Thank you to St. Martins Press, especially to Denene, Monique, and Victoria for all your help and support. Thank you to RL Summers Photography Inc. for capturing what words never could. Thank you to my family for all your support and love over the years. I wouldnt be where I am without you. And lastly, to my beautiful, resilient, and smart mini mes, Destiny and Jasmine, thank you for making my job as a mom easier. I love you.
No one is born a warrior. We dont come out of the womb with armor and weapons and the honor, courage, discipline, and strength to conquer lifes toughest battlesto win the mightiest wars. That mettlethat ability to stare the enemy in the face, choose the right weapons, and fight with all ones might to surviveis learned and earned with time. With experience. With the knockdowns and the wherewithal to get back up again, no matter what, every time, having learned a little more about what it takes to do so, no matter how strong or cunning the opposition.
This is no easy task. That opponent is a sly one, for surenot even, in most cases, a real person we can touch, see, or hit. Indeed, our biggest foe is not a person at all. It is, instead, all the things that hold us back from realizing our true strength and ability to win at life: fear, laziness, anger, ego, stubbornness, and so much more. Each threatens our greatest desiresthat new job; true love; better connections with family and friends; stronger, fitter bodies; higher education; respect; stabilityand brings the fight right to our doorstep. Directly to our hearts and minds. Neither knife, nor gun, nor fist is brandished, but this enemy can be every bit as lethal to us humans as an AK-47 with a full clip.
Being a true warrior, then, isnt so much about our ability to throw hands or shoot with precision or conquer adversaries we can actually see. Its about identifying our inner strengthtapping into the very core of our being to overcome the everyday obstacles that threaten to derail us at every turn. We all have the skill, knowledge, and muscle to get this done. Not only to endure but also to thriveto be unbreakable.
I know this to be true because my life was not set up for survival. At least not an easy one. Before Id even turned a year old, my father was shot dead in the street, my two-year-old brother crumpled at his feet. Not much longer after that, social services removed us from my mothers arms and dropped my brother and me into the complex, soul-sapping foster care system, leading to the Chicago home of a strict but loving couple that raised us in a whirlwind of poverty, old-school discipline, and a rotating crew of almost two dozen foster children in and out of their three-bedroom apartment. By age seventeen, Id been kicked out of school, shot, piled into the back of several cop cars, handcuffed in a police interrogation room, awakened in a hospital bed after a drug-induced fainting spell, pregnant, and an active member of a dangerous gang. That I made it out of all of that is a miracle.
The military saved my life.
I survived the streets of Chicago, but becoming a Marine gave me my armor. Made me a warrior. At every turn, I proved myself as a woman and a single mother in the military, destroying every physical, mental, and emotional barrier to take my rightful place as one of the first women to serve in a male-dominated combat mission during Operation Enduring Freedom (OEF) / Operation Iraqi Freedom (OIF). So strong was my pull to defend my country, I deployed to Iraqleaving behind my daughter, my family, my friends, and all I knew and loved to join my band of brothers on the ground. My work as a recruiter in the military as well as one of the Marines hand-selected to assist the Marine Corps in its mission to open combat roles to women paved the way for more strong women to join the militarys elite. And after retiring from two decades of duty, I used my mix of tough love and Marine mettle to mentor everyday men and women on the hit Fox reality show American Grit.
When I consider where Ive been and my journey to the right here and now, I know that every trial, every heartbreak, every decisionthe good and the badevery bullet made me the warrior I am today. Because I chose not to let the adversity I faced define or wreck me. I carried on.
Im nobodys hero. Im a woman. A mother. A daughter. A philanthropist. A Marine. A badass. A survivor. And I have a little something to say about what it takes to be a warrior. Pro tip: its a lot more than muscle. Follow my journey in Warrior and you just might see that you, too, have what it takes to win your own personal wars.
MARINE GUNNERY SERGEANT TEE HANIBLE
THE WARRIOR CODE: PRINCIPLE #1
To be gritty is to keep putting one foot in front of the other.
To be gritty is to hold fast to an interesting and purposeful goal.
To be gritty is to invest, day after week after year, in challenging practice.
To be gritty is to fall down seven times, and rise eight.
ANGELA LEE DUCKWORTH, ACADEMIC, AUTHOR
Grit is perseverancethat passion we use to push through adversity, no matter the obstacles. That stick-to-itiveness. It comes wrapped in qualities like discipline, self-motivation, fearlessness, and a smidge of optimism. Theres plenty of research that suggests that when it comes to achievement, having grit is as important as, if not more than, intelligence or talent. Ask any new Marine and theyll likely tell you the same: yes, of course you have to have brains and brawn to make it through the Crucible, the final physical evaluation that tests whether recruits have the physical, mental, and moral fortitude to be a Marine. But its that gritthat dogged determination in your heart, in your sinew, in every fiber of your beingthat gets you through fifty-four hours of food and sleep deprivation and forty-eight miles of marching while carrying forty-five pounds of gear as you work together to overcome obstacles, problem-solve, and help your fellow recruits ace the combat assault courses, the team-building and warrior stations, and the leadership reaction course. When your body is weak and your mind is tired and telling you, Give upyoure not going to make it, its that grit that kicks in and propels you forward and sees you through the end.
I believe we all have a bit of grit in us. It can reveal itself naturally, like in my case, when I had to lean on it to push through my challenging childhood, or it can be drawn out of us, like a bucket of water from a well when everything else in our lives has gone dry and we need the fortitude, the strength, the coping skills to quench our thirst and just keep pushing.
My grit was born, bred, and nurtured in the midst of childhood trauma. Before I took my first step, before I could even say my own name, the odds were against me. I was born in Chicago to a man and a woman whose troubles never gave them peacethat refused to give them rest. When I was just ten months old, that trouble found my father on a quiet street on the South Side, where he was walking with my big brother, a chocolate dewdrop still in diapers, tottering on the pavement alongside our dad. Quick as a flash, someone walked right up to the two of them, pulled out a gun, and shot my father dead. Just left his bodycrumpled, bloodyright there in the middle of the street, with my brother standing over him, screaming. From what little information Ive managed to gather over the years, my brother wasnt hurt, but beyond that, I have no idea if the person who killed my father was ever found, arrested, or punished.