It started with a parking lot conversation with a friend. Her question begged for an answer.

Was the way I was doing life really working?

Pushing through debilitating pain while virtually unwilling to let anyone know, let alone ask for help, I was no longer sure.

Weeks later as I underwent surgery to replace a cervical disc in my neck, my husband implored my mom in the waiting room, “Please tell your daughter to let me help her.” 

Tell your daughter to let me help her. I had been married to this man for over thirty years.

At first I wanted to kill the idea of superwoman. Bury the illusion, let go of the expectations, dance on her metaphoric grave. But then I looked in the faces of the women around me, strong, brave, hardworking, exceptional women, and realized I could find no other way to define us.

We truly are superwomen.

But there has to be a better way.

Could we simply show up in life with ALL of us? I wondered, And could I look in the mirror and truly believe that would be enough?

And so the journey began. The journey to understand her, the journey to redefine her, the journey to empower her.

The journey to heal superwoman.