Lessons Learned The Hard Way
An Excerpt from the newest book from Betsy Chasse
Lessons Learned The Hard Way is Now Available
Introduction:
The morning after my accident, when I realized I could not plant my feet on the floor and take on the day with my normal tenacity, grit, and grind, a thought popped into my head. What lesson am I now learning the hard way?
I turned fifty-three just a few weeks prior to this event, which happened in late March, and have spent some time reflecting on my life and the decisions I have made that led me to this very moment. Splayed out on my bed, my ankle a dangling particle, I consider that I am a victim of my own stubbornness.
I go back to the evening of the accident. I had just ended a phone call with someone who was supposed to be my business partner and, more importantly, a friend who had done something so unethical and abusive to me that I finally stood up for myself. This may sound surprising since I am a strong, independent woman; to most, I seem like the type of woman who always stands up for herself.
What I was awakening to was that I am a strong woman who often accepts what is and makes it work instead of standing up and saying no at the onset. In my moment of standing up and saying no, I quite literally fell to the ground and broke my ankle. Clearly, I needed practice at this new art of setting boundaries and respecting myself—lessons I had yet to learn so late in life.
The irony is that after that call, I had a choice: either consume a bottle of wine or take a short walk to the hot tub and submerge my hurt in a boiling bowl of bubbles. I am a Pieces; we like water. I chose the latter, which came as a surprise because usually wine was my go-to, but I had decided almost a year earlier to slow the roll on the drinking. I had been working out three times per week and was trying to focus on my body and my health.
The accident was a catalyst for what on the surface appeared to be a series of unfortunate events but would later be revealed as a reminder that the forces of nature (or the Universe, source, God, whatever your name for it) mean business and if one refuses its call, it will take you there anyway.
After the accident, I had major surgery, could not work or walk for four months, gained ten pounds, lost all my money, was evicted from my apartment, and lost most of my friends. If it was able to be lost, I lost it and added it to my ass.
And so, I did what I always do in a crisis; I went into survival mode—a skill I have honed over my entire existence. Crisis is my sweet spot; it’s where I shine. Like a magician, I have always been able to pull a rabbit out of my hat in what seems like the darkest of hours.
But this time, it felt different. I was tired of producing roses from my shirtsleeves to cover the stench of shit I found myself surrounded by. I fought hard for a few weeks until the day I went to court and lost my case, after which I sat in my car alone and cried. I had nothing left, no more hidden aces. I honestly didn’t care anymore. I didn’t.
I screamed “FUCK YOU, BoB!” (BoB is my nickname for the invisible source we all know exists but shall be unnamed).
“Fuck you, BoB.” I am an awesome mom, who has provided for my kids on my own in a world that does everything in its power to force suffering on women who don’t play by the rules.
“Fuck You, BoB.” I am an award-winning filmmaker who has created works that have legit - like no bull - shifted the paradigm.
“Fuck You, Bob.” I am a writer, a creative, an artist who has been able to survive and sometimes even thrive in a world that has no appreciation for the arts and prefers our artists starving and begging.
“Fuck you, BoB.” I am a force of nature! A change maker. I create BIG THINGS!
Snot ran from my nose, my throat burned, and my vision was blurred by searing, hot tears of rage. Passersby moved as far away as possible as they walked past my car, probably wondering if I was armed and dangerous.
At this point, I had nothing left in me and so I just sat there in my car outside the Ventura County Courthouse, utterly broken.
And I heard a voice within me. “I know you are; I’ve been waiting for you to remember...”
“Remember what?” I asked.
“…remember that you are a force of nature, that you have the capacity and the abilities to create change—to create beautiful, impactful, profound things that change the world.”
And it all came flooding back. In 2004, I was young, bold, and filled with the belief that I could do anything. I was a co-creator of a film that made a major impact, and for a while, I rode that wave until the self-doubt crept in. When I began to wonder if it was a fluke, this sense of imposter syndrome hit hard. I got divorced in 2012 and the world I had built came crashing down. The fear of failure took hold, and with it came the belief that I wasn’t enough to be the person who made great things. I didn’t have the pedigree; I was just a girl faking it who would never actually make it. I didn’t deserve to have it all.
And so, for the next ten years, right up until March 23, 2023 (the one-year anniversary of my mother's death) I ran a race to the finish line in survival mode, hustling my way through, producing ponies out of piles of manure, existing the only way I thought I knew how based on what I believed I deserved.
I spent a little over 10 years accepting “what is” and making it work, forgetting who I was and what I was capable of. I pretended to be strong while allowing people, places, things, times, and events to force me into survival mode instead of taking charge, speaking up, and using my innate gifts to create from the fire in my soul.
The voice of BoB echoes through me, “You forgot that trust and faith are verbs and that we are a team. You’ve been going it alone for too long. I’m sorry it had to be so violent, but It’s time for you to wake up again; the world needs you. YOU need you.”
And I let go and let BoB. And ya know what? I ended up finding my dream apartment with gorgeous natural light and a huge patio. And my old apartment complex is mired in a series of lawsuits about nasty mold spewing up from the sinks.
I found my true friends and a love of just being on my own and doing my thing.
I started projects I actually enjoy—endeavors I love that inspire me to WANT to create instead of feeling I need to out of desperation.
On the darkest night, I stopped running, I had no choice; BoB literally took me down to the ground to remind me to slow down, trust the process, and listen more deeply to the messages showing up for me. I will be OK. It won’t always be easy, but I will be OK.
As you read the chapters in this book, written by brave humans willing to share their darkest moments that brought them to light, remember that. You will be OK, too.
Lessons Learned The Hard Way is Now Available!
I am thrilled to be a part of a fantastic group of writters! Writers, you support independent authors when you purchase this book!
We've all experienced the highs and lows life throws our way. But isn't that the point? To experience life in all its ups and downs and hopefully walk away with a nugget of wisdom. Join 23 brave souls as they share their Lessons Learned the Hard Way. Funny, insightful, raw and authentic stories of the trials we all face, and the paths taken to happier, healthier and much less dramatic lives.
Written by:
Vanda Mikoloski, Robert Plagmann, Dr. Theresa L. Smith, D.C., Claudia Micco, Kerry Jehanne-Guadalupe, Kelly Sophia Grace, J.D., Allisun Sturges, Marie Benard, Rebecka Gregory, Kian Xie, Tobias Forrest, Jennifer McLean, Vienne Cordet, Roberto Paez, Rissy Lynn Smith, Mary Adams, Alison Hill, Jara Lindgren, Wayne D. Carter, Keri Fulmore, Dr Johanneke Kodde, Kristen Marie, Gregory Kirschenbaum
Created by Betsy Chasse - Award Winning Filmmaker "What The Bleep Do We Know?!" and Best-Selling Author "Killing Buddha"