Folgen

  • Grab the Reins and Go!

    Grab the Reins and Go!
    Feb 18 2026
    Moving from Recovery Mode into Momentum Mode Year of the Fire Horse Part 5

    There are seasons in life where we heal… and then there are seasons where we’re called to move again.

    For a while, I was healing.

    After my revision surgery and AMI procedure, my world slowed down whether I wanted it to or not. New sockets, new pain, scar tissue, relearning movement — it felt like starting over all over again. And just when I began to feel ready to push forward, life filled in the space. Holidays, responsibilities, travel, hosting, caring for others. Suddenly months had passed and I realized something important:

    I wasn’t stuck because I couldn’t move forward.

    I was stuck because I had gotten comfortable waiting.

    This episode is about that moment of realization — the moment you understand that healing can quietly turn into hesitation if you’re not careful.

    We’ve just stepped into the Year of the Fire Horse, and whether you follow that calendar or not, the symbolism matters. Fire brings energy, intensity, and transformation. The horse represents movement, courage, and momentum. Together, they create a once-in-a-lifetime invitation to stop sitting on the sidelines of your own life.

    But before we can run forward, we have to shed what we’ve been carrying.

    I talked about the Year of the Snake — the year we’re leaving — and how snakes shed their skin. They don’t gently outgrow it. They press themselves against rough surfaces to pull it off. Friction is required for renewal.

    And honestly… that’s us.

    Hard seasons, setbacks, medical struggles, emotional weight — those moments aren’t proof life is against us. They’re often the very process that removes the old version of us so a new one can exist. The mistake we make is trying to keep the old skin. We analyze it, revisit it, and sometimes build our identity around it instead of leaving it behind.

    This year asks something different of us.

    It asks us to stop waiting for perfect conditions.

    As amputees especially, waiting becomes normal. We wait for appointments, healing, prosthetics, pain to calm down, energy to return. Waiting becomes a lifestyle. But at some point, waiting stops protecting us and starts limiting us.

    So this episode is a challenge:

    Stop saying “when things get better.”

    Start asking “what can I do today?”

    Because growth does not happen inside comfort.

    Comfort leads to stagnation.

    Stagnation leads to false alignment — a place where we convince ourselves we’re okay staying where we are, even when our heart knows we’re meant for more.

    I see it in myself. I’ve been certified in equine therapy for months, yet I hesitated to begin. Not because I couldn’t… but because of the “what ifs.” What if I fail? What if I’m not ready? What if timing isn’t right?

    But authenticity matters more than preparedness.

    You grow by doing — not by waiting until fear disappears.

    The Fire Horse energy is bold. It rewards decisive action, courage, and honesty with yourself. It exposes the places we hide in comfort and invites us to lead our lives instead of postponing them.

    That doesn’t mean ignoring hard days. It means refusing to let them define every day.

    If you’re not ready for a big challenge, start smaller.

    Stop micromanaging everything wrong and start noticing what’s right. Write down blessings. Shift focus. Open your awareness to the parts of life still moving forward around you.

    Because we are more than our bodies.

    More than our pain.

    More than our setbacks.

    The warrior mindset isn’t pretending life isn’t hard — it’s deciding hardship won’t be the end of your story.

    This episode is your reminder:

    You don’t need a new year, a Monday, or perfect timing.

    You need a decision.

    Grab the reins.

    Move forward.

    Start now.

    And as always,

    Be Healthy,

    Be Happy,

    Be YOU!!!

    Much love,

    My blessings and the people who keep me going! ♥
    Mehr anzeigen Weniger anzeigen
    31 Min.
  • Courage, Authenticity, and Decisive Action for Amputees

    Courage, Authenticity, and Decisive Action for Amputees
    Feb 11 2026
    Year of the Fire Horse Part 4 Embrace Courage and Move Forward There comes a moment when life asks you a hard question: Are you ready to stop waiting and start leading your own life? Not tomorrow. Not when things feel easier. But now—right where you are, exactly as you are. That’s the space this episode lives in. And as we stand on the edge of the Year of the Fire Horse, that question feels louder, bolder, and impossible to ignore. As we move closer to February 17th, the official start of the Year of the Fire Horse, I wanted to pause, breathe, and prepare—for myself and for you. Because this year carries a rare combination of energy and power that only comes once every sixty years. And if we’re ready for it, it can change everything. I’ll be honest: I don’t typically follow the Chinese calendar. I’m a Christian, and my faith anchors me. But if you put a horse anywhere near my path, I pay attention. Horses transformed my life after amputation, which is why I pursued my equine therapy certification. I believe deeply in their power—movement, intuition, strength—and I believe this year invites us to embody those same qualities. This isn’t about superstition. It’s about preparation, intention, and courage. Ole Ben, loves quiet time! Me and my girl, Sakari. She is my Soul Horse! This episode is part of a series designed to help you step into this new year with clarity and confidence. Over the past few weeks, we’ve talked about movement, momentum, fearless expansion, and the shift from waiting to leading. Because waiting—especially as an amputee—can quietly become a habit. We tell ourselves we’ll start when the pain eases, when our body feels better, when life calms down. And while rest is sometimes necessary, waiting can also keep us stuck. Quiet Energy… …And silliness! I speak from experience. I’ve been an amputee for seven years now, and this is season six of the podcast. That first year after my amputation, I set goals and attacked them with everything I had. I was done letting life pass me by. I learned quickly that growth doesn’t happen by sitting back—it happens by stepping forward, even when it’s uncomfortable. This week, we dive into three essential pillars: courage, authenticity, and decisive action. Because dreams without plans stay dreams. Saying “I want to walk better” or “I want to feel stronger” means nothing if we don’t define what that looks like. Decisive action requires clarity. It requires writing things down. Being specific. Holding ourselves accountable. Finding the determination and taking action despite how you feel is courageous! For me, that clarity began before my amputation. I created a vision board months before surgery—photos of my family, Bible verses, meaningful quotes, and images of the life I wanted to return to. Skiing. Movement. Strength. That board sat next to my bed for four months, reminding me daily that I am more than my body. That I am more than what was being taken from me. And that belief carried me forward. My Vision Board But belief alone isn’t enough. Action matters. And action, as an amputee, is complicated. Learning to walk again isn’t just physical—it’s emotional, mental, and exhausting. Trusting a prosthetic leg takes time. Wearing it can feel heavy, claustrophobic, painful. Some days, seven years later, I still struggle. And I share that because authenticity matters. This journey isn’t linear, and pretending otherwise helps no one. One of the tools that helped me most was creating “carrots”—clear motivators that pulled me forward. For me, that came in the form of virtual races. Not because I needed to run, but because I needed a reason to move. Walking, rowing, swimming, chair yoga—movement in any form counts. Since my amputation, I’ve completed over twenty virtual challenges, some as long as 175 miles. Not to compete with anyone else—but to be better than I was yesterday. SOME of my virtual races- all completed AFTER amputation! My motivation! That’s the heart of this episode. You are not competing with anyone but yourself. Comparison steals joy. Progress—no matter how small—builds momentum. Some days, progress looks like wearing your leg for two hours instead of none. Some days, it looks like standing instead of sitting. Some days, it looks like crying and still choosing not to quit. Courage doesn’t mean fear disappears. I’m scared sometimes—scared to fall, scared to trust my body, scared to push too far. But courage is choosing to move anyway. Authenticity is honoring the hard days without surrendering to them. And decisive action is committing to your life, even when it’s uncomfortable. I close this episode with a call to action that’s simple—but powerful. Find a quiet place this week. No distractions. No to-do lists. Breathe. And picture your life twelve months from now. How does your body feel? How do you ...
    Mehr anzeigen Weniger anzeigen
    32 Min.
  • Stop Waiting, Start Leading

    Stop Waiting, Start Leading
    Feb 4 2026
    Using the Energy of the Fire Horse-Part 3 What if the thing holding you back isn’t your circumstances… but your waiting? That’s the question I’m asking myself—and you—in this episode of Be a Warrior. As I move into my seventh year as an above-knee amputee and step into 2026, I feel a shift happening. A deep, unmistakable pull to stop waiting for life to feel easier, cleaner, or more predictable—and instead start leading, exactly where I am. This episode is part three of my five-part series inspired by the Year of the Fire Horse, and if you’ve missed the first two, I highly recommend going back and listening. This series is building intentionally, because growth doesn’t happen in isolation—it happens in layers. In the first episode, I talked about movement, momentum, and fearless expansion. Not fearless in the absence of fear, but fearless in the willingness to move through it. As amputees—and honestly, as humans—we live with a lot of fear. Fear of pain. Fear of falling. Fear of how our bodies will feel tomorrow. Fear of what people see when they look at us. Expansion doesn’t mean fear disappears. It means we don’t let it decide our future. Last week, we explored the bold, passionate energy of the Fire Horse and how powerful energy can work for us—or against us. Energy doesn’t discriminate. If you’re prepared, it can propel you forward faster than you imagined. If you’re unprepared, it can feel overwhelming and destabilizing. This year is not subtle. It’s loud. It’s demanding. And it’s asking us to participate instead of sit on the sidelines. Which brings me to this week’s focus: leading instead of waiting. If you’re not an amputee, let me pull back the curtain for a moment. Amputee life—especially in the early years—is dominated by waiting. Waiting for wounds to heal. Waiting for insurance approvals. Waiting for appointments. Waiting for test sockets. Waiting for remakes. Waiting for your limb to shrink, change, adjust, stabilize. Waiting for your body to feel like it belongs to you again. There can be more time spent waiting than actually living, and that kind of waiting is exhausting. I’ve watched so many people—myself included—get stuck in that space. Not because we’re weak, but because the system trains us to wait. And at some point, that waiting becomes a habit. We tell ourselves, Once this socket fits better… once I heal… once this next thing happens… then I’ll start living. This year is calling us out on that. The Year of the Fire Horse is designed for people who are ready to lead instead of wait. And leadership doesn’t mean having all the answers. It means choosing not to put your life on hold. You can lead from a wheelchair. You can lead while healing. You can lead while waiting on insurance or surgery or the next prosthetic adjustment. Leading means asking yourself: What can I do today, with what I have, where I am? Because sitting and waiting doesn’t just pause your life—it quietly erodes your confidence, your joy, and your sense of purpose. I know that when I wait too long, I stop meeting people. I stop moving my body. I stop feeling good about myself. I start complaining. And that’s not the life I want—and I don’t believe it’s the life you want either. The Fire Horse only comes around once every 60 years. When the energy of fire and horse combine, it’s powerful, fast, and transformative. But everything I’ve read says the positive outcomes come from preparation. From intention. From deciding ahead of time that when the energy hits, you’re ready to ride instead of getting knocked over. For me, that preparation has meant getting quiet, introspective, and honest about what I want my next 12 months to look like. How I want to lead myself. How I want to show up for my family. How I want to live—not someday, but now. And that’s why I’m inviting you into action. On February 17th, the Fire Horse energy officially begins, and I’m hosting a Year of the Fire Horse Virtual Challenge for women. It’s a 5K, 10K, half marathon, or marathon—done virtually, at your pace, in your way. This isn’t about speed or perfection. It’s about momentum. Accountability. Community. About proving to yourself that you can start before everything feels perfect. To Join the Virtual Challenge click HERE Get 30% of when you use the discount code: JOLLY Waiting doesn’t have to be your full-time job. This episode is a call to stop postponing your life. To stop telling yourself you’ll start when conditions improve. To recognize that leadership begins the moment you decide to move—even if that movement is small, messy, and imperfect. You don’t need permission to live fully. You don’t need your circumstances to cooperate. You just need to decide that waiting no longer gets to run the show. This is your year to lead. Not tomorrow. Not when it’s easier. Today. I’ll be right here, walking it with you. ...
    Mehr anzeigen Weniger anzeigen
    23 Min.
  • Energy-Fast, Bold, and Passionate

    Energy-Fast, Bold, and Passionate
    Jan 28 2026
    Using Your Momentum to Accomplish Great Things (part 2) Today I invite you into a deeper conversation about movement, momentum, and what I believe is a powerful energetic shift ahead of us: the Year of the Fire Horse. As an above-knee amputee, a lifelong horse girl, and someone who has learned to rebuild life step by step, this theme resonates with me on every level. The Fire Horse represents bold energy, passion, speed, and expansion—but only if we’re willing to meet it with intention and preparation. Last week, I challenged you to focus on movement. Not perfection. Not comparison. Just movement—forward motion, wherever you are in your journey. Because movement creates momentum, and momentum opens the door to growth. That growth is what I call fearless expansion. And let me be very clear: fearless expansion doesn’t mean the absence of fear. Fear is always present, especially as an amputee. Every literal step forward requires trust—trust in my prosthesis, trust in my body, and trust in myself. Early on, I couldn’t even imagine carrying laundry with my vision blocked, let alone trusting my leg to land where it needed to. That confidence didn’t come overnight. It came from doing the thing scared, over and over again, until fear loosened its grip. This ⇑ leads to this ⇓ And that’s why setting goals and staying focused on them matters. I want to remind you that this journey is never linear. Prosthetic life is full of pauses, setbacks, socket changes, surgeries, and seasons of limbo. There are times when pushing harder simply isn’t possible—and that doesn’t mean you’ve failed. It means you’re human. I’ve taken years off from pushing my pace, not because I was lazy, but because my body wasn’t ready. And that’s okay. We are not competing with anyone else—especially not the curated versions of people we see online. The only comparison that matters is who you were yesterday. This brings me to the next layer of the Fire Horse energy: boldness, speed, and passion. This is the kind of energy that’s impossible to ignore. It can fuel incredible growth—or become overwhelming if we aren’t grounded. That’s why preparation matters. Before my amputation, I did something that changed everything: I set goals before surgery. Month by month. Not because I knew how things would turn out, but because I didn’t want fear to be my focus. I wanted my eyes on the horizon. These virtual races kept me focused and helped me get stronger. These medals tell my story, one I am proud of. Those goals didn’t start big. My first win was simply getting out of the house alone. That one decision led me to adaptive sports, sled hockey, skiing, virtual races, surfing, and eventually completing a 10K with a running blade. None of it happened by accident. Every step required intention, planning, and a willingness to try—even when I wasn’t sure I’d succeed. Virtual races, in particular, saved me. They gave me accountability and something to work toward when motivation was low. I wouldn’t even open the medals until I earned them. On good socket days, I pushed myself. On bad days, I rested. But I kept showing up. And every time I finished something I once thought was impossible, I felt alive again. Capable. Limitless. That’s the power of momentum. It builds confidence. And confidence changes everything. As we approach the Year of the Fire Horse, I want you to pause and ask yourself: What do I truly want to accomplish in the next twelve months? Not what feels “realistic.” Not what others expect of you. What lives in your heart? What lights you up? This energy can either propel you forward or spiral into negativity if you’re unprepared. The difference is mindset and planning. This week’s call to action builds on last week’s. Keep moving—but now, zoom out. Create a one-year vision. Look at your calendar. Are there trips coming up? Experiences you’ve avoided because of fear, injury, or amputation? Hiking, traveling, trying a new sport, or simply walking confidently in your neighborhood—none of these happen overnight. They require preparation, strength building, and patience. And that preparation starts now. I’ve never jumped blindly into anything. When I returned to skiing, I sought adaptive instruction. I practiced balance, core strength, and walking long before I hit the slopes. Every year, I have to rebuild again. That’s life. The work never truly ends—but neither does the growth. Amputation is not the end of life. It’s a beginning. A reinvention. And the truth is, anything goes. If you try something and it doesn’t work, so what? You tried. You learn. You pivot. You try again. I never surfed before my amputation—and now it’s something I love. You don’t know what’s waiting for you on the other side of fear. This year carries powerful energy. If you open yourself up to it with intention, incredible things can happen. Dream ...
    Mehr anzeigen Weniger anzeigen
    24 Min.
  • A Year of Movement, Momentum and Fearless Expansion

    A Year of Movement, Momentum and Fearless Expansion
    Jan 21 2026
    The Year of The Fire Horse Part 1 As I sat down to share this episode, we are in that weird blur between the holidays and the start of the new year—January 21st to be exact. Somehow we’re saying goodbye to January already and I’m still not sure how time is moving this fast. To be honest, I am a little under the weather today. A trip back home to Chicago gifted me more than nostalgia—sniffles and congestion that love to linger. But if there’s anything amputee life has taught me, it’s how to show up anyway. Healing isn’t always linear, progress isn’t always pretty, and sometimes the real strength is simply being here. If you’ve been with me for a while, you already know how excited I am about 2026. This is the Year of the Horse, and I have unapologetically embraced it. Horses are my heart—right alongside my pups—and spending time with them is healing in motion. I was out loving on them earlier that morning, enjoying Arizona sunshine that feels a little too warm for January. (I’m still waiting for winter to show up so I can actually appreciate the desert heat again.) But weather aside, the symbolism of the horse couldn’t align more powerfully with the season I’m in—and the season many of you are in. What makes this year even more rare is that it isn’t just the Year of the Horse. It is the Year of the Fire Horse, a cycle that doesn’t come around often in the Chinese calendar. Fire brings imagery of energy, power, movement, and drive—big, explosive energy that demands expansion. When I learned that, I immediately knew I wanted to infuse that symbolism into our lives this year, especially within the amputee community. Now, if you’re not an amputee, don’t tune out. The beauty of this journey is that the lessons apply to anyone navigating hardship—whether your challenges are physical, medical, emotional, relational, or even professional. Struggle doesn’t discriminate. But neither does growth. I’ve never been a fan of New Year’s resolutions. January feels messy—physically, mentally, and emotionally. We’re recovering from holidays, reorganizing homes, resetting routines, trying to remember what vegetables look like, and wrestling with motivation that hasn’t thawed out yet. I spent those early weeks decluttering my body from holiday eating and drinking, refreshing my home, and re-establishing rhythms that support who I want to be—not just who I’ve been. For me, that looks like eating cleaner, scheduling movement, and taking care of my mind, my leg, my family, and my horses. I’m not a rigid scheduler by nature, but with so many things I love doing, I can’t always choose—and then nothing gets done. So sometimes structure serves us. While reading about the Year of the Fire Horse, five symbolic themes showed up. I decided I’m going to break them down over several episodes and explore how they can shape our growth. Unless something major happens in my own life (because I always speak from personal experience first), we’re riding that theme for a bit. The first Fire Horse theme? Movement, Momentum, and Fearless Expansion. Three words. Three mountains. Three invitations. Let’s start with movement. If you’re an amputee and you’re unhappy with where you’re at—maybe you’re watching others do things you wish you could do—the number one thing I’ll tell you is this: do not compare yourself to anyone else. Amputee life is not one size fits all. Body types, limb levels, insurance coverage, prosthetic technology, pain tolerance, terrain, weather, confidence—all of it changes the picture. Someone in snowy Minnesota isn’t out hiking in January. Someone in Arizona isn’t out walking at 115°F. Our seasons look different literally and figuratively. And that’s okay. But movement matters. In fact, movement is everything. Movement is how we reclaim our bodies. Movement is how we rebuild trust. Movement is how we protect our mental health. Movement is how we remind ourselves we’re alive. Prosthetics don’t move us—we move us. Insurance coverage doesn’t give us grit—we give us grit. And movement isn’t pain-free, effortless, or pretty in the beginning. It’s awkward. It’s exhausting. It’s uncomfortable. And some days it just feels unfair. But movement is life, and life demands movement. Even if you’re not on a prosthetic yet, wheelchairs, crutches, walkers—pushing yourself counts. Motion burns energy, heals the mind, and keeps you connected to your body and your environment. And with movement comes momentum. Momentum isn’t about speed—it’s about direction. It’s about choosing to walk to the end of the driveway today, past the neighbor’s house tomorrow, and maybe around the block next week. Those baby steps are not insignificant. They are data. They are discipline. They are the quiet stacking of strength. I still remember thinking I could walk a mile as soon as I got cleared for my prosthetic. I didn’t make it ...
    Mehr anzeigen Weniger anzeigen
    27 Min.
  • Walk The Line

    Walk The Line
    Jan 15 2026
    Friendships Versus Hardships The hard truths of handling your friendships (and relationships, for that matter), and going through amputation is definitely a hot topic in our community. And quite frankly, if you are going through ANY hardship you might feel a sense of pull back or even a good friend vanish into thin air as if they were just a figment of your imagination. Becoming an amputee is a lonely gig. You deal with a lot of emotions, phantom pains and unnatural feelings that cannot be explained to someone who hasn’t gone through the lose of a limb, the fitting and feels of a socket and metal leg, not to mention the night time when pains take over and the dark and quietness of the night are suffocating, etc, etc, etc. Now, add to this the frustrations you feel when the surgery is all done, you’ve healed and life goes on….. for everyone else around you! Yet here you are still stuck with the pains, sensations, feeling vulnerable, questioning your future and your independence, doubting yourself, hating the way you look and feel, being angry and sad all in the same breathe, but your closest friends just can’t listen to it all anymore, they’ve moved on, but you haven’t. Well, it’s time to check yourself. Are you consumed with all the things you’re feeling or spending hours upon hours in a negative place, struggling to get out? Have you tried to see yourself as more than an amputee or the victim of this scenario? I don’t blame you, we all have those days but you cannot live there! It’s unhealthy and that negative energy that will ruin you and your relationships. It’s time to find your space and that means seeing the positive, finding the beauty where you are at. Finding your purpose and allowing that to fuel you won’t only do you good it’ll draw others to you, like a beacon on a darkened hilltop. This does not mean that you shouldn’t validate your pain or your feelings, but it does mean find a balance. I don’t talk about the pain I go through because talking about it gives it power and I won’t have that. It doesn’t serve me or make me feel better so I push it aside. However somedays it is all I can do not to spend a day in tears because I cannot escape my pain, and those days I let me family and close friends know what I’m going through so they aren’t smacked with my emotions and possible anger. There are two sides to this fine line we walk, and our relationships, if important and valuable to us, must be a constant give and take. We cannot expect those who love us to sit and listen to all of our negativity while we change nothing or try to help ourselves. And remember, everyone has hardships. Are you caring about those who you love like you expect them to care about you? We must be willing to reciprocate that compassion. Even as amputees, when we are having a great day that’s a perfect time for us to support someone who isn’t. We must learn to fill each other up, not just take and deplete our relationships to they are dried out and a dark void. Relationships die, and people leave when they no longer feel seen, heard, or cared about. On the flip side, friends come into our lives for seasons, reasons, or lifetimes. There are some people that just are not cut out to deal with someone else’s plight, or have low tolerance for negative chatter, they may need more attention than you can give while dealing with your amputation or they are threatened by you situation. Whatever it is, it may not be on you. The two sides: Side 1: As an amputee who feels like everyone is leaving you. Are you speaking more negatives than positives? Are you monopolizing every conversation with talk about your “predicament”? Is the only thing on your mind your ampuatation and nothing else seems to matter? Then you need to flip the switch and start speaking positivity into your life and into your family and friends’ lives. Your amputation does NOT define you, it does NOT limit you, only you can do that. Are your relationships important? Then find a balance. I’m not saying you should never talk about your problem or your struggles but remember that there is more to you and life than your amputation. Find the positive of being an amputee even if you need to force a bad joke. I always tell my family when my handicap sign saves us from awful walk to an event, “Thank Goodness, my lack of a leg saved us again! You’re welcome!” We laugh and truly enjoy the perks, and I’m happy it hs afforded us some great seats at sporting events. *Perk! Side 2: The friend or family member of an amputee What they are going through is hard and we are told that we may grieve the lose of our limb like we grieve when someone dies. Remember that healing from an amputation is only the beginning of our journey and everyday is so very different. The first 2 years is screwy, hard, emotional, and leaves us feeling lone in a crowded room. Allow your friend or family member talk about it and ...
    Mehr anzeigen Weniger anzeigen
    26 Min.
  • Unleash the Warrior Within You

    Unleash the Warrior Within You
    Jan 7 2026
    The Year of the Fire Horse and the Power of Becoming Welcome to Season Six of the Be-YOU-tiful Adaptive Warrior (BA Warrior) Podcast—a milestone that still takes my breath away. If you had told me years ago that I would be hosting a podcast, let alone entering its sixth season, I would have laughed. It was never a dream I set out to chase. And yet, here we are. Proof that life doesn’t always unfold according to our plans—but often according to something far greater. If you’re new here, I want to personally welcome you. And if you’ve been walking this road with me for years, please know how deeply grateful I am. Your messages, your comments, your shared stories, and your willingness to show up week after week are the reason this podcast exists. Be a Warrior is not something I do alone—it’s something we build together. This podcast is rooted in amputee life. I am an above-knee amputee and have been for seven years. Everything I share comes from lived experience—the victories, the mistakes, the frustrations, the growth, and the moments that test every ounce of resilience. My hope has always been that by sharing my journey honestly, someone else might feel less alone in theirs. A New Season, A New Energy Season Six begins with a theme that feels deeply personal to me: the Year of the Horse—specifically, the Fire Horse. This year carries amplified energy, movement, instinct, and transformation. It also aligns beautifully with where I am in life right now. I recently completed my equine therapy certification, which allows me to bring the healing power of horses to others in a deeper, more intentional way. Horses have long been part of my life, but this year marks a turning point—where passion, purpose, and service come together. My goal for 2026 is to help expand access to equine therapy for overall well-being, especially for people navigating trauma, change, or physical loss. But before we talk about where we’re going, let me tell you how this year actually started—because it wasn’t graceful. A Rough Start and an Important Lesson My husband and I took a short getaway to Sedona, Arizona—a place that feels like a deep breath for the soul. We live in the desert, but a quick drive north brings cooler air, pine trees, red rocks, and a sense of escape. It was meant to be a simple, restorative weekend. In typical fashion, I packed last minute. I grabbed my makeup, hair products, clothes—and we were out the door. What I didn’t grab? Two things no above-knee amputee should ever forget: My prosthetic charging cordThe bag I use to pull my leg into my socket My bag to put my socket on….that I forgot. I realized the charging cord was missing first. Panic set in—until I checked my prosthetic’s battery level. Eighty-two percent. I could manage one day. Then came the second realization. No bag. For those unfamiliar, I am a skin-fit amputee, meaning I don’t use liners or traditional suction. My leg requires a specific bag to pull the skin properly into the socket. Without it, my prosthesis does not go on. No shortcuts. No substitutes—at least, not easily. I didn’t sleep that night. I ran through every possible outcome: crutching around town, canceling plans, going home early. I was frustrated—not just because I forgot something critical, but because I knew better. Ironically, the reason I forgot was also a sign of progress. I had become so comfortable in my body, so confident in my mobility, that I wasn’t thinking about “what ifs” anymore. My prosthesis had become as normal to me as legs are to two-legged people. Comfort is a gift—but complacency can be costly. Adaptation Is a Warrior Skill The next morning, I went into full problem-solving mode. I asked myself: What do I have? What can I use? Garbage bags wouldn’t work—they’d tear. A standard pillowcase was too thick. Then I spotted a silk pillowcase. Thin. Slippery. Flexible. It wasn’t perfect—but it worked. I was able to walk around town that day. I didn’t hike, knowing my limits. When I got home later, I had blisters and raw skin—but I was mobile. I adapted. And that’s what amputee life often requires: creativity, patience, resilience, and the willingness to meet challenges head-on. The Unpredictability of Phantom Pain Just days later, I was reminded again how unpredictable this journey can be. Despite having minimal phantom pain since my nerve revision surgery, I was suddenly hit with intense, stabbing sensations in a foot that no longer exists. The pain came in waves—sharp, jolting, and relentless. It lasted for hours and woke me from sleep. There was no obvious trigger. No overexertion. No trauma. Through experience, I’ve learned that phantom pain doesn’t need permission. It arrives when it wants—and leaves when it’s ready. What got me through wasn’t panic. It was instinct. I ran through my mental checklist: Socket fit? Fine.Injury? No.Stress...
    Mehr anzeigen Weniger anzeigen
    28 Min.
  • The Year of the Horse and Your Journey

    The Year of the Horse and Your Journey
    Dec 31 2025
    Be A Warrior: Closing Season Five, Trusting What Comes Next As I sit down to record this episode, it honestly feels surreal. This is the final episode of 2025 and the close of Season Five of Be-YOU-tiful Adaptive Warrior. Five years. 210 episodes in all! When I say that out loud, it stops me in my tracks a little. What started as a quiet nudge on my heart has grown into something that now feels woven into my life, my healing, and my purpose. My 2025 year in review If you’ve been with me on this journey for a while, thank you. Truly. You are part of this family. And if you’re new here, welcome. I hope you’ll stick around—because Season Six starts next week, and I can hardly believe I get to say that. When I launched this podcast, I didn’t have a master plan. I wasn’t chasing perfection, production polish, or algorithms. I was chasing meaning. My prayer from the very beginning was simple: If this reaches one person—if it brings hope, peace, or strength to someone in the middle of chaos—then it’s worth it. This podcast exists because of my faith, my lived experience, and the road that brought me here—one that forever changed on December 19th, 2018. That was the day I chose an elective above-knee amputation after five years of failed surgeries following a taekwondo accident. Five years of fighting my own body. Five years of pain, loss, and unanswered questions. My TaeKwonDo time, pre-amputation If you’ve never heard my full amputation story, I shared it back in Season One. And honestly, as I step into Season Six, I may revisit it again—because time gives perspective, and perspective gives depth. My first full year as an amputee was 2019, and I set goals like my life depended on it. And in many ways, it did. I hit every single one. I skied again. I surfed. I water skied. I hiked. I rode horses. I proved to myself, my doctors, my family—and maybe the world—that I wasn’t disabled. I was differently abled. But once I checked every box, something unexpected happened. I felt empty. That emptiness wasn’t failure—it was calling. I realized I wasn’t meant to keep all of that hard-earned wisdom to myself. I wasn’t meant to just do life again. I was meant to share it. That’s where this podcast was born. I’ll be honest—I don’t love listening to myself talk. I don’t script these episodes. I don’t cut out the pauses or clean up the edges. There’s an intro, there’s an outro, and everything in between is real. I show up as a mom, a wife, an amputee, a human still figuring it out. This podcast is raw on purpose—because life is raw. As this year closes, we’re also shifting seasons symbolically. If you follow the Chinese calendar, we’re leaving the Year of the Snake and entering the Year of the Horse. And if you know me at all, you know how much that resonates. Horses have become central to my healing and my heart. As a little girl growing up in the suburbs of Chicago, I dreamed of horses, but access and finances made it unrealistic. Life had other plans. It wasn’t until after I lost my leg that horses came back into my life in a powerful way. I reached out to a friend who worked with rescue horses, and something clicked—deeply and instantly. That connection led me to become certified in horse training, advanced training, and most recently equine therapy. Horses taught me regulation, presence, trust, and stillness in ways nothing else ever had—especially after trauma. Now, I work with people who are searching for grounding, healing, and reconnection to their bodies, especially after limb loss. The Year of the Horse represents freedom, movement, soul searching, and wellness. And honestly, I can’t think of a better theme for what’s ahead. I don’t know exactly what this year will bring—but I know I’m ready to meet it. If you’ve followed me for any length of time, you know I don’t believe in New Year’s resolutions. I think the phrase itself sets us up to fail. Words carry power. When we label something as temporary or flimsy, our minds treat it that way. By February, resolutions fade, gyms empty out, and people convince themselves they’ll “start again later.” So instead, I believe in fresh starts. Turning a page. New perspective. And one of my favorite end-of-year rituals is choosing a word—or a short phrase—to guide the year ahead. Not a checklist. A compass. Last year, my words were ‘Be Present’. And those words carried me through one of the most challenging years of my life. In May, I traveled to Boston to see if I qualified for an experimental procedure and revision surgery. In June, I had surgery. July through September were filled with healing, setbacks, crutches, fittings, and learning my body all over again. Through it all, I stayed present. I documented the journey. I let myself feel it. And when the holidays arrived—busy, beautiful, chaotic—I stayed present there too. I soaked up baking, ...
    Mehr anzeigen Weniger anzeigen
    27 Min.