Kelly Lewis - Tell Her She Cant: Inspiring Stories of Unstoppable Women

Copyright 2021 by Kelly Lewis

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ISBN 978-0-9859122-3-9 (paperback)
ISBN 978-0-9859122-4-6 (ebook)

www.gogirlpublishing.com
www.tellhershecant.com

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The events and conversations in this book have been set down to the best of the authors and interviewees abilities, although some names and details have been withheld to protect the privacy of individuals.

This ones for you, Koggy. We made it.

CHAPTER 1

Throw me to the wolves and I will return,
leading the pack.

Seneca (and Lisa Vanderpump)

C hances are that someone, somewhere, has also told you that you cant.

Maybe you had a dream to be an astronaut, and everyone around you poo-pooed it, saying you didnt have the brain for that much math and science. Maybe you wanted to run a marathon, and your aunt told you that was a ridiculous idea for someone who could barely walk around the block. Maybe you thought of a business idea but your mom said it would never make any money. Whatever your ambitions or dreams, baby, the naysayers are everywhere.

Ive encountered them my whole life, and I bet you have too. In the third grade, a boy in my class told me I could never beat him at the spelling bee. I stayed up all night studying and whooped his butt on competition day, despite fresh stitches from a dental operation in my mouth. In high school, a friend said I couldnt do more cartwheels than she could. I did 72 in a row and was still going, long after she had quit. Im pretty much the poster child for anything you can do, I can do betterand I dont take kindly to being told I cant.

Throughout this book, were going to talk about these naysayersthe ones I call the blockmakers. The people who stand in our way, get in our heads, and fill us with all kinds of self-doubt. If left unchecked, their limiting voices can become our own. We cant let that happen.

When you meet a blockmaker, you have two choices: accept their words as truth and give up, or use those words as fuel and prove them wrong. I hope after reading this, that you choose the latter.

Society has been telling women what they can and cant do, who they can and cant be, and what they can and cant look like, ever since Eve took a bite out of what Im sure was a delicious apple. With that, women have been punished for eternity for their choices.

Cant focus too long on your career, youll never have a family. Cant start a family, youll ruin your career. Cant be too sure of yourself or youll scare men away, cant be too accomplished or youll be too intimidating cant, cant, cant. Where does it end?

Trying to live your life by someone elses standards is a losing game, so I propose we change the rules. What if we started to hear cant as an invitation to do exactly that thing? What if we lived our lives exactly the way we want to, authentically and unapologetically?

We cannot control other peoples opinions, nor can we continue to live life within boundaries that have been designed to keep us small. We are powerful. You are powerful.

You have the potential to take all the hater-ade around you and turn it into a propellant that pushes you toward success. You have the capacity to grow, learn, unlearn, and create so much beauty in the process. How do I know? Because Im living proof.

I grew up in an environment in which I felt constantly on edge, always on defense for the next attack. Ive been drowned, smothered, and kicked in the stomach more times than I care to recall. Ive experienced the effects of alcoholism, narcissism, and corruption. Ive been devastatingly, heartbreakingly, betrayed.

The cards felt very much stacked against me for much of the first 17 years of my life, and no one would have judged me had I chosen to just accept this and live a muted life, never really reaching for the potential I knew I had within me. But I decided early on that I wasnt going to be a victim to my circumstances. I became determined to live a happy and successful life, and knew that one day, I would become even more successful than the people who had tried to tear me down.

No one else was going to determine my futureand no one else can determine yours, either.

CHAPTER 2

Although the world is full of suffering, it is also full
of the overcoming of it.

Helen Keller

I remember the first time my mother left me alone with them as if Im watching it on a vintage projector.

My small face pressed up against the living room window.

Tears forming in my wide brown eyes as I watch her pull out from the driveway.

My stomach falling as soon as she was out of sight.

We had just moved in with my moms boyfriend (eventual husband) and his son to a house full of shadows in Austin, Texas. My parents had divorced when I was two years old, their marriage a casualty to alcoholism.

I kept mostly to myself in those days, hiding in my room except to steal one of my mothers chocolate chip cookies from the kitchen or to run free in our backyard, full of billowing trees and red ant hills.

The dark corners of the house tricked my mind, disorienting me, leaving me always on edge, questioning everything. Was someone waiting for me outside of my room? Or was it the light?

With my mother gone, I knew I wasnt safe. I ran from the living room window to my bedroom, locking the door as fast as I couldbut when I got inside I realized: I forgot to use the bathroom.

From my bed, I waited until I could hold it no longer before I dared creep back out, using one eye to scan the one-inch gap at the bottom of the door. Five minutes passed without a shadow moving. Then 10. Maybe I was being dramatic.

I turned the doorknob as quietly and slowly as I could, and tiptoed to the bathroom, careful to avoid any of the creaky spots on the floor. I had just about made it back to the safety of my room, when I heard the carpet crunch behind me.

Suddenly, my 11-year-old stepbrother had me by the ankles, suspending me in mid-air. I hit the floor with a thud and searched for any strand of carpet or wall to hold on to as he dragged me down the hallway.

The friction forced my shirt up around my chest, and, in my struggle to pull it back down, my hair became matted and tangled. My face flushed red in panic. I twisted and kicked to try to break free from his grip, as he pulled me to the foot of the couch.

Before I could even process what was happening, he picked up a blue pinstriped couch cushion, put it flat over my face, and pressed down as hard as he could.