Transformation stories are always appealing.
Whether they’re about an underdog who beats the odds, dramatic weight loss, or bitter curmudgeons who find hope and healing, we love seeing people experience positive change, and believing we can, too. The challenge, however, is that those stories are often told after the fact, glossing over the pothole-choked road to change in favor of a glossy montage that truncates years of hard work.
This is why I strive to be open and transparent in every conversation. You never know how sharing your experience will impact another. For example, October marks three years since my husband took his life.Thirty-six months gathering the shards of what I thought my life should be, and beginning the painful process of rebuilding.
I share this for two reasons. One, because there should be no shame surrounding suicide. His choice was not mine, and though it feels heavy at times, the more I talk about suicide, the more I discover others walking similar paths, hiding their stories in the dark. It’s time to turn on the light—speaking up saves lives.
Two, because this issue is all about embracing change. Changing seasons, changing perspectives, changing relationships. For me, the woman I see in the mirror today is wildly more courageous, yet more vulnerable than ever before. Humble, yet hopeful. Vibrant and kind. Adventurous and resilient. And last month, she fell in love. Let me tell you, no one is more surprised than I to have discovered my person, an unexpected, delightfully complex treasure of a man.
And yet the hard truth here is that real change is not a spectator sport. Hollywood may be able to edit three years of effort into a beautiful, one-minute montage set to some Swifty soundtrack, but don’t be fooled. You don’t walk into new things by sitting on the sidelines and avoiding the work. Consider Charlie and Faye Roper, a father-daughter duo whose unique passion for color challenged cultural norms. Or Sara Lauren, whose treehouse group upends cannabis stereotypes among moms and professionals. Or even the City of Winter Garden, whose renaissance could only come to fruition through hard-fought change.
The hard road in all these stories—theirs, mine, yours—is deciding to do the work, to take the risk. Change is bound to be slow-moving. All good and lasting change is. Stop cutting yourself off from the kind of life you want to live and start building it, brick by brick.
