At a young age, I was emancipated from my parents. I became the 2nd case in the state of Utah to become emancipated at that age. I had endured all forms of abuse in my life by that time in my life.

I paid rent through high school, renting a small basement apartment while carrying 3 part-time jobs my senior year. During this time I had felt an incredibly heavy depression and was experiencing suicidal thoughts. I felt lost and alone. I felt I didn’t have a purpose for living in this world anymore.

Until one day I shared my story with a handful of strangers during a state wide competition for FCCLA up in Ogden. There were various categories to compete in. I choose speaking. I gave a presentation on recognizing the signs of abuse and how it impacts our community.

Receiving positive praise and sharing my story that day ignited something in me. It was an A-ha moment of sorts. I realized that sharing my story with others really filled my cup. It was helping me heal. I had found my purpose!

I went on to give more presentations at various events; the principles academy, school assemblies, classrooms, boys and girls clubs, rotary clubs, team events and firesides. The more I told my story, the more I grew as a person in my journey of healing.

One day, I was giving a presentation at a school. At the end of the presentation a tall man walked up to me with his wife and said he was inspired by my story. He and his wife invited me to lunch to talk more about it. With a growling belly from skipping breakfast that morning, I obliged and went to lunch with him and his wife.

I met them for lunch at a local restaurant. I sat down at the table where the man and his wife greeted me with a stack of books. As I eye the stack of books wondering where this was going. He gently pushed them across the table towards me. With a look of puzzlement I said, “What are these?” He said, “They are all books I’ve written”.

I looked down at the books in amazement and began to scan the titles; “Puppies for Sale”, “Chicken Soup for the College Soul”, “The Most Popular Stories” “Dan Clark’s Humor File” and more. I thought, “Wow, this guy is an author. That’s so cool!” His name was Dan Clark.

He then proceeded to tell me how incredible he thought my story was and that I too should write a book. A book about my life and story.

Me? Write a book? That seemed like an insurmountable task. Would people even read it?

He told me that my story could help so many people by sharing it and publishing it into book form. I kind of brushed it off by telling him I would think more about it and thanked him for being so kind.

We had a nice lunch and conversation that day. As the lunch came to a close and we all stood up to leave the restaurant, he looked at me and reminded me how writing a book and sharing my story would truly impact others. He was confident that this was something I needed to do. Somewhere deep inside it resonated with me, but I filed that feeling away for the moment.

I thanked him again and gave him and his wife a hug as we parted ways. I was 18 years old at the time.

In the following days, weeks and months, I kept on thinking about what he had said to me that day and the impression my story had made on him. His words kept coming to the fore front of mind.

I thought, “If my story had that kind of impact on someone of his caliber, maybe sharing it with more people in the form of a book could truly impact others too.”

Unable to forget his words, I couldn’t ignore it anymore. So, I sat down at the computer one day and typed “Chapter One”……