mama, sister, sister friend, you know -- I wear a million hats just like you.
One of my biggest whys is that I want people to feel good about ALL of who they are. Including you.
The threads running through all my work (I’m an author - The Courage to Become, I’m a motivational speaker - TEDx, Choose Joy or Die , I am a private coach ) are hope, joy and empowerment.
If I could choose ten words that best describe me I would say: honest, welcoming, giving, curious, loving, earnest, empathetic, spiritual, playful, and sassy. Let's add: adventurous. That's 11.
Nice to meet you!
Want to start feeling really good but not sure where to start? Jump on into our virtual classroom (complimentary of course!) and get a weekly guide on how to walk with confidence and joy! You are divine. You are magic. I look forward to serving you!
Confidence + Joy Weekly Guide
The Courage to Become | Amy Wolff
My Courage of Becoming Grey || Essay by: Amy Wolff
My whole life I've craved security, comfort, safety, and predictability.
When I was young, my parents gave me an allowance with the clear expectation that I would give 10% to charity and put 10% into savings. The rest I could spend on whatever my heart desired (probably Polly Pockets). But every month I gave 10% away and hoarded the rest into savings. That's right, as a kid I opted out of 'fun' spending. I chose security.
Which also explains why I see things as black-and-white. Clear right and wrong. Neat and predictable. In my teens years this kept me out of a lot of trouble (you’re welcome, Mom and Dad!). As a rule-follower with an active Christian faith, boundaries were comforting, not restricting. I learned to easily navigate life within the walls of my morality.
But unfortunately walls that keep you safe also keep you isolated.
Over the last few years I’ve felt overwhelmingly defensive and misunderstood (particularly while scrolling through my social media feeds). I’ve been easily offended, often irritated, and if I were being honest, quick to judge. I’m surprised I don’t have permanent damage from all the eye-rolling I’ve done at articles, comments, or at headlines from particular news sources.
That’s what happens when you build walls; everyone on the outside becomes the unrelatable unreasonable other.
Surely this wasn’t loving my neighbors well - picking sides, shouting from soap boxes, and devaluing perspectives and opinions when they didn’t align with my own. It was exhausting and felt rotten. Something had to change, and it wasn’t the others. It was me.
This is my story of becoming grey.
I remember the moment the transformation started. Several years ago I was sitting on my bed scrolling through Facebook when I saw a friend share a video of two men, both gay, speaking at a Christian university. One was arguing that gay marriage is not in violation of God’s will. The other was arguing that acting on his sexual desires was in violation.
What amazed me was the respect these men had for each other. They were on opposing ends of a divisive and deeply personal issue and yet they still honored one another. Their talk included practical ideas of engaging in difficult conversations with people who disagree with you.
When the video ended, I sat there bewildered. Courage stirred.
That’s the day I started my journey of empathy - to understand and sincerely care about the others.
Shortly after committing to the journey, I met Lindsey, Missy and Patrick.
Lindsey: When the Black Lives Matter movement began, I decided that having an informed opinion on the issue required me, a white woman, to ask a person of color about their experiences and feelings. I looked around my friend group: there was none. I looked around my church: none. My community: none. So when I got into an Uber downtown Seattle on a work trip and noticed my driver was black, I asked if he’d be willing to share his perspective with me. It was brief but meaningful.
Eventually a more thorough, and to be honest more difficult, conversation happened with my new beautiful black friend, Lindsey, over dinner. I’m deeply grateful for her patience as she walked me through every hot-topic of racial tension (oh yes, hello white privilege). Because of this conversation over 6 months ago, I am slower to form opinions reading the news, more aware of my words and unconscious biases, and I’m less defensive.
Lindsey is not other.
Missy: Hard conversations continue, just yesterday in fact. I met a new friend Missy downtown Portland for lunch where much of our conversation was about abortion. She is pro-choice. I am pro-life. What does courage and empathy look like for us? We sat and listened to one another, even when it was hard. We asked questions out of sincere concern and curiosity.
When she chose empathy, she saw that I’m not a crazy conservative devaluing the heavy emotions and decisions of a woman with an unplanned pregnancy. I’m trying to protect a child’s right to live, as if it was outside the womb. When I chose empathy, I saw that Missy was not a crazy child-killer but a woman who deeply empathizes with the anguish of others – including women who are often denied critical medical care at pro-life institutions. In the end, she still protests and I still mourn lost babies but we will not villainize each other.
Missy is not other.
Patrick: All these conversations wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t met Patrick in October of 2016. I was referred to Patrick after I had an uncomfortable experience with a client (I didn’t know what pronoun to use because I couldn’t identify their gender). Patrick was highly educated on the topics of sexuality and gender so we met for a quick meeting in a quaint coffee shop (it’s Portland, after all). Thirty minutes into our conversation, Patrick told me he was gender queer. I didn’t know what that meant so awkwardly, yet sincerely, I asked him. He was specific. He was patient. He was honest. Then he sought to understand me.
While the conversation was insightful, it was something Patrick said right before we left that struck me.
We have solidarity.
He explained, my challenge to be an authentic Bible-believing Christ-follower in liberal Portland was similar to his challenge to be authentically gender queer in a world that didn’t hold space for him. We’ve both felt misunderstood. We’ve both felt judged. But more importantly, we both share humanity and the deep desire to be loved and heard.
Solidarity.
We are more similar than we are different.
Patrick is not other.
This has been my anthem as I wade into new uncomfortable conversations. When I’m tempted to feel flustered or get defensive, I’m reminded that deep down, we want the same things. We want to be loved. We want to be safe. We want to be understood. We want to belong.
I confess, I still prefer things cut and dry. There are still non-negotiable black-and-white areas in my life, like my belief in God. Honoring Him is still my life-pursuit. But on specific issues, I was afraid that loving well meant compromising my beliefs. Or vice-versa, that being devoted to beliefs meant that I couldn’t generously love people who believed and lived differently. But I was wrong.
I have found that there are very few things that are black-and-white.
Most of life exists in the messy undefined middle, where there are diverse experiences, different perspectives, and deep emotions. This journey of becoming grey has been incredibly insightful and liberating for me. I’m not mad every time I open Facebook (it’s a modern-day miracle!).
It’s not comfortable. It’s not safe. It’s not predictable. It requires courage to engage when it would be so much easier to stay within our familiar walls with agreeable people. But we can do hard things.
Instead of judging others, we can choose solidarity.
We can lean into the grey together.
Essay by: Amy Wolff
Connect with Amy on her blog and at her passion project - Don't Give Up Signs Movement.
Hi friend!
I'm Catia, a woman, wife, mama, sister, sister friend, you know -- I wear a million hats just like you.
One of my biggest whys is that I want people to feel good about ALL of who they are. Including you.
The threads running through all my work (I’m an author - The Courage to Become, I’m a motivational speaker - TEDx, Choose Joy or Die , I am a private coach ) are hope, joy and empowerment.
If I could choose ten words that best describe me I would say: honest, welcoming, giving, curious, loving, earnest, empathetic, spiritual, playful, and sassy. Let's add: adventurous. That's 11.
Nice to meet you!
Want to start feeling really good but not sure where to start? Jump on into our virtual classroom (complimentary of course!) and get a weekly guide on how to walk with confidence and joy! You are divine. You are magic. I look forward to serving you!
Confidence + Joy Weekly Guide
The Courage to Become | Laura V. Tolin
Fearless in the Face of Uncertainty
Before I launch into this crazy true story of mine, there are a few things you need to know about me. First: I’m a planner. I believe more things get done, and are done better, when you plan for them. I’m the kid who, for the middle school band trip to Disney World, created a full-color info graphic for her friends to decide what rides were top-priority and to get everyone excited about all the planned activities we were going to do (much to everyone’s chagrin).
Second: I believe, despite perfect planning, our attitude and current environment impact what ultimately happens. Even deeper than that, I believe there are many realities possible in a single moment. That moment right before you have a car crash? It’s been preceded by all the moments in your entire life that have lead you to this singular reality. Think about that for a minute: every. Single. Action. Sound “woo-woo” enough? Maybe by the end of my story, you’ll come around to this idea.
Lastly, you should know I’m a mom of two living in Austin, TX since 2008 with my husband of 9 years. Our kids are 2 and (almost) 5, we have a dog and a cat and a beautiful house on a very quiet street. I’m originally from a small town of about 3,000 people in West Tennessee called Somerville, and my parents are still there, living in my great-grandmother’s Greek Revival-style house on Main Street.
I have a Bachelor’s in English and a Master’s in Theatre/Playwriting. I tried to plan my life out so that I would never do anything but write. But life had other plans for me: kids, cars, houses, travel, living far from family – things that require me to hold a full-time job that makes steady money. So, I’ve been a conference coordinator for the last 10 years, and it’s given me financial abundance with which to live my life.
But something was always missing. Even though I have so much, and am so blessed, I felt restless. I want adventure, in the deep core of me. This comes from spontaneity, which is something that doesn’t come naturally to a planner. I have a deep existential desire to experience transformation.
Two years ago, I would never have done the things I’ve done today. I wouldn’t have been as brave. But here I am, ready to tell you the impossible true story of something that happened to me in 2016 that changed my outlook on life forever. Something that encouraged me to be fearless in the face of uncertainty. It was a “lightning moment” that shocked me into a new reality. May it give you hope that your own moment could happen at any time.
PART ONE: The Choice
I stared through the foggy window of my mother’s guest bedroom, just before 9am on Wednesday, February 10, 2016, at a small, unassuming Cruise America RV that was parked across the street by the abandoned elementary school. It was unusually cold outside, and I was exhausted. Just the day before, around 4pm, I had made the decision to pack up myself, my husband, our three-year-old daughter and barely three-month-old son, into our Honda for a thirteen-hour-drive to make it here.
Because Billy Corgan of the Smashing Pumpkins said he’d be at my mom’s house at 9am.
The day before this fateful morning, I was out and about with my baby Eli. I was still on maternity leave, and my time was my own. I went to HomeGoods and bought some candles. I snagged a grande vanilla latte. I got some lunch at P. Terry’s Burger Stand. The week before, I was having lunch with my husband and baby in tow at a little Mexican place, and there amid the queso and enchiladas, I told him about Billy Corgan and how he was driving around the country to interview people about the “American Dream.” In my fantasy-land of maternity leave boredom, I had written a nice, concise response to Billy’s website’s contact form, suggesting they go to my mom’s house in Tennessee because she has a lot of cool antiques that I knew Billy would like. I put my contact info in the form, hit send, and forgot about it.
On this particular day, I didn’t check my email until I got home, which is unusual for me as I’m often glued to my phone. When I sat down at my computer, I saw a notification on Facebook. Billy’s most recent live video popped up, and lo and behold I watched him walk the train tracks of Selmer, TN – a small town very near my own small hometown of Somerville. He was snapping pictures of the tracks and abandoned buildings with his friend, long-bearded and brainy pro-wrestler Jocephus Hudson. I couldn’t believe they were so close to “home.”
My son, Eli, was still sleeping in his carseat, so I continued browsing and checked my email. And there it was: the subject line read “Is anyone available?” It was from Justin, Billy’s friend, and it read:
Hi Laura,
Would love to know what the availability is of doing interviews in Somerville today or tomorrow if possible. Could you provide me with a contact number for you or your relatives?
Respectfully, Justin
I did a double, triple, quadruple-take.
It was almost 4pm. It was a Tuesday.
At this very moment, I had a choice to make. At this very moment, there were a dozen realities swirling in the ethereal sea above my head, waiting to see which one I would choose.
So, I called my mom. That was the first step, right?! Mom had to be on board with them coming to her house. My heart was racing. Mom picked up, and I explained feverishly what was happening. Eli stirred in his car seat. He would be awake soon. Mom knew who Billy was, due to my teenage obsession, and she screamed a teen-idol scream. She said yes, of course they could come, but what on Earth…?! So I hung up and responded to Justin, giving them my Mom’s number.
I live in Austin, TX, and Somerville, TN is almost a 13-hour drive away. My planner brain kicked in, and I started to do the math. Meanwhile, Justin called my mom, and she graciously said she needed to “vacuum” before they came over, to which he laughed. And they said not to worry - they’d come tomorrow morning, around 9am.
My mom told me the details and I started going through scenarios. Not only did I have a three-month-old, but I also had a three-year-old, and a husband with a job. I could take Eli with me and spring for a last-minute flight. But who knows if we’d make it on time.
Then I made the craziest decision I’ve ever made.
I decided that we needed to drive there.
PART 2: The Visit
I called my husband, who was a high school teacher at the time. He was just getting out of school to go pick up our daughter from daycare. I tried to explain what was going on. Luckily, he already knew I’d submitted that form last week so I didn’t have to explain much. David listened calmly. It was around 5pm. I asked him, ultimately, “what should I do?” After a few moments of contemplation, he said he’d bring Nora home, and we would drive.
Holy. Shit.
I immediately threw diapers, clothes, and food into suitcases. I didn’t have time to pick and choose, I just had to throw things in. Eli was awake at this point, and started crying to get out of his seat, so I obliged him and, holding him, continued working. I sat down to breastfeed him right before David arrived home with Nora.
We made the necessary pet arrangements. I called my friend Becca, who was in the middle of getting her hair colored, to tell her to “stop everything, Billy Corgan is going to my mom’s house,” and would she take care of my cat? My mystified friend said, “Ok?!” Then, we dropped the dog off at our local boarding place.
We loaded up and left at 6pm – in the height of Austin traffic. We could barely make it out of the city and I worried we had missed our window of getting there on time. Eventually, we did make it out, and committed to the long drive.
At 10pm, both kids were melting down. Nora asked why we were going to NaNa’s house and said she didn’t want to go anymore. Eli just wanted to be held. We calmed them down, gave them some food (and milk), and eventually, they fell asleep. We pushed on through the night. I had to wear headphones blasting electronic dance music at full volume so I wouldn’t fall asleep and wouldn’t wake the kids. I had to take breaks to interact with the breast-pump and try to feed Eli as well. It was madness, but we made it. We arrived at 7am – 13 hours after we hit the road. Any later, and we would have missed the whole thing.
Eli was still sleeping when we entered my mom’s house. I took the world’s fastest shower and tried to do my makeup. I was more tired than I’ve ever been, but I was running on adrenaline. I didn’t even know if Billy would come. I didn’t even know if this was real. My mind cooked up a whirlwind of scenarios. What if they were just coming to make fun of us? I mean, what if they weren’t nice people, what if this was going to be an awful experience? What if my teenage idol didn’t “like” me or acknowledge me or if I didn’t ask the right questions, or look good enough?
Thankfully, I didn’t dwell on those thoughts in that moment. There were so many unknowns, my head was swimming, but the exhaustion didn’t allow me to fully feel the fear. All I thought was, “Will he show up? Will they really show up?”
Little did I know what was going to happen next.
At 9am on the dot, the RV parked across the street by the abandoned elementary school. Eli was sleeping and Nora was happily playing with my parents. David and I watched as Billy and his two friends, all impossibly tall dudes, stepped out of the RV and rounded the big wraparound porch to the front of my mother’s house. David checked in with me, “Are you ready for this?” Bleary-eyed, more tired than I’d ever been, I smiled, and my Dad opened the door for them to walk through.
I want to stop here and say this: I could have done anything in that moment. I could have exploded into tears. I could have hidden in a corner. But I stood there, faced Billy like he was a normal person, and shook his hand. We explained that we drove through the night, and he was impressed. What followed was Billy Corgan walking around my childhood home, admiring my mom’s myriad collection of antiques, looking into my childhood bedroom (what?!), sitting upstairs in our informal den and talking to us about his film project.
Holy. Shit, y’all.
He interviewed my mom and I sat on the stairs and listened. Then, he asked me to come over and interview with him, too. He asked me questions that I had ALWAYS needed to be asked by someone – let alone by my favorite rock star. I can’t divulge much here as we signed a nondisclosure agreement (whoa!) but I will say, it was a lot about my upbringing and my hopes for the future. I told Billy that he was hitting so many huge questions for me, and at the end of the interview, I cried, and he hugged me.
After the interviews, Justin suggested that we all take photos, so I have photographic evidence, y’all – and videos. Billy even stepped into the living room and played the piano with my daughter.
The visit lasted about two and a half hours. When they packed up and were all done, I went immediately to lie down on the couch and just let everything go. I knew this was something epic, but I had no idea what it “meant” or even how to process it! I messaged my old high school friend on Facebook and we met the next day for coffee in midtown Memphis. I showed him the photos and videos and it was so surreal. But even more surreal was seeing him and talking to him after fifteen years of very little contact. It’s amazing what these big moments in life will make a person do.
We stayed at my mom’s house an extra day and then we had to pack it up for the long drive home. I was more thankful for my parents in ways I have never been before.
You see, every single moment in my life had led me to this moment. If anything at all had been different, I wouldn’t have been able to make this journey and have this experience.
PART 3: Returning Home
It was close to Valentine’s Day and I had already booked a “crazy” trip to Houston for us to see a Cirque du Soleil show and stay in a hotel for the first time with kids – little did I know that we would be driving back to Texas from the craziest trip of our lives. On Friday, we landed at the Houston hotel and crashed. Staying in a hotel with two little ones and seeing the Cirque show was easy compared to what had just happened. I kept the experience quiet on social media and tried to process it throughout our little weekend together.
We finally made it home on Sunday and I can only describe the feeling as that sinking emotion you feel after you’ve planned a wedding and it’s over: you get to the highest heights and then there is nothing left.
After I became a mother, I felt like a lot of “what if” doors closed for me. What if I wanted to sleep in ‘til noon and have no one bother me? What if my husband and I want to stay out ‘til 2am at a concert? What if I wanted to just pack up and go on a trip one day? What if I wanted to devote all my free time to writing and writing and writing? I thought all of these what if’s were now impossible. But now I see that nothing is impossible, especially with children – with enough consideration, they can come along for the ride, or they can be left safely with someone else, or they can be right in the mix of everything. Adulting can be super hard, but we can’t let this life get to us. We have no idea what the next day will bring.
Since my experience, I have said “yes” to so many things in life and have received a resounding “thank you, here’s more!” from the universe. Maybe It’s all about perspective, but I have asked the universe to bring me exciting opportunities and it has delivered. That’s not to say that I don’t plan out these things, I most definitely do, but I am less afraid to do them now. I am not afraid to ask for what I want and what I need.
It’s only when you are knee-deep in uncertainty that you can make that giant leap forward. When you’re unable to think, and there are so many thoughts swirling... When everything you’ve ever done or known is staring you in the face and telling you that you need to back down – but instead, you rise up. I can only liken it to giving birth – pushing past that point of complete uncomfortableness, to appear on the other end with a tremendous sense of relief and a new life in your hands. We birth ourselves again and again in this life, moving inward and searching, being challenged outside, and finally emerging as something new.
There are so many factors that go into getting a person somewhere - physically, mentally, emotionally. Every single thing you do takes concerted effort. Pat yourself on the back for the little things and keep plugging away, because one day that “big” moment will come along and you’ve got to be ready. If any one thing had been different in my life – my job, my husband (how amazing that he helped me get there!), my kids, my parents, even the place where I grew up, my actual mother’s house, my physical wellbeing that day - ANY one thing, I would not have gotten to experience this. The experience itself was great, but the getting there was the epic part. The getting there was the adventure. And afterwards, now, is the new world created by it.
Hi friend!
I'm Catia, a woman, wife, mama, sister, sister friend, you know -- I wear a million hats just like you.
One of my biggest whys is that I want people to feel good about ALL of who they are. Including you.
The threads running through all my work (I’m an author - The Courage to Become, I’m a motivational speaker - TEDx, Choose Joy or Die , I am a private coach ) are hope, joy and empowerment.
If I could choose ten words that best describe me I would say: honest, welcoming, giving, curious, loving, earnest, empathetic, spiritual, playful, and sassy. Let's add: adventurous. That's 11.
Nice to meet you!
Want to start feeling really good but not sure where to start? Jump on into our virtual classroom (complimentary of course!) and get a weekly guide on how to walk with confidence and joy! You are divine. You are magic. I look forward to serving you!
Confidence + Joy Weekly Guide