I remember sitting in the hospital when the pain was still very real. My anger losing its edge. My anxiety fading. I remembered only vaguely that I had been horribly depressed. I was happy! That was the moment I knew I had messages to share. And I knew I had a voice. Some people warned me to not get my hopes up: becoming a professional speaker was a nice idea, but a pipe dream. But if the fire hadn’t stopped me, I wasn’t going to let anything else stop me, either. I wasn’t going to give up my dream just because it would be difficult! I knew exactly what I was meant to do—to use my experiences to help others. And with the help of countless friends, new and old, I left the fire behind and moved forward to my life.

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