Life has a funny way of surprising us when we least expect it. You plan an event, prepare your talking points, and expect a standard, quiet evening of discussing your work. But sometimes, the universe steps in and delivers a moment so deeply profound that it leaves you completely speechless. That is exactly what happened to me the other night during my book talk at the Barnes & Noble on Walt Whitman Drive in Huntington Station.
I set up the evening with a specific mission in mind. I wanted to support the Lightning Warriors, an incredible youth triathlon team on Long Island. I told Noah Lam, the group organizer, that if he helped me bring in an audience, I would donate a portion of my proceeds directly to his group. Noah does wonderful work giving back to the kids in our community, and I deeply appreciate him, both as a dedicated athlete and as a friend.
The turnout was small and intimate—about ten people gathered. But as I looked out at the faces in the crowd, my heart skipped a beat. Sitting right there in the audience was a friend from high school. I had not seen her in more than 45 years.
A Voice from the Past
I gave my talk, sharing the stories and insights from my book. The energy in the room was warm and supportive. When I finished speaking and opened the floor, my high school friend raised her hand and asked to speak for a moment.
I said yes, absolutely. I had no idea what she was going to say. I assumed she might share a funny memory from our teenage years or offer a brief congratulatory note. Instead, she stood up in front of everyone and delivered a message that completely stopped me in my tracks.
She shared that when she was just 13 years old, she was diagnosed with a mental illness. She explained how isolating and terrifying that experience was for a young girl trying to navigate the already turbulent waters of middle and high school. I stood there, stunned. I had absolutely no idea she had been fighting such a difficult battle.
Then, she turned to me. She told the room that I was the only person who befriended her during those dark years. She remembered how I invited her to parties, brought her into my friend group, and made sure she never felt left out. Because of those simple gestures, she said, she finally felt like she belonged somewhere. She expressed her utmost gratitude, 45 years later, for a friendship that quite literally changed her teenage experience.
Empathy Born from Pain
Hearing her words brought tears to my eyes. As a side note, bringing people together was always something I instinctively did. I always gravitated toward the people who didn’t have many friends. I would pull them into my circle, ensuring they had someone to sit with or talk to. I hated to see people sitting alone, and I absolutely despised watching anyone get teased.
That protective instinct did not come out of nowhere. It was born from my own painful experiences. For so many years during my youth, I was the one getting teased. I know exactly how that kind of bullying feels. It cuts deep, it chips away at your self-confidence, and the heavy emotional weight of it sticks with you for years to come.
You carry those invisible scars into adulthood. Thankfully, I eventually found a wonderful therapist during my college years. That professional support guided me through those difficult times, helping me rebuild my confidence and process the lingering hurt from my childhood. Because I knew the crushing weight of being isolated and mocked, I made a silent promise to myself that I would never let anyone else feel that way if I could help it.
The Lasting Power of Inclusion
We often underestimate the impact of our everyday actions. When I was a teenager, inviting a quiet girl to a weekend party, I was not trying to be a hero. I was simply trying to be a friend. I wanted to create the kind of welcoming environment I so desperately craved when I was being bullied.
Yet hearing her speak about it four decades later made me realize that kindness has a long, resilient shelf life. When you make someone feel seen, valued, and included, you plant a seed that can grow and sustain them through their hardest seasons. It costs nothing to offer a smile, pull up an extra chair, or extend an invitation. But to the person on the receiving end, that small gesture can mean the absolute world.
We need to remember this as we interact with people every single day. Everyone is fighting a battle we know nothing about. My friend carried a heavy diagnosis at 13, and she hid it well. We never truly know the internal struggles of our peers, our neighbors, or the quiet kids in the back of the classroom.
Lost in Thought on the Long Drive Home
After the event wrapped up, we shared a long-overdue hug. The entire drive home, my mind was racing. My heart felt incredibly full, wrapped in a profound sense of warmth and gratitude. I could not think of anything else. I played her words over and over in my head, reflecting on our shared youth, the pain of growing up, and the beautiful, full-circle nature of life.
I was so deeply lost in thought that I actually missed my highway exit. Not just once, but twice.
As I finally navigated my way back home, I felt an overwhelming sense of peace. My book talk did not pack a massive auditorium, but it accomplished exactly what it was meant to do. We raised awareness for the Lightning Warriors, supported local youth athletes, and, most importantly, created a space for an old friend to share a beautiful truth.
If there is one takeaway I want to leave you with, it is this: never pass up an opportunity to be kind. Reach out to the person standing on the fringes. Invite them in. You might just change their life—and decades later, they might just change yours right back.