Author A New Chapter When No One Would Blame You For Quitting

Every few years, the Olympics drop us right into the heart of human struggle and triumph, where conditions test every limit, expectations tower overhead, and one split-second can shift your entire story. We can’t look away because these moments echo our own lives. Real growth doesn’t happen in comfort zones. It happens when we face what pushes back and let it sharpen us.

This March marks the second anniversary of my book, Already Forgiven: An Abortion Recovery Story. To celebrate, I’m sharing a five-part series drawing from unforgettable recent Olympic moments. Each post spotlights one of the five steps to healing that I write about - steps that help transform post-abortion pain into genuine strength.

We’ve covered Find Support, Grieve, Re-Know Yourself, and Open Yourself to All Possibility.

In our final week, we step into Tell A New Story (Stop Living in the Sad Story). Our guide is Lindsey Vonn.

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Lindsey Vonn at the Vancouver 2010 Winter Olympics. Photo: Duncan Rawlinson (CC BY-SA/Wikimedia Commons)

She Knew the Mountain and Chose It Anyway

Lindsey Vonn is an alpine skiing legend. We’re talking multiple Olympic medals, World Cup dominance, a career built on flying down mountains at 70+ mph. At 41, Vonn has experienced more than her fair share of surgeries due to an extensive list of injuries (like torn ACLs and knee replacements). She could very respectably have hung up her skis and written the final chapter: “Greatest of all time. The end.”

Instead, she returned for the 2026 Olympics. One more downhill run. One more chance to soar.

Thirteen seconds in, Vonn clipped a gate. She crashed violently to the tune of a complex tibial fracture. Career likely over.

The world gasped first in terror, then in disbelief. She’d trained perfectly. Prepared meticulously. Done everything right. And the mountain took it all anyway.

But here’s what makes her story golden: Lindsey didn’t crash because she was reckless. She crashed because she was courageous. She chose to author a new chapter when no one would have blamed her for retiring. Even in the wreckage, her choice shines.

Lindsey later shared that she had no regrets about competing in these Olympics, even with the severity of her injuries. She talked about showing up at 41 with a partially replaced knee and doing what most people believed was impossible at her age. She said that every moment out there was worth it, that the memories she made on that mountain are treasures she’ll carry for the rest of her life. She’s asked people not to feel sorry for her, but to see her story as strength: she chose the risk with eyes open, she still loves the sport, and she wants her fall to remind others to keep fighting too.

That’s what it looks like to live the new story on purpose. Not, “Poor me, look what happened,” but, “I knew the cost, I chose the climb, and the ride was worth the fall.”

When One Chapter Threatens to Close the Book

After abortion, the story often freezes. It becomes:

“I made the wrong choice.”

“Every future step is tainted by a dark shadow.”

“My best chapters were ripped from my book.”

One painful decision threatens to become your whole narrative. You shrink to fit it, afraid any bigger story would ring false.

Tell A New Story hands you the pen. Do not erase the hard chapter. Instead, write what comes next.

Tell A New Story (Stop Living in the Sad Story)

This step rejects living life as a Greek tragedy. It’s choosing to honor what happened while writing what comes next.

Three mindset shifts will help:

1. That painful thing happened, but it’s a chapter, not the whole story.

2. I decide what this story grows into next.

3. My future holds more than my past allowed me to see.

Lindsey’s crash could have been “the end.” Instead, it’s “the chapter where she risked everything one last time.” Her old story (“retired legend”) gained a bolder layer: the woman who wouldn’t quit while she still had fire.

Your new story could be: the woman who carries quiet grief but loves fiercely anyway. Who turns private pain into public help. Who trades shame for purpose. That, my friends, is completion.

Power Lives in Your Next Line

Don’t you dare try to trick yourself into believing that your story’s locked.

The greatest authors revise. A LOT. The dearest protagonists evolve. Think Frodo Baggins from Lord of the Rings or Scrooge from A Christmas Carol or even Simba from The Lion King. Your hardest chapter was crucial to the plot. Your next chapter is the arc that catapults you forward into a richer, truer, version of yourself.

Start writing with one of these prompts:

• Finish this sentence: “Five years from now, people will say of me…”

• Scrap one label: “I’m not just that woman. I’m also…”

• Claim one gift from the pain: “This hurt taught me…”

(Pro tip: Share one line of your new story with someone safe!)

No epic novel required. One true sentence is sufficient to spark the rest.

That Tempting Old Ending

Warning! New stories feel flimsy at first. The villain’s voice jeers: “Who do you think you’re kidding?” Traumas replay in slow motion.

This is totally normal. Some attempts at rewriting will feel shaky or downright fake. Own them anyway because each one makes your voice stronger.

Write the Ending You Deserve

Two years ago this month, Already Forgiven launched—for every woman living in a never ending loop of post-abortion sadness.

If Tell A New Story has your pen itching, may I also suggest that you grab the book. I rewrote my own tragedy into triumph in its pages.

Get it on Amazon

Whether it’s shifted your story or rattled it, please leave an honest review. Your words become trail markers for another turnaround. As a thank you, I’ll give shout-outs in future blog posts to reviewers using the name that appears on your Amazon review.

What’s one line from your new story? Drop it in the comments so that I can cheer you on.

Your old story got you here.

It’s your new one that takes you home.

Write it.