🌟 Meet one of the brave voices behind our upcoming book Being Brave, coming this December 2024!
In her story, Changing Fear to Courage: It's Already There!, she shares how tapping into inner strength transforms fear into the power to face life's most daunting moments.
Her words are a reminder that courage and love are within us, waiting to guide us through even the darkest days. Stay tuned for more inspiring stories of bravery!
*Photo Credit Yvonne Marchese Photograghy
Jodi Schilling, MS Ed, is a decades-long educator and certified life coach for women, passionate about transforming life’s challenges into opportunities for deeper love and connection. A thought leader in emotional intelligence and mental health, Jodi empowers women to embrace acceptance and lead with grace in their families and professional lives. Through practical strategies and compassionate guidance, she shows women how to thrive as leaders, navigating mental health challenges with resilience and authenticity. Jodi believes in the power of brave stories to inspire growth and uplift others.
This story is proudly sponsored by Joanie Elizabeth, a licensed mental health counselor, mental performance coach, author, and speaker. Joanie is passionate about empowering individuals to align with their true desires and embrace fulfilling lives. Her support of this story reflects her unwavering commitment to helping others uncover their inner brilliance and courage. Thank you, Joanie, for championing this brave story.
Wellness With Joanie
Describe the moment when you knew you had to tap into your inner courage and make changes in your life.
I honestly first tapped into my inner courage before I was old enough to know that I was when my mom would lock herself in the bathroom and cry after my stepdad hit her. I remember taking on the responsibility of making life as easy as possible for her. I decided while sitting on the floor outside that bathroom door I was going to always be a good girl. That would be my role — be good, be happy, be helpful. When my sister was born and later my brother, I took on a protector role. There was a brave little girl in me from the beginning, but I wouldn’t see her for many years.
Walk us through the pivotal moment when you decided to act courageously. What was going through your mind? How did you feel at that moment?
When my parents would drink, they would fight. I had a spot at the top of the stairs on a small landing where I would perch myself and listen to the scary sounds of broken dishes, slamming doors, and the terrible sound of my mom being hit in the face. Then, even worse, her cries. The pivotal moment when I decided to act courageously was when I listened intently instead of hiding in my room under my covers. I wanted to understand so badly that I endured that fear and emotional pain to get all the information. I remember thinking, I have to help my mom. I decided that I had to be responsible. I had to take care of her.
I felt determined to do this. This decision would be a pattern I would repeat over and over, first as a big sister to my younger siblings, then as a wife to a husband with depression, an elementary teacher, a mom to kids with special needs, and finally, as a life coach. What I didn’t understand about this courage until very recently, though, is that this first decision to be brave in the face of fear as a little girl was a big part of who I am. And being brave was just as much for me — it was me taking care of myself.
What inspired or motivated you to take the courageous step you did? What were a few of the first steps you took? What major actions did you have to take?
I was motivated by something much bigger than me. It was my true inner being, the soul of who I really am, who was co-creating with God. The wisdom to have the idea to take care of my caregivers in order to keep myself safe was beyond the capability of a five-year-old. Of course, I didn’t know that at the time, but I truly believe that now. The first steps I took were to make things as easy as possible for my parents. Be good, be quiet, clean up messes, and get good grades at school. I would take major actions to keep our family secrets a secret, try to teach my younger siblings the rules of our family’s game, and eventually, but much later, tell my mom she didn’t have to accept the abuse.
Paint a picture of what your life was like before you encountered the challenge that called for you to summon your courage.
When my parents were not drinking, we had a wonderful family life full of fun and special memories. I remember building a new deck, planting flowers, going on camping trips and to Disneyland. We shared many special holiday traditions and beautiful times. There’s a coaching concept that says, “Life is 50/50,” meaning half positive and half negative all the time, and I can see that being true when I look back. Even when I contemplate the more recent losses and crises in my current life, this holds true. There are just as many beautiful, wonderful, happy experiences as the difficult times. It is what we focus on that grows.
Were there any doubts or fears you had to overcome before taking action? How did you manage them?
Interestingly, I did not doubt my ability to take care of my family as a child. I just did what I needed to do. However, when my own kids were diagnosed with autism, depression, borderline personality disorder, and most recently, acute psychosis, I had many doubts and fears, the worst being the doubting of my ability to keep them safe and also the fear of losing them, either through loss of life or a broken relationship. When each of my kids was in crisis, being hospitalized for suicidal thoughts, plans, or attempts, I had to draw upon deep faith. I had to trust that God, angels, and the Universe were with me and were also with them.
If I didn’t keep reminding myself of this, I would spiral into an abyss of deep, painful fear about losing them. This was not acceptable to my inner being — my role and purpose was to take care of everyone, and so I just kept doing that. I would take the next step even while I was in fear and use my faith to fuel me. Now, when I have doubts or fears, I use a combination of my new belief that my fear of not being enough is false, along with my faith that the Universe always has my back.
What were some of the challenges or obstacles you faced during your journey to overcome this particular challenge?
One of the biggest obstacles each time my family experienced loss or a crisis was the idea that it was my fault. That very first decision I made about my family’s wellbeing being my responsibility somehow twisted into “When things go wrong, it’s my responsibility and my fault.” This would be a core belief that I would have to overcome over and over — when my parents divorced, and my sister died in a car accident.
Then, later, when our first baby died at birth, and through the years of raising our kids with developmental and mental health needs, I had to work hard to change that belief. A counselor helped me to see that this was a trauma response, and a part of me was trying to keep myself safe by taking full responsibility for everything. That way, I could control everything. In hindsight, I recognize that as the challenges and crises occurred, I believed that I was fighting for my kids — to protect them and help them get the help they needed. I realized later that I was fighting for myself too — for the part of me that was not at fault, who was good enough no matter what was happening around me.
Tell us about a memorable anecdote or turning point in your courageous journey.
Reading The Gifts of Imperfection by Brené Brown was one of those moments in my life when I had a major turning point. It was the first time I understood that I did not believe I was worthy as a human being without doing good things in the world. Her idea of “hustling” for my self-worth struck a chord within me, and I saw the major events of my life through that lens of doing things for approval, acceptance, and love from others. It was then that my self-awareness journey started. This new perspective astounded me, and yet it gave me a new belief to embody: I was worthy already. I did not have to do all the things or be perfect to earn my worth.
And more than that, if this was true, then it would follow that I did not have to fear rejection from others. This belief has become my life’s work. It is taking shape into something I have intermittently known, but it’s a work in progress, still at fifty-six. After coaching many women, I see that for so many of us this is the key to our true peace. If we have this belief, we can align to who we really are with absolute freedom. I’ll be honest; I’m still in the messy part of it, feeling and believing it sometimes but slipping back to self-doubt and back again into worthiness — and I’m letting that be okay.
What role models or sources of support helped you stay strong and resilient?
Role models for me were always strong women. I had many within my family. My mom was one. Despite using alcohol to escape her pain not only from abuse, but also the losses of her own mom, dad, and grandparents as a young mom, she somehow still always found a way to make special memories for us as a family. She was an excellent cook, loved to decorate, and had a way of making special occasions extra special. My grandma was also strong and independent. She had lost my grandpa when I was two, but she was always there for family, always helping others, always positive. I was also inspired by my great aunt Joyce, who, despite having multiple sclerosis and being unable to walk, would lead her family with love, making sure everyone was included and everyone felt special. She was constantly so generous and loving to all. I was also that girl who watched Oprah after school. I was fascinated by her ability to provide a space for people to tell their stories and help us all find deep meaning in them. These strong, loving women taught me — that no matter how much pain and loss we endure — we can always choose to find joy, connection, love, and laughter.
How did this experience impact your life and your perception of courage?
While experiencing these big life events — witnessing abuse, losing my sister in an accident, losing our first baby at birth, having kids hospitalized with special needs, and then more recently, having loved ones experience suicidality or psychosis — counselors always say things to me like “You’ve been through so much.” There is always a part of me that doesn’t want that to be my story. These single events were traumatizing, yes, and taken over time in succession, have the potential to be cumulative and overcome me. I don’t want that to be the story, either. The story I want to keep at the forefront is to find meaning and purpose in the fact that I got through these experiences — and, therefore, I can get through anything. I also got my family through them, and not only that, we are stronger and closer as a family because we got through them.
My perception of courage is not so much about being brave through really hard, scary, or painful circumstances because I didn’t see myself as brave when I was going through them. Courage is more about facing what I’ve always been most afraid of–the fear that I was not enough. Now, at fifty-six, I’m finally connecting the dots of my life experiences to the soul of who I am. I can see the brave, strong, loving, smart, and resilient parts of me who have always been there. I can choose that story over the one that says I’m not enough or there’s something wrong with me. For many women, seeing our true selves, our souls, and the wholeness of who we are — and acknowledging the power in that — may be the most courageous act we do.
What lessons or wisdom have you gained from this experience that you’d like to share with others?
One huge lesson I’ve gained from seeing loved ones struggle with mental health is that it is traumatizing for everyone involved. Life is emotionally abusive — if we let it be. We are designed to want to get out of pain. We are programmed to enjoy life. Addiction, abuse, and substance use are all symptoms of trauma — all a function of that desire to get out of pain on some level.
My parents were doing the best they could. Some people say that’s condoning, but I think it’s accepting. It was not okay that my dad hit my mom, and at the same time, I knew that he was also suffering. He grew up being abused. His lived experience was seeing his parents get drunk and fight. Those neural pathways were wired in — not an excuse but perhaps a function of trauma.
I’ve radically accepted that it was the way it was for us in my family in the seventies. We were not broken, bad, or dysfunctional. We were all playing the cards we were dealt the best we could. Many, many days, we made happy, loving, and fun memories together. I love loud rock music because of my parents. They also taught me about work ethic and how to be an entrepreneur. My grandparents had a large chicken farm and sold eggs to grocery stores, and my parents had an electrician business. I had a wonderful, loving childhood. This worldview comes from the wise mind part of me. She’s empathetic and forgiving and sees things from a mature, knowing place. I tend to listen to her often because she makes me feel a sense of gratitude about my life.
Along with that, another lesson I’ve learned is that different parts of me played important roles in my life to keep me alive. All of these parts of me showed courage when the situation called for it. There’s a part of me who is outraged by both of my parents’ behavior. She fights for justice and protects the innocent, and her anger fuels me. She wants to break the cycles of abuse and trauma with a fiery passion. She believes that life is simply not supposed to have pain or suffering, and she won’t stand for it. I also listen to her and get on board with her, especially when she wants to break cycles. She played the leading role when I started my own family, driving me to be a cycle breaker. I was not going to medicate with alcohol, number one. Next, I would not allow anyone to physically or emotionally harm me or my kids. Period. That cycle was stopping with me. As a family, we will be close, healthy, loving, and stay together.
Which of these parts of me shows up with courage? I’d say both. And with that, allowing these parts of me to do their thing in their way, to accept their roles and embrace them for it also shows courage, but in the form of trust.
The biggest lesson I’m still learning is this one — to see all the parts of me with love and compassion and to let me be all of me, knowing that there are no bad parts. That’s my most powerful, healing, and profound work.
What unexpected or positive outcomes emerged from your courageous actions?
One unexpected and positive outcome is the fact that my kids see me as brave. By leading by example, I’ve taught them emotional intelligence so that they could then overcome their own individual challenges. Sometimes, I look at the four of them, laughing together and living their twenty-something lives successfully, and I am absolutely amazed by them. They’re courageous in ways that I never could be. That’s the point of raising our kids to be who they are and make their way on their individual journeys.
How do you define courage, and how has your definition evolved through your own experiences?
My definition has evolved. When I feel fear now, I see the situation as an opportunity to lean into the fear because I know this is a chance to grow. Facing my deepest fear — which is rejection — and taking courageous action in spite of it actually puts me back in alignment with my true self. It’s that little girl in me at the top of the stairs. Fear is the flip side of courage, and when we can see that, it is powerful.
At the same time, it doesn’t count for me if I fake it. Meaning: if I force myself to do things in fear but something feels off, that is abandoning myself, and that’s the opposite of courage. I know people say, “Fake it until you make it,” but it’s more courageous to be true to who I am, even if that means retreating and protecting me sometimes. Again, it’s making a decision in the moment of fear to take an action that has a risk but doing it anyway. For me, taking care of myself is courageous.
Is there a particular message or advice you’d like to convey to other women who may be facing similar challenges?
I want every woman to see how courageous and brave she already is. It’s courageous of women to simply look back at our lives and the decisions and actions we’ve taken and be proud for every time we went against the grain, every time we questioned conventional wisdom, every time we stood up and said, “No,” when something is not right. We are brave, every single one of us. Gen X women, in particular, but all women, are facing fears every day that men don’t ever have to worry about.
In retrospect, do you have any regrets or things you would have done differently?
I’ve done the exercises where I go back to my younger self and tell her what she needs to hear, and I tell her every time: You are amazing, girl. You are doing it right. You are going to create a beautiful life beyond your wildest dreams. Keep going. Keep learning. You’ve got this. There is one part of me, the part who is highly self-critical, who I do say this to: Don’t be mean. We are not talking like that to ourselves anymore. Period. I would have told her to zip it a long time ago. She doesn’t always listen to me even now, but we are getting there.
How has this experience shaped your identity or sense of self?
The healing process of seeing myself as courageous at the core of who I am has shaped me into being more me. My identity was not very clear to me for many years. I was too busy trying to play all those roles — which was not a bad thing, but it just didn’t give me the space to be me. Now I have that. From there, my sense of self is evolving to be a woman who knows exactly who she is, knows what she wants, and knows that her fears are just little indicator lights that say, Check this out–this is something to pay attention to. What do you want to do?
What would you say to someone who is hesitant or afraid to take a courageous step in their life?
Identify first what you fear most. That core fear is the key. Looking at it and connecting the dots to actions we take or don’t take in our lives helps us see who we really are and who we were meant to be. On the other side of our deepest fear is our courage. It’s already there, already in us, if we just look.