MY STORY
I’m sitting here at forty-two years old, staring at a choice.
Do I take the path with the least resistance — the comfortable, predictable path — or do I move toward something that feels more like me?
Something that feels aligned with who I am… and the impact I want to have?
These “gut decisions” aren’t new to me. I’ve been making them for as long as I can remember.
I think back to my childhood family room in Toronto. The brown couch. The faint hum of the television. And Oprah — my hero at the time — looking straight through the camera, as if she were speaking directly to me.
She said, “Follow your passion. The money will come.”
I was a teenager, maybe younger, but I believed her.
I wanted to make sure I was passionate about what I was doing because, as this lady on TV said, the money would come.
So I followed my passion. I chose dance.
When I told my aunt, she said something — I can’t remember the exact words — but I heard it as: Dancers don’t make money. You’ll be poor.
And just like that, a seed was planted.
I realized that if passion was important, so was income. I couldn’t risk ending up in a life or marriage I was unhappy in, staying only because I couldn’t afford to leave. I wanted the freedom to make choices, not because they were safe, but because they were right for me.
That’s when the dream of becoming a dentist started to take shape.
Dentistry seemed perfect — good income, respected profession, flexibility, and the ability to give back. The only problem? I didn’t know a single dentist. The only one we knew was the one we visited twice a year.
It was an elite profession. Hard to get into. But I wanted it.
I wasn’t the smartest person in the room, but I was smart enough. And I believed in myself.
It took years of twists and turns, of studying and pushing and proving to myself that I could do hard things. And eventually, I made it into a Canadian Dental School.
Somewhere along the way, I met a phenomenal man. We built a loving marriage and had two beautiful kids. A partnership — something I had never seen modelled before — but somehow, it came into my life.
I graduated, worked as an associate, and loved it. I had done the hard thing. I had achieved the dream.
For five years, I worked steadily, but health concerns began to pull me back. Full-time dentistry wasn’t in the cards anymore. I thought the only way to stay in the profession was to buy a clinic.
But when I imagined it, I didn’t feel excitement. I felt dread.
I’ve always been someone who runs toward what I want. But this time, I didn’t move. I sat in discomfort, wondering why I was so out of alignment.
Six months of reading, thinking, and talking to my husband later, I understood:
Passion is my foundation. And if I’m only doing something for the money, I can’t do it.
Then one cool spring morning, walking my child to school, a mom struck up a conversation.
My child has ASD and ADHD. The school specialized in kids on the spectrum, but I felt like they were holding my child back, afraid to “stretch the elastic.”
I said as much to her, and half-joking, I added, “I’ll just start a school myself.”
She laughed. We kept talking. But on the way home, the words replayed in my head:
I’ll just start a school myself.
And suddenly, it didn’t sound like a joke.
Why not me?
I started researching, talking to anyone who might understand. But I quickly realized — no one was going to fund a school for someone they didn’t know.
And no one knew me.
Not my story.
Not my why.
That’s when it hit me: to create impact, you need influence. And to have influence, you need attention.
I love to write, but fewer people are reading now. The most powerful way to reach people? Video.
The problem was, I knew nothing about video or social media. Honestly, there are eighty-year-olds more tech-savvy than me.
But the purpose was there.
In ten minutes, I had written a list of fifty-two video topics — one for every week of the year — all drawn from my own experience raising my child and navigating the system.
So here I am, at my kitchen table, staring down two paths:
Buy a dental clinic and live a “comfortable”, safe life.
Or take the unknown road, put my family and myself out there, and try to help others.
I chose the second path.
Because it’s bigger than me.
Because I want my kids — and every family watching — to know that sometimes you have to create the change you want to see.
Even when it’s scary.
Even when it feels impossible.
Just like becoming a dentist. Just like building a life I love. Just like every hard thing I’ve ever done.
Back in the ’90s, Oprah told me that when you lead with passion, the money will come.
So here I am, stepping into YouTube, ready to make a difference, to create change, and to show every young girl who’s watching:
If you want something — and you’re willing to do the hard things — you can do it.
Because in the end… It’s just another hard thing.
Starting Scared: My Clueless Leap Into YouTube
It’s interesting, isn’t it?
The moment you decide to tackle something new — something unknown — your brain immediately serves up a buffet of fears and reasons why you can’t or shouldn’t do it.
Let me give you a personal example: I’m about to launch a YouTube channel. It’s a way to share ideas I’ve been sitting on for a while — but here’s the thing: I’m not an “expert” in this topic, instead I’m a mom on a mission.
At first, I feel that spark of excitement — but the deeper I dig in, the more overwhelmed I get. Suddenly, I realize there’s so much more to learn than I ever imagined. I’m not exactly tech-savvy, and I don’t even use social media — so that little voice in my head starts whispering: This is going to be hard.
When that voice creeps in, it brings friends:
Do you even know enough?
This is going to be so much work — can you really do it?
Will people even trust what you have to say?
How will you fit this in with everything else in your life?
What the heck is a thumbnail — and why do you need a “hook”? What even is a hook?
What’s a B-roll?
How do you edit a video?
…and the list goes on.
When this happens, I’ve learned to pause. I ask myself: What’s the single most important thing I can do right now — one step — to move forward? Because overwhelm is paralyzing, but one small step can shake you free and point you in the right direction.
For me, that first step was writing video scripts. Just writing. Once I did that, I started brainstorming channel names and sketching a logo. I gave myself a launch date. I picked a day to release videos. I watched tutorials about setting up a channel and what to expect.
And I realized — yes, this is going to be hard. Why? Because I have zero experience on YouTube. And when something is unknown, it’s scary — even for adults who have plenty of experience in other parts of life.
So if you’re standing at the edge of something new, something big, something that feels overwhelming — know this: you are not alone. Take one small step today. Then another tomorrow.
Here’s to being scared — and doing it anyway.