Maybe the things that happened to us don't need to be justified to have meaning.
I was listening to a conversation between Mel Robbins and Oprah Winfrey about purpose, acceptance and the experiences that shape our lives. https://www.melrobbins.com/episode/episode-435/
One idea stayed with me: what if finding purpose doesn't mean believing everything happened for a reason?
What if it means deciding what we carry forward?
I've always looked up to Oprah—not simply because of what she has accomplished, but because of how she makes people feel. Seen. Heard. Safe enough to be authentically themselves.
Those are qualities I hope to bring into the work I'm creating now.
It’s not what happened to you, it’s what happened for you. The saying that everything happens for a reason can sometimes get lost and misunderstood in the feeling that you need to validate all the trauma and hardships, in order to feel that it was all worth something. I endured this bad hard thing, but look now - it had a purpose or a mission.
That doesn't mean the painful things needed to happen. It doesn't make them fair, necessary or good. And it doesn't mean we have to be grateful for trauma.
What resonated with me was something different: eventually, we may reach a place where we stop wishing the past could be rewritten and begin asking what we will carry forward from it.
She framed it through the stages of grief and into the final stage of acceptance. That when you are looking back at the memories of your life, and you are wishing and praying that you could change it, or that it didn’t happen- you haven’t come to the stage of accepting what is. When you reach acceptance you can then appreciate that life happens, good and bad, and that through those experiences, your perceptions, appreciations, understandings, beliefs and values change as well. That whatever you went through, now has a consequence in how you move forward, in your thinking, behaving, and believing. It had it’s own purpose- and the purpose is now what you take forward and how you use it is up to you.
So reflecting back on all the thoughts of feeling that life was unfair, unjust and somedays unbearable- it has lead me to this purpose. I am able to say I stood in the mud and know that’s what happened for me. Through sharing my story with the intention of building human connections and allowing others to share theirs, I am hoping to provide a sense of hope, and empowerment.
This kind of reflection doesn’t come without years of feeling stuck, overwhelmed, confused, hurt, scared and alone. I have done some trauma therapy and work within myself to be able to have the ability to feel that I am worthy of this purpose, and that all my experiences that lead me to this point in my life is what makes that purpose real.
When You Can't See the Bigger Picture
When Oprah said if you feel stuck right now, it’s because you can’t see the bigger picture. She nailed it. That is exactly how I felt. There were times when I was simply going through the motions of getting through the day. I couldn't think about next week, next month or some long-term plan. “Today” already felt like too much.
How could I see anything else than this?
Looking back now, I can see things I couldn't see while I was standing in the middle of them.
Oprah shared a quote from Maya Angelou, “I wouldn’t take nothing for my journey now” about all the stuff that was a part of my journey - once I recognized it, I could see why.
The Thread Was Already There
It isn't a coincidence that I always wanted to work with children. I specialized in behaviour therapy and worked in Intensive Behaviour Intervention. I learned to see development through a different lens.
Then I became Olivia's mom.
I had the professional knowledge to recognize development. I had the maternal instinct telling me something wasn't right. I had the advocacy skills to walk into doctors' offices, schools and therapy appointments and keep asking questions. I understood inclusion and accessibility.
For a long time, I looked at some of those experiences through the lens of what had been taken from us.
Now I can look at them differently.
I was born to be her mother.
And she changed me, too.
Once I realized that, instead of feeling cheated, or guilty of wishing she didn’t have to endure these struggles, it gave me the freedom of seeing the lessons we taught each other. For years I sat and listened to families share their stories, their hopes and dreams for their child. I was a better child development consultant once I had Olivia.
She Put Me in Their Shoes
For years, I sat with families while they shared their stories—their fears, hopes and dreams for their children.
But I became a different child development consultant after I had Olivia.
She put me in their shoes.
She put me in those isolated, scared moments when you don't know what comes next. She taught me what it feels like when your professional knowledge suddenly becomes personal.
And because of her, I could meet families differently. Not only as a professional who understood development, but as a mother who could genuinely say:
“I've been there too.”
Olivia is brave, resilient, strong-willed and passionate about helping others. She talks about becoming a nurse when she grows up.
And maybe she is already beginning to create meaning from her own experiences—not because those experiences needed to happen, but because she gets to decide what she carries forward from them.
That is something I am incredibly grateful to witness.
We need people in everyday life to be able to walk by our side, and say “i’ve been there too” and allow us to feel vulnerable but protected at the same time.
Maybe purpose isn't always something we suddenly discover.
Maybe sometimes we look back and realize the thread was there all along.
Mine was children. Advocacy. Connection. Listening to people's stories. Helping someone feel less alone.
In one word- SUPPORT.
I just couldn't see how those pieces fit together while I was living them.
Now I can.
And that is why I created Invisibly Visible.
Not because I have everything figured out, but because I know what it feels like to stand in the mud and not be able to see beyond today.
If sharing my story allows another parent, caregiver or person standing in their own version of the mud to feel seen—to hear someone say “I've been there too”—then this is exactly where I'm supposed to be.Not because I have everything figured out, but because I know what it feels like to stand in the mud and not be able to see beyond today.
Come along for the journey—listen, watch, and grow with me wherever you get your podcasts. Like & subscribe to join the IV League—where you’re not just a listener, you’re part of the story we’re building together.
