And why I have every right in the world to hate May
Yesterday, I was out on a walk to meet an old friend. It was one of those early Spring days in Chicago — that rare moment when the sun actually feels warm again, and you can smell something green in the air for the first time in months.
And as the wind wrapped around me, I found myself thinking:
I have every right in the world to hate May.
Here’s why:
In 2010, I was in a hit-and-run that rolled my car on the expressway. I landed upside down right between where the Kennedy splits off to the Edens. If I’d been a few feet in either direction… this story would be very different.
In 2014, my dad had a heart transplant. A miracle, yes — but also the traumatic crescendo of years of watching him slowly deteriorate and wondering if he’d survive long enough to get the call.
In 2018, my husband, Lloyd, passed away. May, again.
A few years later, my dad lost his battle with lung cancer that doctors expected him to beat. Also in May.
And just last year — another May, of course — someone I believed could be my future left with zero warning. Gut punch.
I mean… seriously, May.
What the actual hell?
And yet… I don’t hate May.
Not anymore.
Because here’s what’s also true:
I survived that rollover. I climbed out with only minor injuries (and a new rip in the knee of my favorite jeans — a now funny story for another time). That freak, terrifying moment reset how I think about time, fate, and purpose.
My dad’s transplant gave us almost ten extra years. That’s ten birthdays. Ten Christmases. Ten conversations I wouldn’t trade for anything.
I got to experience deep, life-changing love with Lloyd who was an incredible man. Not everyone gets that. I did.
I started my business, Sprk’d, in May. That wild leap taught me more about myself — my strength, my creativity, my limits — than anything else ever has.
And that breakup? His loss.
So what’s the difference between hating May and living through it with grace?
Resilience.
Not the kind you slap on a vision board. The kind you earn — moment by moment, choice by choice, breath by breath.
Why Resilience Matters Now More Than Ever
The world is spinning fast. People are burning out, breaking down, and trying to keep it together while everything feels like it’s on fire — politically, economically, emotionally.
You don’t need more hustle. You don’t need another to-do list or productivity hack.
You need resilience.
You need a way to live through the chaos without letting it harden you.
You need to know how to bend without breaking. To keep your heart open. To still believe in your future, even when life throws you a sucker punch.
How Do You Build It?
You don’t “decide” to be resilient.
You become it.
By showing up again and again. By letting people in when you’d rather isolate. By resting before you hit the wall. By choosing love and purpose, even when it hurts.
You build it when you take what was meant to shatter you and let it shape you instead.
And if you’re feeling like you’re somewhere in the middle of your own personal May — I want you to know: you’re not alone.
This is the work I do now.
I coach women and aspiring leaders through their own “WTF is this life even?” moments — the transitions, the reinventions, the rebuilding after everything you thought you knew shifts beneath your feet.
And not just to survive it…
To come out the other side more grounded, more powerful, more you than ever before.
🌱 If you’re ready to do that work, I’m here for it.
And if this post spoke to you — drop a comment or hit the heart.
I’d love to hear what your version of May has taught you.
