Eighteen months ago, I went through something that knocked me off balance in a way I didn’t expect. After twenty years of serving my community — building projects, strengthening neighborhoods, bringing new ideas to life — I ran for re-election as Mayor of New Martinsville. I poured my heart, experience, and vision into that race.
And I lost.
Now, on paper, it was a simple outcome. Someone wins, someone doesn’t. But emotionally? It hit differently. This wasn’t just a professional disappointment. It shook something deeper — my sense of identity, purpose, and connection to the work I’d spent two decades doing.
For several months afterwards, I felt… off-center. Not broken. Not defeated. Just not quite myself.
When Your Identity Shifts, Even Slightly, You Feel It Everywhere
People sometimes think loss — political or otherwise — is just an external event. But when you’ve spent years showing up for others, investing your time, energy, and heart into a place you love, the outcome feels personal. It touches who you believe yourself to be.
That’s what happened to me.
After the election, my usual energy was muted. My outgoing, engaging, roll-up-my-sleeves self was still there somewhere, just operating at half-volume. I found myself asking quiet questions like:
“Who am I when the role I hoped for doesn’t materialize?”
“What stays true about me when a title slips away?”
“Where does my purpose live now?”
Did I even want to continue in public service?
Those questions weren’t dramatic — they were honest. And honesty is where healing lives.
I Didn’t Bounce Back. I Rebuilt.
Looking back now, I can see that I didn’t just “get over it.” That’s not how real emotional recovery works. I moved through the experience slowly, thoughtfully, and compassionately.
I let myself feel disappointed without rushing it away.
I reminded myself that a title is a role — not my identity.
I gave myself grace on the days when I felt less like “me” and more like a muted version of myself.
And then, I started doing what has always brought me home:
- Conversations with people I care about
- Re-engaging in community projects
- Pouring myself back into the work of helping others
- Small daily habits that reconnect me with purpose
Not because I was forcing a comeback… but because those things naturally help me reconnect with my center.
The Turning Point Was Quiet
There wasn’t a dramatic moment where I suddenly felt renewed. It wasn’t a scene from a movie.
One day, I just noticed that my energy was back.
My spark had returned.
My voice felt like mine again — strong, warm, steady.
I was laughing more. Planning more. Dreaming more.
I felt ready to engage again, fully and authentically.
That’s when I knew:
I had found my center again.
What This Taught Me About Emotional Agility
We often think resilience means bouncing back fast. But that’s not true resilience. That’s pressure.
Real resilience is quieter.
It’s slower.
It’s more human.
For me, emotional agility meant allowing myself to move through each phase honestly:
the confusion,
the disappointment,
the reflection,
the rebuilding,
and finally, the return.
It meant staying curious about my own emotions instead of fighting them.
It meant giving myself permission to adjust instead of springing back.
Emotional agility is not about snapping back. It’s about finding your way forward with honesty and grace.
Life Didn’t Go the Way I Imagined — But I Did Not Lose Myself
Losing the election didn’t diminish my purpose. It clarified it.
It reminded me that leadership isn’t defined by position — it’s defined by how we show up when things don’t go our way.
I’m still here.
Still serving.
Still creating.
Still building.
Still loving this community with every part of me.
And now, in many ways, I’m more aligned than ever.
A Gentle Invitation to You
If you’re facing a setback of your own — big or small — give yourself permission to move through it at your own pace. Notice where you feel off-center, and take one gentle step today toward reconnecting with who you are.
You don’t have to bounce back.
You just have to keep moving forward.
Eclectic Soup 