Most people never reinvent themselves. Not because they can't, but because they're waiting for something-the perfect time, the right circumstance, their “magic number” of age plus the years of service when they can finally retire, when they finally have enough.

Before launch day, I had a sense the book would do well. The number of pre-orders signaled the anticipation. Seeing it climb to number one in two categories, in four hours, surpassed expectations. Silently, I thought it might hit number one—but to achieve bestseller status in six categoriesand ranked right behind Jimmy Carter’s book in the week after his passing was unforgettable.

Today marks a milestone in my life as I release my memoir, Do You Still Like Football. This book recounts my story of resilience, reinvention, and the pursuit of a life lived enthusiastically and with no regret.

The end of the year feels like a natural place to reflect on our stories—the pages we’ve written, the twists we didn’t see coming, and the chapters we’re ready to close.

For the first time in four years, I’ll be home for Christmas Eve. In the boutiques, I always chose to give this time to my associates, making sure they could be with their loved ones. I would ask for a lone volunteer to join me, and together, we found joy and connection while helping those who had waited until the last minute to find the perfect gifts for their families.

This past weekend, while staying with family out of town, I fell halfway down a flight of stairs. One second I was walking, the next, I was tumbling—completely out of control, vulnerable, and helpless. It was a moment that reminded me how fragile we really are.

When I first started getting inked, it wasn’t just about getting tattoos. It was about the entire process: walking into the tattoo shop, meeting people who were vastly different from me, and wading into an environment I never thought I’d find myself in. 

Thanksgiving is just days away. Many of us will reconnect with family and friends, some for the first time in years. I’ll be reconnecting with family I haven’t seen in a while.

For some, these gatherings bring a mixture of emotions: happiness, memories, and sometimes the challenge of navigating different opinions. This year, through my writing and speaking, I’ve been reflecting on something I learned a long time ago: How much does it really matter that others know where I stand?

There’s a picture of me taken at a time from what might have looked like a high point in my life. To anyone else, it would seem like I had everything: success, stability, and the glow of someone at the top of their game. But what the picture doesn’t show is the storm brewing beneath the surface.

In my previous post, I discussed overcoming limiting beliefs as a step towards becoming whole. Today, I want to explore the next step on that path: embracing inner strength through vulnerability—a lesson I learned deeply in my own journey of self-discovery and transformation.

We all have beliefs that hold us back—those silent doubts that tell us we’re not good enough, strong enough, or capable of real change. These limiting beliefs become walls, keeping us stuck in self-doubt and disconnected from who we truly are. But what if the way forward isn’t about tearing down those walls but about seeing through them?

I’ve mentioned that I recently spoke at an event in Canada. The response to my keynote speech was amazing. I recently received this testimonial from an attendee of the event. I’ll include it in its entirety below.

Over the last 25 years, I’ve learned that the most powerful decisions we make are the ones where we say yes—to new experiences, to unexpected opportunities, and to challenges that don’t always look the way we expect. In my last post, Embrace Disruption, I talked about growth that comes from disruption—sometimes the kind we chase, and sometimes the kind that shows up when we’d rather avoid it.

Disruption: A sudden change that shakes up the status quo.

“Embrace Disruption”.

Twenty years ago, I had no idea how easily this motto would flow from my mouth—or my fingertips. Little did I know, disruption would become a constant force in my life.