Story.
I began telling stories and public speaking eight years ago, after meeting The Stability Network (TSN) at a conference they held in San Francisco. TSN found people with lived experience living stable and healthy lives to speak publicly to raise awareness, reduce stigma and advocate for safer workplaces.
Although I had known about them for years, I was too afraid to talk about my mental health. Then I heard one of their speaker coaches, a stand-up comedian, tell his story at the conference. I was inspired. You’re going to teach me to tell my story like that?
I joined their team and never looked back.
Pretty soon I met John Capecci from Living Proof Advocacy and learned “The Five Qualities of Well-Told Advocacy Stories” as I worked on a keynote. John liked my process so much, he put me in Chapter Three of his book, Living Proof, Telling Your Story to Make a Difference, co-written with Timothy Cage.
I talk about when I revealed my diagnosis to my managers at a top investment firm, collaborating on accommodations that made all the difference. My best of 19 years at the company followed.
The story is an example of building safe workplaces where “twice gifted” employees can (carefully) come out of the closet in Corporate America.
Colleagues in workplaces thrive with genuine camaraderie and teamwork. Companies spend millions on staff events and retreats beyond the annual holiday party.
Yet, you can’t be authentically connected if you are hiding. Not to mention you won’t be able to hide for long. A secret as big as this one is impossible to keep.
One supportive colleague or manager can make all the difference. Overnight HR’s “problem child” becomes a favorite. Truly great things can happen for an employee and their firm. I’m living proof.
Will.
He’s the horse in my stable. The will in my way. Literally. I’m grateful for the grounding he brings to my days. “You finally got your horse!” a childhood neighbor exclaimed.
Growing up in a predominantly white suburb of Albany, New York, I was the skinny brown girl with the funny name. Kids liked to tease, but the horses didn’t care. I spent summers hanging out at the barn. Whether I rode or not didn’t matter. I loved being there with them.
Not everyone is as passionate about horses. They smell, they crap everywhere, they’re dangerous, not to mention expensive. Don’t I know it! I’m “horse poor” like other “healthy not wealthy” horse owners I know. Let’s start a movement: Make Equine Therapy Anywhere. Just like the good old days.
Every year countless dollars are spent worldwide on wellness. Stability is widely sought after. Medicines certainly help, often with side effects. There’s always another drug to try. Let’s face it, the journey to wellness is costly and grueling. It’s such hard work — we need to play hard too!
What fills your tank? Gets you out of bed or off the couch? Don’t know? Start looking. Find your Will and you will find your way. It’s a promise.
Way.
At 21 years old I made a radical decision. A week later I was baptized into Jesus Christ by a small group of new friends I had met on campus at Georgetown University.
I was a Sophomore studying in the prestigious Walsh School of Foreign Service and up until that point in time I had been an atheist. After studying a few years earlier about the havoc Christian missionaries in Africa had caused, I often declared that of all the world religions I might adopt, “Christianity will never be one of them.”
Never say never. Two years later, I graduated a healthy, happy “Ambassador of Christ.”
To say my “conversion” raised some eyebrows would be a gross understatement. The Cult Awareness Network (CAN) was notified and my parents were strongly encouraged to bring me home.
I was baffled. A young woman who two years prior could not get out of bed, home on a medical leave, was now living a life full of joy and purpose, on the Dean’s List, surrounded by community and true friends. “I was lost and now I’m found, was blind and now I see!” I’m smiling as I write this. In hindsight I get it.
Decades later, mental stability and spiritual recovery have given me the balance and wisdom I sorely lacked in my twenties. Yet, without that original decision and the path it put me on, I am certain I would not be alive today.
My Jesuit professors of Theology at Georgetown would be very happy to know I now believe in a benevolent, caring and inclusive God of grace and wisdom and love. This faith in a God who lives in all who truly believe is not a departure from my Christian faith but the fulfillment of it.
God doesn’t care what we call, only that we call and call often.
“This is the way.” - The Mandalorian
Supporting your family, friends and colleagues isn’t easy, yet we know it makes all the difference.
How can life be abundant? How can friends and partners be helpful? How can we help our colleagues and employees to thrive? Our loved ones reach their potential?
There is much to gain from hearing someone bravely share their lived experience with mental health and recovery.
Too many heroes are hiding in the closet. Hearing my story could make all the difference for someone.
Reinhardt Redwood Regional Park, Oakland, California