From Fear to Forward: Turning Trauma into Purposeful Action
“Get the book done.”
Those were the words my dad said to me every time we saw each other in what turned out to be the final six months of his life.
He meant it literally—he wanted me to finish writing the book I had been working on. But over time, I’ve realized he also meant it figuratively:
Finish what you start. Step into your purpose. Don’t let fear hold you back.
It’s been almost four years since he passed away, and I’ve not only published that book—
I’MPOSSIBLE: Life Lessons on Thriving with a Disability—but followed it up with another:
I’MPOSSIBLE JOURNEY: Finding Treasure in the Midst of Grief.
And I know there’s more to come.
“Do. Or do not. There is no try.”
My dad’s words echo in my mind more than ever. He was a Star Wars fan through and through, and one of his favorite quotes—often mimicked in his best Yoda voice—was that one.
Since his passing, that quote hits different. Dad was my North Star. Without him, I’ve wrestled with fear, indecision, and the silence where his guidance used to be.
But I’ve also found new courage in his memory—and turned the challenges I’ve faced into fuel for the work I do supporting others.
A Childhood Encounter with Fear:
The Ford’s Theatre Story
One of my earliest memories of fear dates back to when I was just four years old.
My parents and I were sightseeing in Washington, D.C., and we stopped at Ford’s Theatre—the site of President Abraham Lincoln’s assassination.
I grew up in the Land of Lincoln, so the story of John Wilkes Booth was deeply imprinted in my mind. It felt real, recent, and terrifying.
So terrifying, in fact, that before entering the theater, I insisted my mom go in first to make sure it was “safe.”
When she gave me the all-clear, I cautiously stepped in—tightly sandwiched between both parents.
When we made it out unscathed, I was so relieved I celebrated with ice cream.
At face value, this might sound like a funny childhood anecdote—but it was rooted in something deeper.
Trauma Leaves a Lasting Mark
I was born prematurely and diagnosed with cerebral palsy.
Instead of being placed in my mother’s arms at birth, I was transferred to a neonatal intensive care unit at another hospital.
My first sounds weren’t of comfort but of machines and urgent voices. Bright lights, needles, and separation from the only people I knew—my parents.
Those first moments of disconnection and chaos left a mark.
Fear has never been a stranger to me—it’s been a lifelong companion I’ve had to learn to manage.
The Ford’s Theatre story? It’s more than a childhood quirk—it’s a snapshot of how trauma lingers and shapes us.
Fear, Grief, and the Need for Control
Everyone wrestles with fear at some point. But for those of us who’ve had our sense of safety disrupted—by disability, grief, trauma, or loss—fear can feel more intense, more persuasive.
It whispers worst-case scenarios.
It convinces us that staying put is safer than stepping forward.
After losing my dad, those whispers grew louder.
Without him, I felt like I had lost not just a person, but a compass.
But here’s what I’ve learned:
Grief and growth aren’t opposites—they often coexist.
My grief pushed me deeper into reflection.
It revealed hidden reserves of strength.
It taught me how to coach others through their valleys—because I’ve been there too.
The Power of Perspective: What My Clients Teach Me
Today, I work with individuals and families—many navigating their own challenges:
Disability.
Transition.
Grief.
Identity.
Purpose.
And I’ve discovered something powerful:
People don’t need all the answers. They need space. They need someone who gets it.
Because I’ve battled fear—personally and profoundly—I can help others do the same.
Like my dad, I believe in creating safe spaces for people to explore what's possible.
Reflections:
Questions to Help You Navigate Fear and Find Purpose
Fear may always be part of the journey—but it doesn’t have to drive.
Whether you’re facing a transition, grieving a loved one, or simply wrestling with uncertainty, take a moment with these questions:
1. What good possibilities have you imagined or dreamed of?
Have you ever envisioned something more—but dismissed it as too risky, unrealistic, or “not for someone like me”?
2. What have you avoided out of fear?
Is there a conversation, leap of faith, or creative project you’ve been putting off?
3. What is at the root of that fear?
Fear often wears the mask of logic or caution—but beneath it might be a deeper wound.
4. Recall a time when you moved forward despite fear.
What helped you take that step? What did you learn?
My Mission: Helping Others Move from “Impossible” to “I’m Possible”
I named my first book I’MPOSSIBLE for a reason.
It reflects my belief that possibility is born not in the absence of struggle, but in the middle of it.
That belief fuels the heart of my coaching and speaking.
I help people shift from:
Fear-based to hope-filled thinking
“I can’t” to “Maybe I can”
Stuck to empowered
We can carry grief and still build lives full of meaning, joy, and purpose.
That’s what I’ve chosen to do.
That’s what I help others do.
And that’s what my dad would want me to keep doing.
Final Thought: What Will You Do With Your Story?
If you’ve read this far, there’s a reason this message resonates with you.
Maybe you’re in a season of grief.
Maybe you’re trying to “get the book done”—whatever that looks like for you.
So I’ll pass my dad’s words on to you:
“Get the book done.”
Start the thing.
Take the step.
Don’t wait until you feel fully ready.
You may not get another chance.
And maybe—just maybe—the story you’re afraid to step into…
will be the one that changes everything.
Want to go deeper?
Check out more of DreamingMadeSimple.com to learn more or order a signed copy of my book.
Or find I’MPOSSIBLE JOURNEY: Finding Treasure in the Midst of Grief on Amazon.
Let’s keep moving forward—together.