Journal

When you look at me, the fact that I’m disabled is immediately seen. I use a walker, I go for coffee using a mobility scooter, and using those associate with being “disabled.” And yes, that part of my injury is real. It’s part of who I am now. But, the physical aspect of my injury isn’t the most significant element of what happened to me, nor why I was declared “catastrophic” and medically retired from my awesome job. What I’m sharing about today is the invisible-injury that I’d sustained, which was the Acquired Brain Injury.

In many ways, being visibly disabled has actually been an unexpected gift. People more often than not give me the benefit of the doubt. They assume I might need help, and they’re often kind. But I’ve met many people with invisible brain injuries who don’t get that understanding. They might say something slightly off, forget something important, or respond emotionally — and instead of being seen as someone with an injury, they’re judged as rude, unreliable, or even unstable.

That’s why I want to use my visible disability as a bridge — to open a conversation about the invisible parts of brain injuries that are just as real, just as disabling, and often more socially isolating.

I’ve been using the phrase better than awesome a lot lately — and for good reason. The Trivia Night held on January 30 wasn’t just awesome. It was better than awesome in ways that matter deeply to me.

First, it was sold out.

Let that sink in for a moment. Every seat filled. Every table buzzing. Every question answered with laughter, friendly trash talk, and that unmistakable energy that comes from people choosing to show up. For me, the sold-out sign meant more than a full room — it was confirmation. Confirmation that people do want to help. That they care. That this mission resonates.

A new year always brings that spark of possibility — the feeling that maybe this is the year something meaningful shifts. Some people focus on changing habits or chasing goals. For me, what I’m going to establish as my goal for this year is about changing perspectives — especially around something as simple, and as powerful, as what we put on our heads before getting on a bike.

Before you think I’m going to talk about posting safety reminders, it’s more than that. It’s not about guilt or obligation. It’s about identity. And it’s about a shift in how we think about strength — the kind that isn’t about how fast you pedal or how far you go, but about how you protect what matters most.

The choice to wear a helmet isn’t about waiting until it’s too late. It isn’t a decision you look back on with “hindsight is 20/20” because damage to your body can’t be undone. It’s a choice you make now, a proactive step that reflects self-awareness, responsibility, and the kind of strength that often goes unseen. That’s the kind of thinking I hope to help grow this year.

The holidays are here — a time to celebrate, reflect, and look forward with hope. For me, and for everyone involved with BrainSTRONG, it’s about more than decorations, gifts, and festive cheer. It’s about celebrating strength, resilience, and determination — even when it’s invisible.

Most people living with an Acquired Brain Injury (ABI) face challenges that aren’t obvious. Their victories and perseverance often go unseen. That’s why BrainSTRONG exists: to shine a light on the invisible, raise awareness, and foster understanding. It’s about turning empathy into action and showing the world that resilience matters.

Every holiday season, we look for that one gift—something meaningful, something memorable, something that shows we truly care. Some people wrap up gadgets, others go the sentimental route, and some simply hand out gift cards and hope for the best. But this year, the most impactful gift might be something surprisingly simple:

A bike helmet.

Not exactly the “big reveal” under the tree, right? But stay with me—because this gift isn’t just an item. It’s the spark that kicks off a movement. It’s the catalyst for changing how people of all ages think about their own safety. And soon, thanks to the launch of “I am BrainSTRONG,” it will be so much more than just a helmet.

There’s one thing I’ve learned on my journey, it’s that people don’t like being told what to do (in this case wear a helmet). For some reason, the very idea sparks resistance. Kids roll their eyes, adults shrug it off, and too often the response is: “I’ll be fine.”

I honestly don’t know why, I really don’t, because if I wasn’t wearing mine, I’d have died – absolutely no doubt.

Think about it. If you’re driving a car, you buckle up without question. If you’re skiing, strapping on a helmet has become second nature. If you play hockey, you wouldn’t step onto the ice without one. Yet, when it comes to biking—something we do on busy city streets, winding trails, or even in our own neighborhoods—there’s this strange resistance.