I live what I like to call a brutally beautiful life.

What that means to me is that while I have experienced profound hardships, as many of you have, I’ve found that by opening my heart to the pain, and letting love fill the cracks in my heart, I have actually grown stronger,& have found such joy and happiness despite the brutal moments this life has given me.

One of my first memories of this comes from when I was 8/9 years old. I am sitting on the dewy grass in the hills of North Carolina looking for four-leaf clovers. I am lost in my own world when I am instantly thrust into reality as I faintly hear “heads up” and I turn to see a soccer ball coming straight for me than my father's hand as he saves me from the direct hit of the soccer ball. I look up at my father, my hero at that young age and he smiles at me and then throws the ball back to the players. Little did I know that this would be the last time I would see my father whole and happy.

My father went back to his lawn chair and cheered for my brother and his soccer team.

I went back to my clover hunt for a few but it had lost its intrigue so I went to go sit by my dad. As I was walking up I instantly notice something was not right with my father. Half of his face was drooping with his milk running down the edge of his left lip down to his chin where the milk carton had fallen on his pants and then onto the ground. Like the fall of the carton, his left side had fallen. I looked into my father's eye and for the first time saw fear. My father was a strong man, who seemingly could do anything: master trainer of horses, and built houses; I once saw him grab a rattlesnake and throw it halfway across the barn so, seeing and feeling fear in my father was a new experience for me.

I yelled for help and the world went into slow motion. I saw my mother and other parents run over to my father someone saying he was going for help. My mom had that same look of fear. She wouldn't look at me and later, as I grew older and could put things into a broader context, I realized that day had destroyed my family all in different ways.

This was the first of many brutal moments I would face in life; my mother/brother live with severe mental health issues,a survivor of sexual abuse, I live with EDS, my eldest son was paralyzed at 16, father passed by suicide to name a few.

I am a firm believer that stories set us free, bond us together, and create community, connection, and shared understanding. Along with laughter, I believe stories are everyday magic each of us can tap into.