The Angel in the Bathroom: Meeting Brené Brown

When Your Body Fights Your Dreams (And You Show Up Anyway)

When I first heard that Brené Brown was coming to Ireland in November 2025, I knew immediately—I had to attend. Not just attend as an audience member, but somehow, some way, I needed to meet her.

Brené's work has been transformational in my journey. Her book The Gifts of Imperfection spoke directly to something I struggled with greatly: perfectionism, worthiness, and the courage to be vulnerable. I had followed her work closely for years, drawn to her teachings on vulnerability, courage, and authenticity as keys to living wholeheartedly.

So I did what I always do when I set an intention: I wrote it down. In my diary. In my planner. In my journal. Over and over: Meet Brené Brown. Gift her my book.

I even prepared two signed copies of my memoir—one for Brené and one for Norah Patten, the Irish astronaut candidate. I gave myself no way out. If I didn't meet them in person, I'd have to figure out how to mail my books. But I was determined to do this face-to-face.

When Your Body Says "No" But Your Heart Says "Yes"

The day of the Pendulum Summit arrived, and the lineup was stellar—Marc Randolph (co-founder of

Netflix), Brené Brown, Norah Patten, and more. It was riveting.

But as the afternoon rolled around, my body started giving out.

If you live with chronic illness, you know this feeling. My legs ached. My lower back and neck were screaming. The intermittent electric shocks from trigeminal neuralgia were growing in intensity. The fatigue was setting in big time—that deep, bone-tired exhaustion that makes you feel like jelly.

I knew I was fading fast. But the main event hadn't even happened yet.

I needed to meet Brené. I just had to.

I made my way to the bathroom while everyone was in session—seeking a quiet moment to regroup. I took off my shoes, felt the cold floor beneath my feet, and did gentle stretches. I thanked my body for all it was doing for me and promised to give myself extra rest later. But first, I needed it to carry me through a few more hours.

The Angel in the Bathroom

That's when a woman walked into the bathroom.

I was gathering my thoughts, doing my breathing exercises, trying to center myself. We started talking, and I found myself opening up to her. I told her how much meeting Brené meant to me, how I'd set this intention, how I had my book ready to gift.

She was so encouraging. She told me to take a small stroll outside, come back, and she would ensure I'd be able to meet Brené.

That small gesture from this stranger lifted my spirit and gave me the extra oomph I needed to keep going. I walked outside feeling supported and grateful. I stood in the corridor looking out at the River Liffey, continuing my breathing exercises to settle myself.

I didn't have to wait long. Soon, people started lining up. I joined the queue and was even able to meet Marc Randolph—a very gracious gentleman. I looked forward to his talk.

Then came the moment I'd been waiting for.

"You Need to Toot Your Own Horn"

I watched Brené interact with each person who approached her. She was so kind, so present with everyone. Finally, it was my turn.

I managed to tell her I had a book for her and how much her work meant to me—how it had been a catalyst in my decision to share my own story in hopes that it could help others facing big life challenges.

After the photo, I found the woman from the bathroom again. I thanked her profusely for being instrumental in giving me that extra boost I needed. We chatted briefly.

Then Brené finished all the photos and walked toward a large table to sign something for Pendulum. As she got closer, I was able to give her my book and thank her again, expressing my hope that she would read it and see the impact her work has had on my life.

She looked at me and said something I'll never forget: "The greatest way one can show courage and vulnerability is sharing their own personal struggles with health."

I was touched. Grateful. Fighting back tears.

Then she asked, "Do you want me to take a picture with your book?"

I was struck speechless for a moment—I forgot how to say yes. Then I managed: "Yes, thank you so much!"

She brought me back to where the Pendulum backdrop was—the lighting was better there—turned with that sweet smile and said, "You need to toot your own horn and be proud of the work you did."

I could barely contain my tears. Between the joy overflowing, the kindness she was showing, the ache in my body, and barely being able to hold on, I was overwhelmed. She was kind enough to give me space to recompose.

"Breathe," she said.

And I did. And we took that picture.

The Power of One Kind Act

I am so grateful—not only for the opportunity to meet Brené, but also for the "angel in the bathroom" who showed me kindness and spoke words of encouragement when I needed them most.

I also met Norah Patten, who was equally kind and gracious. Both women exemplified perseverance, compassion, and understanding in such a powerful way.

This experience reminded me of something important: We never know what people are going through. A simple act of kindness can turn someone's entire day around. In my case, it made it possible for me to meet Brené as I'd intended and see it through to the end, even when my body was begging me to stop.

Your Turn: Show Kindness, Show Courage

As we close out the first month of 2026, I want to ask you:

• Have you been kind to yourself?

• Have you shown intention in your days?

• Have you pursued the dreams and goals you set for yourself?

Living with chronic illness has taught me that courage isn't about being fearless—it's about showing up even when you're afraid, even when your body is screaming at you to stop, even when the odds seem stacked against you.

And sometimes, courage comes from accepting help. From letting someone else lift you up. From receiving kindness and paying it forward.

I'd love to hear from you:

• Have you read Brené Brown's work? (If not, I highly suggest looking her up—her latest book, Solid Ground, is a phenomenal leadership tool.)

• Have you ever had a "bathroom angel" moment—when a stranger's kindness changed your day?

  
  

Share in the comments below. Your story might be exactly what someone else needs to hear today.

With Gratitude

Thank you to Pendulum Summit for bringing such an incredible lineup of speakers to Ireland.

Thank you to the angel in the bathroom for lifting me up when I needed it most.

And thank you to Brené Brown and Norah Patten for your kindness, your wisdom, and your reminder that vulnerability is strength.

Here's to a year of finding joy every single day, even when—especially when—the days are hard.

Keep going. You're doing better than you think.