The following is excerpted from Evalogue.Life. To read the full article, CLICK HERE

I remember asking my boss for help a couple of years ago and it prompted me to write in my journal, “My younger self wouldn’t have done that.” Then, I wrote the part of my story that went from flying high to sinking to the depths before being lifted up and changed.  It’s my personal redemption story and it’s how I learned the power of love and grace. I’d like to share a brief version of that (very personall) tale as a writing example, and then dissect some storyboarding elements.  The purpose is to inspire you to record your own journey of transformation and growth. It’s what your family wants to read because these experiences become core to who you are.

Part I – The abridged version of my grace story

My younger self—the arrogant girl who thought she could do everything on her own—was struggling on all fronts. It was 2003, and at work, the family business was reeling from instability in our foreign markets. Something in me had made it my responsibility to fix everything, so I worked my guts out. I made good money, had a graduate degree, and the title of CEO before I was 30. I was distance running. On the weekends, I had as much fun as possible to relieve the stress.

Was I trying to make up for getting married right out of high school? Or was I tired of always being the responsible one? “I don’t believe in regret,” I told myself, so I proceeded to make a slew of decisions that I would, in fact, regret: drinking and partying. Y.O.L.O., right? I wanted to try everything, until I sensed that with one good tug, the knitting of my life would soon come apart. I had lost my faith, and faith in myself.

I never thought to reach out to anybody, partly because of pride and partly because I didn’t believe I deserved help. Cause and effect, or choices and consequences, were my creeds. On the surface, it looked like I had everything together, but inside I was spiraling into the depths. It was like I a strong swimmer on a bluebird day thinking that riptide signs didn’t apply to me. Plunging into the surf, I had a great time until emotional currents dragged me out.

I squinted at the shore but didn’t want to bother people having a good time. So I swam a little harder. I would not wave an arm to let anyone know I was in trouble. Not my friends, not my family, not anybody. I would figure it out.

It finally dawned on me that I needed help when I had stopped paddling. I was floating on my back now, just keeping myself from slipping under. Still, I couldn’t bring myself to ask for help until I finally understood the truth: I would drown without it.

To read the full article, CLICK HERE