UNSEEN
What cannot be seen from the outside.
Have you ever made a quick judgment from a first impression? Then realized you missed the truth entirely?
When you look at the photo above, what do you notice?
I shared this image while coaching the women in my REALigned cohort a few weeks ago. They noticed the flag in the yard. The solar panels on the roof. And when I zoomed in, they noticed what appeared to be a window boarded up.
What they could not see was the devastation inside.
A fire in the bedroom killed a woman who was fighting a cancer diagnosis. Her husband, while trying to save her, suffered burns on over 50% of his body. I had walked past that home on a morning walk and was perplexed. From the outside, you would never know.
Of course I found a deeper meaning in that. If you have not noticed yet, I consistently look beneath the surface. I expect meaning beyond what I can see. Nature has a way of teaching lessons about our humanity if we are willing to pay attention.
And this house and the fire inside had something to say.
We look good on the outside. And people never get to see the truth beneath the surface.
We dress up. Put on makeup. Take trips. Post happy pictures. Smile our way through personal encounters. When someone asks “how are you,” the answer is almost always “I’m good, how are you?” On one hand, hiding that we are not okay. On the other, quickly shifting the attention away from ourselves. It happens mostly at the unconscious level. But it happens nonetheless.
When I told people I was divorcing after 28 years of marriage, they were stunned.
From the outside it looked like I was living my best life. Million dollar homes. Owning businesses. Driving a Mercedes. Kids in private school, then graduating college. What could possibly be wrong?
What could not be seen from the outside was the devastation happening in my soul.
The loss of who God created me to be. The pain deep in my heart. The brokenness in my being. The unhappiness in my home. The sleepless nights. The tears in the shower and in the closet. The doubts that God was even there anymore.
And there were moments, in the depth of that pain, when I did not want to be here anymore. I was not going to take action on it. But I would pray and ask God to just come and take me. To relieve me of the weight of continuing. And then I would think of my children. What it would do to them. And I would get back up.
Love for them pulled me back every time. Until I found my way back to myself.
Last week a colleague shared that a dear friend had died by suicide. He had started businesses and was in the middle of a major launch. Successful. Established. Everything looking right on the outside. And inside, a devastation that made ending his life feel like the only option.
That story reminded me why my work matters.
People need outlets for the truth. They need to know they can be heard. That they can be supported through life’s struggles without shame or judgment. I grew up hearing “do not judge a book by its cover.” What it has taught me is to look deeper. Into the condition of the heart. The state of a person’s emotional world. The hopelessness that hides behind a polished exterior.
If you feel overwhelmed, stressed, or unsure what to do next, I am here.
You do not have to be on the verge of a drastic decision to accept support. It is better to recognize the early signs and do what is necessary before it becomes overwhelming. I know you are good at holding it together. And I want you to know there is a place where you do not have to.
A place where you can be honest about what you are experiencing. Where you are given the tools and the space to decompress, breathe, and find the rhythm that works for you.
I have created that space intentionally. I am committed to using my voice, my gifts, my experiences, and my resources to be a place where women can heal, grow, and become everything they were created to be.
If anything I have shared speaks to you, please reach out. I am a safe space. A place to share your truth. Use the link below to accept my invitation to a Private Conversation.