The Transformative Power of Words -- and the Healing They Gave Me

I wholeheartedly believe in the transformative power of the written word.

It informs, inspires, and ignites action. It builds goodwill, drives engagement, and elevates reputations.

It creates lasting connections, shapes perceptions and taps into emotion. And sometimes, it heals.

I can’t remember a time in my life when I didn’t enjoy writing. As a little girl, I was especially fond of writing poetry.

My mom recently told me a story from when I was in first grade, when my entire school participated in a poetry contest. Each student wrote an anagram poem, and one winner from each grade would have their poem read aloud at an assembly.

For reasons I still don’t know, I chose to write about horses. I had never ridden one at that time in my life, nor did I know anyone who owned one. But that was my topic. And I won.

My mom told me how proud she felt hearing my poem read aloud. She was amazed by what I had written at such a young age.

Sadly, I don’t remember the poem at all. Much of first grade was a blur, because that was the year my dad died. I was 6 years old, and we just celebrated his birthday. You see, he died on the night of his 41^st birthday.

My dad and I in Fremont, Mich.

As I said, I always loved writing. But after losing my dad, it became something deeper. Writing poetry was how I grieved. It became a part of me.

Obviously, I didn’t realize this at the time. How could I? I was so young.

As I grew older, I came to understand the quiet healing my writing had always offered me. It was calming and became my sanctuary. I would sit at my desk in my bedroom for hours and pour my heart out on the pages.

Over time, I explored different forms of writing, each one sharpening my voice and expanding my perspective. That journey led me to Journalism School, where I pursued reporting. From there, my path widened into corporate communications – strategic, fast-paced and impactful.

But about a decade ago, something shifted, and I returned to writing for myself again, rediscovering the joy and freedom that first drew me in. That reconnection sparked the creation of my first children’s book and I’m looking forward to sharing details throughout the publication process!

My dad has been gone now for 38 years, but this new project has given me an unexpected sense of closeness to him and a deeper appreciation for family. I hope he’s looking down on me with the same sense of pride my mom felt all those years ago at that assembly.

My Dad loved sled dogs and enjoyed racing them in the winter in Marquette, Mich.