“You’ve always been in the way,” my sister whispered, shoving me out of the chopper while my husband watched, silent and complicit for the $5M payout. Everyone thought I was dead. But when I pushed open the church doors during my funeral service, my husband went pale. I locked eyes with him and said…

makes you stronger,” I told the silent auditorium, leaning slightly on the podium to ease the ache in my leg. “Trauma doesn’t make you stronger. It breaks you into pieces. What makes you stronger is the agonizing, deliberate choice of how you assemble those pieces back together. I am not the woman who boarded that helicopter. She was naïve, and she continue reading …