I’ll never forget that moment. I felt so weak, so alone, so incapable, broken, and lost. I sat outside in a wicker patio chair and stared into the horizon, wondering, Where did it go wrong? What happened? The tears were unstoppable. I crumbled.
The people who loved me feared and questioned what had happened. I had become so good at pretending everything was fine, that they were shocked when one day I was fine and the next I was barely able to get out of bed.
It was the beginning of the beginning of a total meltdown.
You see, up to that point, I believed in more for my husband than I did for myself. After he sustained injuries that took his eyesight while serving our country, I helped him build a very successful speaking business. I also helped him continue his service on active duty, get promoted, move nine times in ten years, start new jobs, write a book, get an MBA, and recover from a life-threatening injury. We had three kids, and it was up to me to take on all the household duties that my blind husband couldn’t do anymore. My life was a cycle of school drop-offs, business meetings, airport runs, and running the side of our business Scotty couldn’t; it was a cycle of pouring out and getting nothing poured back in.
I look at those years and see that I was running on empty, but you know what? I am truly glad I went through it. Through that pain, God revealed something to me that I needed to know to achieve big things. God showed me the power of prayer, the power of audacious goals, and the power of the words you speak over your life.
For the better half of a decade, I spoke truth, hope, and life into my husband. I believed with all my heart that he could do anything that he put his mind to—be a speaker, an author, a teacher—and boy did God show up big time! But I did not believe that promise for myself.
In the end, I had to be broken, for it was in my brokenness that my real journey began. The brokenness of my own life and the future I lost with that car bomb on April 6, 2005. I grieved and I cried and I wondered if I could claim those big promises I saw for Scotty for myself? All I knew for sure was that it couldn’t go on the way it was.
The road to recovery was a journey of a million steps, conversations, prayers, and words spoken over my life, but the first step was just believing and beginning. I started to believe for myself that I could achieve those big goals. I started to see my worth, my unique gifts, and talents—and I wanted to express them. I wanted more women to feel safe sharing their stories, and I began to realize that my journey, though filled with tragedy and heartbreak, was not all that different from others.
I started to see purpose in my pain, but I still wanted more. Not just for myself, but for all women. As women, we don’t have to fit in a box or live a “should” life. God created us to leave our unique fingerprint on the world, and He gives us the tools we need to do what He calls us to. My passion to share, to speak and to connect with women has led me to starting More Than Me. It is a movement. It is a cause. It is a call to women everywhere to step into their unique purpose.
So whether you’re in the middle of your own breakdown, whether you’re struggling to see your worth, or you just know you have a purpose you’re not fulfilling, More Than Me is for you.
I’m here to prove to every single woman who has ever felt alone that together, we are more.
Join me—we’re going to move mountains. Find out more here: www.morethanme.com