May 3rd, 1995- The Best Worst Day of My Life

May 3, 1995, just three weeks after my 19^th birthday- a day I’ll never forget. I was picked up after school at about 2:30pm and we were heading out for an adventurous afternoon.  Minutes later, we were involved in a serious car accident in what was one of the most dangerous intersections in the province at the time. School was over. Work was over. Sports were over. And, my new existence was about to begin.

There’s no need for all the details of years of countless appointments in search of answers and relief- neurosurgeons, vascular surgeons, orthopaedic surgeons, CT scans, MRIs, X-rays, massage, physio, chiro, acupuncture, acupressure, reiki, craniosacral therapy, botulin injections, cortisone shots, nerve blocks, and more. 

Instead, twenty-five years later, I sit back and think about the crash course I received in the game of life: a course in friendship, family, love, kindness, ego, pride, self-esteem, self-worth, self-pity, self-respect, resilience, courage, giving and receiving, success, and joy- a course that I am fully and completely grateful for, even though it was, without a doubt, the toughest course of my life. 

I was so young and had so much to learn! The things I wanted in life had always come relatively easy to me and I’m not certain that I had ever experienced the feeling of failure by that age. 

In the early days, my ego remained in fine form- I even went so far as to have my closest male friend and confidante piggyback me around, so people didn’t know I was struggling with walking. I wouldn’t go anywhere if we couldn’t pretend that things were “normal.” I was forced to wear my dad’s button up clothing in order to fit my “airplane brace,” which kept my arm at a 90-degree angle to my body. I was embarrassed, I was ashamed, and I was not okay. 

Not only had I lost some of my physical abilities, I had lost my whole sense of self and felt I had very little left to offer the world. I entered into relationships that I would have never previously deemed acceptable. I settled for cheating, emotional abuse, and disrespect. Everything I felt I had to offer the world had been taken away from me. I had always been the girl you could work on your car with, play sports with, go camping with. I was always helping and fixing things for others. 

My life was consumed with appointments and very few answers. Perhaps, the most difficult thing was not knowing what my future would look like. I spent years going back to school and having to stop, trying different jobs, and being forced to quit. After four and a half years and numerous attempts, I found a position that I could do at a tanning salon. Within a short period of time, I was offered the manager title. I had never dreamed of working at a tanning salon at the age of twenty-four, but at least I had found something where I had the flexibility to alternate sitting, standing, and walking around. It was a start. 

Shortly thereafter, there was a local opportunity to open a franchised location and my parents were willing to co-sign. I was excited to be able to fulfill my dream of becoming an entrepreneur, albeit it in a field I never had dreamed of and one that I was not passionate about. But, yet again, it was a start. It was a vivid reminder of the love and support of my family and how fortunate I was. 

Before long, the salon was broken into and the computer was stolen, along with products, bed stereos, and more. And, while it was obviously a negative experience, it was, also, a gift. I was given the opportunity to see my team come together and do something solely out of kindness with no personal benefit.

Without my knowledge, the young team went through every invoice ever sold and entered the minutes back into the new computer and went through every single appointment booking and re-entered them into the system, thus allowing us to see exactly how many minutes customers had left.

This was a gift of their time and I was grateful then, but even more grateful as the years passed. It was a small gesture, but it was so meaningful. I was learning how to accept, receive, and just say, “Thank you,” without feeling the need to always do something in return. This was something they wanted to do and it was up to me to graciously receive their gift.

Growing up, I had always dreamed of having a large group of friends. I was envious of my cousin who had droves of friends, but post-accident I was quickly taught the meaning of true friendship. I wasn’t always able to go out and do the things that people in their early twenties do, I had no money to do what people in their early twenties do, and I generally wasn’t physically able to do what people in their early twenties do. This was a true test of friendship and it quickly became evident who my friends were and what I meant to them.

Friendship is like a marriage- in good times and bad, in sickness and in health. Or, as I put it back then, who’s going to be there for you when the s#$t hits the fan? I had often been the giver. I hadn’t often been a receiver and I struggled with it. Some people surprised me in a positive way and others disappointed, but nonetheless, I very clearly knew who was there for me when I had nothing to offer in return, except my presence. 

My roommate and best friend at the time would want to go out for dinner when she got paid. I wasn’t working much or at all and wasn’t always up for it. She would tell me that I was the person she wanted to go with and to get my ass in gear because there would be many times in the future that I could return the favour. She wasn’t keeping score on who did or paid for what.

My massage therapist became my saviour. In addition to my three visits per week, she would check in on me and, on very bad days, would arrive at my house late at night with her massage table, Doritos, and Diet Coke, and spend time making sure that I would be able to get some sleep. She was there for me at every turn and I am forever grateful. In fact, I dedicated my bouquet at my wedding to her, her generosity, her willingness to help, and her friendship.  

On bad days, friends would come by and cook dinner, mow the lawn, and help with household tasks. And others… well, they disappeared.

I recall my twenty-seventh birthday clearly. As previously mentioned, I had always dreamed of having a huge group of friends. I booked a reservation for fifteen people and a mass group showed. It was what I had always wanted. My wish had come true. Or had it? At one point during the evening, I sat in a corner booth for a few moments and surveyed the room. How many of these people were my true friends? How many were there or would be there when the s^&t hit the fan? I no longer felt the need for a huge group- that was my ego’s desire. 

My father was right; if you have a handful of true friends, you are very wealthy. It’s all you need. You only have so many hours in a day; whom do you choose to invest your time in? I had learned an invaluable lesson in friendship. 

Growing up, I had always been the tough nut in relationships. I didn’t put up with s&*t. I was never pressured into drinking, sex, or drugs, and if I didn’t feel respected in a relationship, I called it off. I had very clear boundaries and was very headstrong. I was confident that I brought a lot to the table and had a lot to offer. 

And, then, I got into my accident. My confidence waned. My self-worth went into the toilet. I tolerated relationships that I wouldn’t have in my teens. I stayed in a relationship full of lies and almost married into it. I did indeed love him with all my heart and desperately wanted the same love in return. However, he wasn’t willing to accept all of my physical limitations and, while I completely respected that position, I didn’t respect how he handled the situation. Three months before our wedding, we cancelled it after I discovered he had cheated on multiple occasions.

My head knew that the cancellation was for the best, but my heart was broken and the situation only further instilled my feeling that I was damaged goods and would be lucky to find someone who would “put up with me.” Granted, life in a relationship with me was not easy. It came with hours of massaging, tears, sleepless nights, countless appointments, me not being able to commit to doing things, me paying the price for things I did choose to do, and a constant fear of what the future may hold. 

The saying, “Hindsight is 20/20,” isn’t always true- in my next relationship, it most certainly wasn’t. I met him in a college course and he did everything to win my affection. He’d even drive three and a half hours to deliver flowers and mow my lawn. Eventually, we moved in together and slowly and unbeknownst to me at the time, he destroyed what was left of my self-worth. Subtle comments about the meals I cooked, what I wore, how I looked, slowly took their toll. I remember the day that he passed me in the hall and pinched my stomach and said, “Too bad you can’t work out anymore. You’re getting a little chunky.” 

My brother and I get along, but we aren’t what I would call super close. I’m not even sure if he remembers what he said to me one day that hit me over the head like a hammer- “You realize that you’re exactly the same person you were before, you just can’t do some of the things, right?” That same day, I asked my boyfriend to leave. What a simple, yet powerful statement. We truly are meant to be human beings, not human doings. 

It was after this relationship that I began to try and rebuild my sense of self. I sought counselling and a life coach and began trying to find a new, healthy sense of normal. I no longer “needed” to be in relationships because they had medical benefits or because this may be my only chance. 

After feeling let down so many times, I had to dig deep to find the courage and resilience to carry on. There were some very dark days. Some days that I struggled to put one foot in front of the other- sometimes literally and sometimes figuratively. Each time I thought I was making progress, I felt like I fell off a cliff on the other side. 

My tanning salon was a great example- it was the same company that I was successfully able to work at, but when my equipment delivery came, it was configured differently and I was unable to clean it with my physical limitations. What was supposed to be a step in the right direction became a huge financial stress for my parents and for me. I was forced to find a manager who could run it, while I was dependent on my parents to help make payroll when I couldn’t. My vision of becoming a multi-unit operator became a forced solo sale. 

But, out of that “failure,” came my desire to share my story. I needed to create a flexible working environment for myself and began speaking and working with youth. I went back to school to become a counsellor and started using my learning and struggles to give back. And, I was good at it. People were making progress. People were making life changes. The problem- I wasn’t buying what I was selling. I was reliving what was a negative in my life over and over. And, I had to take a break from it. I knew it was my passion and I knew I’d come back to it, but I didn’t know when and I didn’t know how. I had to reframe my experience into a positive. I took a break from sharing my story. But, I’m back!

Twenty-five years later, I have found someone who loves me for and despite my limitations, I have some of the very best friends around, I have an amazing family, I’m a multi-unit business operator, and I have two children that I wasn’t sure that I’d be able to have. 

Without my accident, I’m not sure that I would have learned so many of these lessons in such a timely way. I have been able to find a new course where I have found joy, passion, love, true friendship, happiness, and a regained sense of self-worth. 

All of these life lessons, learning, and struggles combined are key factors in the creation of and the passion I have for “The PERFUCT Club.” 

So, May 3^rd, 1995- I hate you and I salute you. My body is still angry, but my head and my heart have made peace with you. You will continue to be the best worst day of my life. You are my hero and my nemesis. And, without a doubt, you are a huge reason why I am who I am today.