This is MY STORY that I never thought I’d write, because I didn’t think it was all that inspirational. It flew off the keyboard! Thanks Sharla Jacobs! I never expected this to happen because I had given up long long ago of ever finding a man (or anyone for that matter) who could challenge me to never say the word “cant”!

We all are taught to TRY but we are not taught to “not think” that trying is what it takes or that trying or making an effort will result in the outcome you want.

I spent most of my life feeling handicapped by my height (I’m 5’1”) or astigmatism, or fear of heights, etc. As I got older, I developed the dreaded bunions that plagued my mom’s side of the family, along with osteoarthritis which deformed my mom’s hands, my grandmother’s, and the rest of the women on that side of the family.

A lumbar 5 operation for a blown disc that would have paralyzed me in three weeks had I not had emergency surgery, amplified the word “CAN’T”. I can’t get up the stairs, I can’t bend down and get back up off the floor, I can’t reach the top shelf, hell, I can barely reach the middle shelf. I can’t get up on the step ladder, I can’t get up in the truck, and eventually, I can’t leave the house in bad weather.

All that changed when the woman who was working for me in May 2023 asked if she could bring her friend to paint the front and back decks because he really needed the money. Sure, why not. I CAN’T do it and I needed someone to work for $15.00 because I was on a tight budget.

And that’s how I met a former championship bull rider, former professional baseball pitcher, finishing carpenter, and a life coach hard ass, tobacco chewing, foul-mouth, relentless trainer who mercilessly mocks me if the word “can’t” comes out of my mouth. A drop dead gorgeous man who had been injured so many times and yet because his rodeo star father never let him complain about pain, forced him to heal himself. A man who ranted on at me that I needed to start taking Moringa or Ashwagandha and to get off the computer and force myself to start walking. A man who bombed my phone or TikTok with videos about how to fight for yourself in the court system. Who forbade me to eat anything that had a word on a label I couldn’t pronounce or define. Who forced me to quit eating processed meats, cookies, and GOD FORBID, frozen food. A man who baked us cakes at midnight because store bought have preservatives and made ice cream until the machine broke.

Considering I was married to a gay man up until November 8, 2021 when he committed suicide and had to take care of his partner who had heart disease who I found dead face down on the floor on September 11, 2018, finding an alpha male so late in life has been an eye opener. I didn’t think toxic masculinity could be so refreshing. I also didn’t realize how often I let “CAN’T” ruin my life.

Tom said when I got sued by Armstrong Steel “YOU DO NOT NEED A LAWYER”! You do not have the money to hire one and being a genius, you can learn the law so get your ass upstairs, file a counterclaim, and get to work. Do NOT come into the garage (Workshop) and cry to me! Use your brain WOMAN, and fight and never give up no matter what.

Everyone needs a relentless personal coach. Not someone who validates your feelings. You could do shadow work and self-reflection, but what you REALLY need is someone who minces no words and tells you EXACTLY what your soul needs to hear, NOT, definitely NOT what you want to hear!

So, today, I found the box of disposal Swiffer Refill Pads, loaded the mop spray, and dusted the living room and hall. My feet felt like the bones were being crushed and my ankles felt like I had broken both of them. I took a break (pun intended). Tried again. Unloaded the dishwasher. Got that stabbing pain in my flank which is probably from the herniated discs in my back or another kidney stone – could be both. Sat down again. Walked around a bit. Watched Sharla Jacobs in one of the Thrive Academy videos, then tried to resume dusting.

I’d like to utter the words and go lie down on a heating pad, but Tom said there’s no mercy in the bull ring or on the rodeo circuit. You cannot lie there in the dirt and expect to live for very long. You have to pick yourself up no matter what’s broken. Your body can heal itself because it HAS to.

The dishwasher is unloaded. I got the steam cleaner out to sanitize everything in the kitchen. I got one section done, 8 more to go. It’s a large kitchen. It’s not storming. I emptied the vacuum outside. I got three bags of kitty litter up the handicap ramp and into the house.

Once the stabbing in my flank eases up, I’ll resume housework.

The incentive to keep trying to do stuff that last week I wanted to say “I CAN’T” is Tom’s prediction that if I do NOT keep moving and try to do basic tasks that used to be easy five years ago, is that I WILL end up in a wheelchair feeling sorry for myself and I WILL end up being that old lady that talks about nothing but her aches and pains. I’ve met way too many of those old women taking care of my relatives as they got sick and ended up in nursing homes.

I CAN’T let THAT happen to me!