One year ago, today, I fully stepped into my power. And it did not look AT ALL like what I thought it would.

Maybe I’ve watched too many movies (maybe we all have), but the hero’s journey towards stepping into their true power seems always the same; plain Jane has finally had enough, takes matters into her own hands, drops her fear instantly, starts kicking serious ass and then, miraculously, everything starts going her way and she becomes the hero. And there’s that walk… the ultimate representation of stepping into one’s power fearlessly, the hero’s walk… you know the one… they walk towards the camera all badass, shoulders proud, energy strong, their posse of friends they’ve found along the way filling in behind them, kick-ass anthem playing in the background, one-handed racking their giant guns, hair and trench coats blowing in the breeze behind them as they all fully and fearlessly step into their power in epic slow motion.

Ya… mine didn’t look like that.

There was no soundtrack. There were no guns. No trench coats either. There was no strategically placed fan blowing my hair back. There was no epic slow motion…

Do you know what there was?

FEAR.

There were lawyers. There were advocates ready to go to bat for my kids. There were stacks of evidence. There was the truth. And there was fear.

Fear that came from knowing how the system works (or doesn’t). Fear from what had already happened within those same walls; decisions that had rocked my and my kids lives for 6 years. Fear that the truth would be ignored… again. And fear of what was next… how would any of us keep going if we lost?

I had to remind myself to sit up straight even though I wanted to disappear beneath the floor boards. I had to think clearly and remain focused despite the physiological effects of PTSD rocking me. I had to choke down the nausea and stifle the retching, side-affects of the cancer treatment and prolonged stress. I had to remain calm and strong, despite repeated attempts by others to break me.

Every part of the negotiation, for me, came back to one thing; will this hurt the kids? I gave on EVERYTHING except for anything that had the potential to undermine the kids. That means I gave on things that hurt me and those I love. I lost well over $100k that day and even more in the insane weeks that followed.

But what I gained for my kids continues to bring me to my knees with gratitude; a simplicity of life that is allowing them to heal and to blossom into who they really are.

So here’s what I realized about the hero’s journey, on this day, one year ago:

That regular Jane who’s one-handed racking that gun and walking, fearlessly, in slow motion towards that epic battle?

SHE’S.SHITTING.HER.PANTS.

The difference between living the life you have, and living the life you want, is being afraid… and doing it anyways.

So do I think I’m a hero?

YES. I think WE ALL ARE.

But I spent 45 years of my life not realizing I could save myself because I thought being afraid meant I couldn’t be powerful.

One year ago today, I stepped into my power because I stepped into my fear and didn’t let it stop me.
It was hard. It was uncomfortable. It was exhausting. It was expensive.

IT WAS WORTH IT.

Do it scared.
You can. And you will.