Some experiences don’t simply change our lives—they initiate us into becoming a new, more authentic version of ourselves.
These initiation events are generally more dramatic than others. They mark a real change in the trajectory of our life path. They can shatter aspects of our identity and open us to transforming who we thought we were before the event as we step into revealing who we are now . . . after.
When I look at my life, from the Eagle’s view, I sometimes feel like I’ve lived many lives in this one form, and I’m sure you feel the same way.
Here are some of my greatest transitions—some of them were initiations, while others were simply big changes happening presenting me with a choice to pivot in a new direction.
There was my life with my parents, growing up in Oregon.
There was going to Pepperdine University and meeting my husband.
Our marriage, the birth of our daughters, and raising a family.
There was a career in graphic design and marketing.
Letting go of my career to be more present for my family.
My husband’s success with Don’t Sweat the Small Stuff—a publishing phenomenon.
Writing my first books with him.
Richard’s untimely death.
Single-mom life.
A stalker.
Coming into my own as a writer and author.
Empty nest.
Becoming a grandmother.
Menopause.
Claiming my personal power and “living the big stuff.”
Partnering again.
Now.
Each one of these represents a chapter of my life story. Each one of these would be in my personal autobiography.
But looking at this list, I can also see that not every transition was an initiation.
A transition changes the circumstances of your life. An initiation changes you.
Going to college was a transition. Becoming a mother was an initiation.
Richard’s success changed our lives dramatically, but his death initiated me into an entirely new way of being, truly revealing my strength and resilience. I became a widow, a single mother, the steward of a legacy, and eventually a woman who had to discover who she was on her own.
Even the years of being stalked became an initiation of sorts. I would never have chosen it, nor would I romanticize something so frightening, but it forced me to learn about boundaries, courage, personal power, and what it means to protect yourself and the people you love.
That’s the interesting thing about initiation.
We rarely recognize it while we’re inside of it because we are surviving it.
Usually, we’re simply trying to get through whatever life has handed us. We’re putting one foot in front of the other, making decisions, adapting, surviving, and carrying on.
It’s only later, as our healing progresses, that we look back and realize:
I wasn’t the same person after that experience.
And for a writer, that’s often where the story lives. It begins with pain, and then there is the path of healing that reveals the journey you’ve been walking from trial to triumph.
What about you?
Please reflect for a moment and look at the chapters of your own life.
What were the big transitions?
And which of those transitions were actually initiations?
Where is the line drawn between the person you were before and the person you became afterward?
What did that experience ask you to let go of in order to embrace something new?
What did you discover about yourself that you couldn’t have known any other way?
And perhaps most importantly:
What is the story you can tell now that the person you were then couldn’t yet have told?
Somewhere in your answers is a story.
Maybe it’s a story you’ve told a hundred times. Maybe it’s one you’ve never told anyone. Or maybe it’s something you’ve never even thought of as a story before.
This is exactly what Debra and I are going to explore in our upcoming free four-week Book Doulas workshop, Writing the Story That Changed Everything for You.
You don’t need to know whether your story belongs in a memoir, an essay, a chapter of a book, or something you simply need to write for yourself.
Start by finding the moment—or the season—that changed you.
Because you may find that the story that changed everything isn’t simply about what happened.
It’s about who you became because it happened.
We hope you’ll join us and write yours.

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