Month: November 2025

Pain, Perseverance & Possibility

Pain, Perseverance & Possibility

A Thanksgiving Message For Anyone Struggling

 

Thanksgiving week always makes me pause, breathe, and step back into gratitude, but this year, that feeling hit me in a much deeper way. Maybe it was the timing, maybe it was the experience itself, or maybe it was because of everything that led me here—but this past week in Vegas reminded me exactly why I chose this life, and why I continue to push myself to live amplified, even when it hurts.

Our family goes to the Formula One races every year—this was our third—and while we love the energy, the cars, and the whole spectacle of it, it is absolutely not an easy environment for someone with mobility challenges. As an above-knee amputee, I’ve learned that accessibility can be a coin toss on a good day. Vegas during F1 weekend takes that to a whole different level. Elevators that don’t work. Escalators that suddenly shut down. Crowds compressed shoulder to shoulder. Long detours around track barriers. Rain. Stairs. More stairs.

 

 

But this year came with a twist. Not only did we pack in a full day of walking, navigating the Strip, dodging people, climbing stairs, and exploring all the fanfare, but that night, after all of that, I finally checked off something that had been sitting on my bucket list for years: going to a Vegas nightclub.

And I didn’t just go. I went all in—heels, dancing, crowds, the whole thing.

What made the night more meaningful was the backdrop of everything my body was going through. My newest socket, trimmed higher because I’d lost some femur during surgery, still hasn’t fully broken in. The rubbing along my groin becomes a four-inch strip of fire by the end of the day, the kind of raw, stinging pain that makes even a shower burn. Think blister-on-your-heel level pain, except in a place you can never bandage. Add rain, cold weather, slick sidewalks, and 36,000 steps—the most I’ve ever walked in a single day even when I had two legs—and you can imagine how I felt by the time we walked into the club.

But then the music hit. And the energy shifted. Surrounded by my husband and my kids—my favorite people—and swallowed up in the beat and the lights, I felt alive. Not amputee alive. Not “making the best of it” alive. Just fully, completely alive.

In that moment, I didn’t care that no one around me knew I was an amputee. I didn’t care that all my weight was sinking into my good foot, making my toes tingle with pressure. I didn’t care that I had a raw mark on my inner thigh or that I was balancing on heels after a marathon day of movement. I was simply living the moment I had dreamed of for years.

And when I finally got home, when I finally took my leg off and felt that flood of relief wash over my whole body, I laid in bed and thought, “This… this is why I chose amputation.” I didn’t take my leg off to watch life happen from the sidelines. I didn’t choose this path to let pain, friction, or inconvenience dictate my happiness. I chose it to reclaim my life. And nights like that one remind me why I fought so hard to get here.

But here’s the part I don’t ever want people to misunderstand: none of this is easy. I’ve had people say I make it look effortless, or that they shouldn’t complain about their injuries because I “went through so much worse.” But I don’t see it that way. I don’t compare. I don’t downplay anyone’s struggle. And I definitely don’t wake up immune to the hard parts of this life. What I do wake up with is a mindset that says:

I chose this path, so I’m going to show up for it.

That mindset is the difference between living fully and shrinking back from life. It doesn’t mean there aren’t setbacks. There absolutely are. I have blisters. I have raw skin. I have days where I struggle to put my leg on. I have moments where the socket fit isn’t perfect. I have times where the thought of stairs makes my stomach drop. But the alternative—the idea of sitting in a hotel room, letting my family go off and make memories without me—is far more painful than any physical friction I deal with.

That’s why I said no when my husband offered to get me a wheelchair. Not because I’m stubborn, but because while I can, I will. There may be a day when I truly need one. But that day is not today. Today, I push. Today, I build stamina, strength, grit, and resilience. Today, I invest in the future version of myself who might not have the option anymore.

That’s the heart of this whole experience—and the message I want to share this Thanksgiving.

Life will never hand us perfect circumstances. Pain, obstacles, loss, grief, inconvenience—these things don’t discriminate. But neither does opportunity. If you want something badly enough, whether it’s dancing in a nightclub, traveling, adventuring, walking that extra mile, or simply showing up to life with your whole heart, then you owe it to yourself to try. You owe it to yourself to dream. And you owe it to yourself to change the mindset that tells you “I can’t.”

Because “I can’t” is almost always a lie.

“I can’t right now” is more accurate—and far more temporary.

 

 

So this week, I invite you to sit with two things:

First, gratitude.

Not just the obvious stuff—family, home, health—but the deeper gratitude for the strength you didn’t know you had and the moments you didn’t think you’d get to experience.

Second, possibility.

What do you dream of doing? What do you secretly hope you’re brave enough to try? What have you convinced yourself is off-limits?

Write it down.

Name it.

Claim it.

Then take one step—just one—toward it.

Because if a tired, rain-soaked, blistered amputee can take 36,000 steps in a day, climb broken escalators, dance in heels until almost 2 a.m., and fall asleep smiling…

Then you can take one step toward the life you want, too.

 

 

 

Here’s to you and a beautiful Thanksgiving with loved ones.

May you find joy in the moment and gratitude in the little things!

Until next time,

Be Healthy,

Be Happy,

Be YOU!!

Much love,

 

Just Get Started

Just Get Started

Momentum Begins with One Step

 

 

As the holidays creep up—and let’s be honest, sprint toward us—I always feel that yearly tug in a million different directions. I tell myself, This is the year I’ll slow down. This is the year I’ll savor the moments. And every year, without fail, I’m suddenly overscheduled, overtired, and fully submerged in the holiday hustle. Maybe you feel that too: the pull to do everything, be everything, and somehow stay balanced through it all.

So today, I want to dig into something that feels especially timely: getting started. Not after the holidays, not when life slows down—because we both know it won’t—not when it feels convenient or perfect, but now. Because “someday” is the biggest dream-killer we let linger in our lives.

If you’ve followed me through the last five and a half years of this podcast, you already know I’m not a New Year’s resolutions girl. I don’t believe in them. The moment we attach the idea of January 1st to our goals, we create an escape hatch where quitting feels expected. And most people do quit. Not because their goals weren’t worthy, but because the whole concept of a resolution is built around hype, not habit.

So let’s shift the mindset. Let’s reclaim the idea that today is always the right day to begin.

 

It took a lot of practice in safe areas before I could navigate rugged, mountain terrain.

 

There’s a quote I love by Zig Ziglar: “You don’t have to be great to start, but you have to start to be great.” And it hits me hard every time because I’ve lived that truth. I think of my husband explaining his work to our boys. Half the time I’m listening like he’s speaking another language. I’m not dumb—I’m just not educated in his world. And he’d be just as lost if I handed him a halter and asked him to read a horse’s body language.

Greatness, skill, confidence—they aren’t innate. They’re built through countless clumsy, uncertain beginnings.

 

And yet, I’ll be honest with you: I’ve held myself back from starting things I deeply want to do, simply because I wanted to be great before daring to begin. I didn’t want to stumble. I didn’t want to look foolish. I didn’t want to muddle through the awkward first steps.

Sound familiar?

But the truth is this: we must begin before we’re ready. We must risk the messy beginnings. We must accept that expertise is the reward of showing up, not the prerequisite.

 

 

And nowhere has this been more true for me than in my life as an amputee.

Arthur Ashe said, “Start where you are. Use what you have. Do what you can.” If that doesn’t describe the amputee journey, I don’t know what does.

Where you are right now might be a hospital bed. It might be a physical therapy room. It might be your living room floor trying to figure out how to put on your first liner. You might be in the trust stage with your prosthesis—or the frustration stage. Maybe both.

But wherever you are, you have something you can begin with.

 

Even in the hospital bed I was journaling, goal setting and reading about ways to attack my goals and letting go of the “Hurry”.

When I was recovering from surgery this summer, stuck in a hospital bed, I couldn’t walk. I couldn’t train. I couldn’t be in my prosthesis. But I could start lining up appointments. I could coordinate with insurance. I could talk to my prosthetist and prepare for the moment my surgeon cleared me. I wasn’t waiting for life to happen to me—I was setting the stage.

And when that first prosthesis went on, and it felt like a ten-pound concrete block strapped to my body, all that preparation mattered. My muscles were weak. My endurance was gone. And I had absolutely NO idea how exhausting simply walking to the end of my block would be. But that’s where starting came in.

I didn’t begin by walking miles. I began by walking houses.

I didn’t build strength through ease. I built it through effort.

One of the best things I ever did was join a 175-mile virtual challenge. At the time, I thought, Two miles a day? Easy. Wrong. My first day wasn’t even a quarter mile before I had to stop. But every day, I pushed a little farther—one house, two houses, one street, one block. Eventually, those tiny victories strung together into big victories. And then into medals. And then into confidence.

Today, I’ve completed around twenty-five virtual races. And I didn’t start able to do any of it. I started barely able to walk in my own house.

That’s what starting does. It reshapes your identity from the inside out.

 

So here’s my challenge to you: begin today. Not a week from now. Not when you “feel ready.” Not when you believe you’re strong enough or smart enough or capable enough. Begin now, with exactly what you have in this moment.

Pick one goal—not fifteen. One thing you’ve been afraid to start or have kept putting off. One thing that makes your heartbeat pick up when you imagine accomplishing it.

Then write down the steps. What can you do today? What’s the smallest action that moves you forward?

You don’t need perfect conditions. You need commitment.

And as you start, give yourself grace. Some days will be setbacks, especially if you’re healing. Some days your body won’t cooperate. Some moments will feel defeating. But don’t let a bad day turn into a bad week, and don’t let a bad week become a lost year.

Warriors rise. Warriors begin. Warriors keep going.

I’m starting my own new goal today. I promise that. And I want to hear yours. Message me on Instagram at @BAWarrior360. Let’s do this together. Let me be your accountability partner if you need one.

Because the secret to getting ahead is simple: get started.

Have a blessed week ahead, and as always,

Be Healthy,

Be Happy,

Be YOU!!!

Much love,

 

 

Fittings and Sockets and Legs, Oh My!

Fittings and Sockets and Legs, Oh My!

Traveling The Yellow Brick Road of Amputee Life

 

In this episode, I want to talk about one of the biggest learning curves after limb loss — getting fitted for a prosthesis. Nobody really tells you how challenging this part can be. You think, “Okay, I’ll get my prosthetic leg or arm, strap it on, and get back to life.” But if only it were that simple, right? The truth is, it’s a process — one that takes time, patience, and a whole lot of communication with your prosthetist.

When I first started, I honestly thought it was going to be pretty straightforward. They’d take some measurements, make the socket, I’d try it on, and off I’d go. But wow, did I learn quickly that’s not how it works. Every limb is unique. Every body changes — sometimes from morning to night. So that “perfect fit” we all hope for doesn’t just happen once and stay that way. It’s something that evolves.

And that means working with your prosthetist becomes this back-and-forth relationship. There’s a lot of give and take involved. They’re the experts in design and fit, but you are the expert in how it feels — and that matters just as much.

Now, I’ll admit — in the beginning, I had my fair share of frustration. When the socket rubbed wrong or my limb was sore, I’d get upset and think, “Why isn’t this working?” It was easy to blame the prosthesis or think the prosthetist did something wrong. But with time, I started realizing there was a little user error in there too. Sometimes I wasn’t putting it on right. Sometimes I didn’t pay attention to small aches that turned into bigger problems. And sometimes… I just didn’t know what I didn’t know.

That’s a big part of this journey — learning to take accountability where it’s due. Not in a shameful way, but in an empowering way. Once we start owning our part in the process, things really start improving. We ask more questions. We write down what we are feeling. We pay attention to pressure spots and skin changes. And most importantly, we communicate all of that clearly with our prosthetist.

Change happens!

Teamwork and communication are key!

 

Because here’s the thing — they can’t feel what you feel. They can’t fix what they don’t know about. So, if something doesn’t feel right, say it. Speak up. Be honest, even if it feels awkward. That’s how you get the best outcome.

If you’re new to being an amputee, remember this: it’s okay to not have it all figured out. You’re learning. This whole process — from fitting to comfort to walking confidently again — it’s a marathon, not a sprint. You’ll get there. Just keep showing up, keep asking questions, and keep working with your prosthetist as a team.

Because at the end of the day, this isn’t just about a prosthesis fitting right — it’s about you finding your rhythm again, your confidence, your life.

You are a warrior! It’s time to unleash that warrior and gain back your independence.

Have a beautiful week ahead, and as always,

Be Healthy,
Be Happy,
Be YOU!!!

Much love,

Take the Drive-Roll Down the Windows

Take the Drive-Roll Down the Windows

Enjoying Your Life RIGHT NOW

 

“Want to go for a drive?”

This simple phrase sends my pups into a frenzy! Their excitement is overflowing and their  joy is tangible!

This energy is what we should be living for each day, but when we are struggling we find ourselves consumed and can only see the problems, to the positives.

I remember coming back home after losing my mom. I had spent a full month back in Illinois helping my family navigate our loss and returning to my life here in Arizona seemed surreal. My mom and I were best friends, I called her everyday, mostly just for small talk but she was a great listener in times of need. I vividly remember one day, not long after the funeral, driving in my car and thinking, “I need to call monad tell her about….” when my heart dropped and I realized for the first time that she wasn’t ever going to be there again for my call. At that moment I felt the whole world must see the tears streaming down my face and hear my heart ripping in two. At the red light I looked to my left and to my right at the cars on either side of me. I knew they had to be seeing my pain, wondering what could be making me this sad, but instead I saw people in their own world, signing along to music, talking on their phone, laughing with their friends. No one saw my pain! They were living their life, and my life was at a stand still.

That was the moment that I realized that no matter what I was going thro9ugh, the world kept going, the hours kept passing, the days kept moving forward.

I have never felt so alone in my sorrow as I did in that split second at a red light.

What I learned was that no matter what was happening in my life, the world kept turning and I was there and I had purpose.

I firmly believe that each morning I wake and have breath in my lungs that I am to serve a purpose. That is the day when my thinking changed and for the better. Yes, I need to deal with my pain, but I cannot let it run my life and destroy my and my goals.

Even when things had hit rock bottom for me, with my mom’s passing, I had a family, healthy sons, a loving husband, my father. I may have had a bum leg, but I also had creativity, energy, drive, and passion.

 

My dogs, here,  just living in the present. No looking back and no worrying about tomorrow.

My point: No matter what struggles we face in life, we have even more things to be grateful for. We have people in our lives worth fighting for, and we have PURPOSE!

So often we forget to find joy in the simple things, especially when we feel frustrated, in pain, or fearful, but they are still their, it’s just that our focus has shifted away from good and positive to negativity and al that is falling apart.

This week, I want you to find your joy again. I want you to see past your pain and struggles and find the purpose joy my dogs find in an open window on a drive. Find the beauty in the little things and count your blessings!

 

 

This week our battlecry is simple: Seek the positive and blessings in your life.

Find joy in the small things, don’t allow negativity, pain, and fear to derail you so much that you forget to see all the good around you.

This is a choice, and one we must profess everyday, lest we forget.

Be strong, dear warriors, and find your purpose and passion.

This valley will end, as all cycles do in life, just don’t sit their waiting for the struggle to end to find happiness, you must seek it now, and when you do you will find that your situation won’t feel as bleak and hope will rise up in you.

 

So get after it and seek the positive.

Don’t wait to enjoy the drive.

Get out there, roll down those windows and let the wind hit your face. I bet you’ll feel more alive than ever and find inspiration in your life once again.

I pray you find joy in the little things this week and until next time,

Be Healthy,

Be Happy,

Be YOU!!!

 

Much love,

 

Live courageously! Live in the present!