Your Story Brings Hope

Last week, someone reached out and asked if I would meet with them.

This person is incredibly well-connected and, quite frankly, an amazing human being, someone who does more for the people and communities around them than most of us ever will.

I accepted the invitation, and we spent a couple of hours together. To be honest, I was surprised they had that much time in their schedule to give to me.

The entire meeting felt a little surreal as I listened to what they were currently working to achieve in support of others. As I sat there, I couldn't help but feel that my 26 years in policing paled in comparison to what this person had accomplished and was still accomplishing.

Then came the moment when the true purpose of the meeting revealed itself.

This person was hoping I would be willing to collaborate with them.

What surprised me even more was that they weren't sure I would accept the meeting in the first place. They were genuinely grateful when I told them I would be happy to work together on an upcoming project.

So I asked the obvious question.

"What is it that I can offer?"

After hearing about the project, I honestly wasn't sure what value I could bring.

Their answer has stayed with me ever since.

They said:

"Jennifer, by providing your story and sharing how you see the world, you are bringing hope to people."

I felt overwhelmed hearing those words.

That my book, Tightrope, along with my social media posts and writing, was giving people hope.

I've spent days thinking about that comment, trying to understand what hope really means and how it could possibly apply to something I am doing.

So, naturally, I started researching hope.

Yes, I really did.

For some reason, this simple word that I have heard my entire life suddenly felt much more complicated. What I discovered was fascinating.

Psychologists describe hope as more than just an emotion. Research suggests that hope is actually a cognitive process, a way of thinking. Hope involves having goals, identifying pathways to achieve those goals, and believing that you have the ability to keep moving forward even when obstacles appear.

Hope is also different from wishful thinking.

Wishing is passive.

Hope is active.

Hope requires effort, resilience, adaptability, and the determination to navigate difficult circumstances.

Perhaps most importantly, hope is often described as a future-oriented belief that life can become better than it is today.

When I read that, I stopped.

A future-oriented belief that life can become better than it is today.

Something about that definition landed, it dawned on me that whenever I write, whether it's in Tightrope, on my website, or on social media, I am writing from a place of genuinely wanting to help. I want to lessen someone's burden, ease someone's loneliness, encourage someone who feels stuck, or simply remind them that they are not alone.

I shared some very private experiences in Tightrope because I wanted others to know that recovery is possible.

Healing is possible.

Growth is possible.

That even after incredibly difficult experiences, it is possible to arrive in a healthier, stronger place than where you began.

I had never thought about that as "giving hope."

In fact, I struggled for days with the idea because I didn't feel deserving of such an immense compliment.

Calling it a compliment doesn't even feel adequate. The words landed much deeper than that. After several days of reflection, this is where I have arrived.

I am not a special person.

I am not famous.

I am not exceptionally gifted at any one thing.

I am not a researcher or scientist who has solved a major problem facing the world.

I am simply a person who has learned how to share honestly.

I share what life has looked like for me, the successes, the failures, the heartbreaks, the lessons, the fears, and the moments of growth.

I do it because someone out there may be feeling sad, lonely, excluded, overwhelmed, confused, angry, uncertain, or exhausted.

Someone may feel like shutting down.

Someone may feel like giving up.

And maybe, just maybe, they read something I have written and pause for a moment.

Maybe they realize that if someone as ordinary as me can go through difficult things, survive them, work through them, and continue showing up every day searching for a little more peace, purpose, and happiness, then perhaps they can too.

That, I suppose, is hope.

And here's what I want you to know.

Every single one of us has the ability to give hope to someone else.

A smile.

A gentle hello.

Holding a door.

Letting someone merge into traffic.

Thanking someone for helping you—even when it's their job.

Complimenting someone's work, artwork, cooking, effort, or kindness.

The gestures are often small. But hope doesn't always arrive through grand acts.

Sometimes it arrives through tiny moments that remind people they matter.

I know that now because someone I deeply respect told me that my words and actions were giving hope.

If I can do that, then so can you. Most of all, I am grateful to the person who asked to meet with me and who so generously shared their thoughts about my work.

At a time when I was quietly wondering what more I had to say, what more I had to offer, and whether my voice still mattered, they answered those questions without even knowing it.

And for that, I will always be grateful.