The Day the Nouns Vanished: From Crash to Confidence

From Crashes to Confidence: How a Brain Injury Taught Me to Trust Myself

I want to tell you a story I wasn’t sure I’d ever share. Two people know this story Scott and my best friend. It’s a story about a dark road, a crushing snowstorm, and how I lost my words—literally—only to find them again, one bar of soap at a time.

If you’re reading this, if you’ve ever felt lost, like you’re constantly second-guessing every choice, or if you’ve hidden behind walls because being vulnerable felt too dangerous, I want you to know something right now: You are not alone. The Fleur on The Farm family we’ve built is a place of belonging for all of us, including me.

The Day the Nouns Vanished

It was the middle of a fantastic prairie snowstorm, and I was busy single-parenting my way through life. I called my boss to say I was a little scared to drive my tiny car on those roads. His response? "You are easily replaced, so you make the decision." So, I packed up my tea and headed out.

It was dark—as most winter commutes are here on the prairies—and just ten minutes down the road, my car hit a drift. The world went silent and then terrifyingly loud. My car went airborne, then landed on the roof. Not once, not twice, but three times before finally coming to rest on its tires in a steep ditch.

Because of the storm, it took first responders almost an hour to find me. The physical injuries were bad, but what happened next changed the course of my life.

In the hospital, after the initial relief of being relatively whole, the doctors started the routine head injury questions: What’s your name? What year is it? Where do you live? That’s when I realized I could no longer speak nouns. I could think the word—like, I knew the answer was "tree" or "car" or my street name—but I couldn't get it from my head to my mouth. They discovered I’d hit my head on the steering wheel, and the damage was serious.

For the next year and a half, my life was rehabilitation: five days a week, six hours a day. The accident left me with more than a loss of nouns; I lost my trust in myself.

Rebuilding the Walls...and Then Tearing Them Down

When I was finally released, the second-guessing began. I had to find a new job. I had to learn to trust my own driving, my decision-making, and my own brain again. I hid the pain from so many, even my kids. I learned to be tough, and that tough exterior quickly turned into walls, built high so I would never appear weak again.

I was losing myself inside those walls.

Even to this day, if I get excited about something, it will take me a minute to find the right noun. I might mix up details in a story, people’s names, or even dates. Those closest to me have known my struggle, and now I’m sharing this vulnerable moment with you.

How Soap Saved Me

The path back to confidence wasn't a giant leap; it was a lot of tiny, messy, beautiful steps. And believe it or not, soap healed me.

When I finally started soaping for income, it wasn't just about making bath and body products. It was about working with a plethora of ingredients, combining this and that to formulate something beautiful. Every new recipe forced me to trust my judgment. I had to pay attention. I had to trust my measurements. I had to put myself out into the world to face critiques. It was incredibly scary to bare this new business—and my fragile confidence—to the world.

To find my footing, I established order in my life. Every morning, I would write a list: Label product, do dishes, pack an order etc. And I would complete it, no matter what. By completing small, concrete tasks, I learned to trust myself again, slowly but surely. Organization became my safe space because when your brain has a hard time remembering things, knowing that everything goes back where it belongs just makes life easier. My soap lab in the Fleur on The Farm barn became a sanctuary of creative organization.

Finding Love and Finding Laughter

My journey eventually led me to marry my husband, Scott, who is so okay with all my flaws. He’s okay with me sometimes forgetting his birthday or our postal code. He understands why I need a clean, organized house. Him and a few close friends never make fun of me for misplacing my phone or mixing up schedules. They just offer grace and a gentle reminder.

And guess what? I’m finally in a place where I can laugh at myself for my silly mistakes and misunderstandings. Like the time I couldn't remember the word for 'ground squirrel' and asked Scott, "Hey, have you seen the little fluffy-tailed chatter-critter that steals the bird seed?"

It took work. It took therapy, reading the right books (like the ones that talk about setting boundaries and finding peace).

Learning to trust yourself is a process, but putting in the work is worth it. No one is perfect. No one is flawless. We will never know where someone is on their journey, so find the right people, find the right activities, find yourself, and most of all, be love.

Being love attracts love. I’m so thankful that I get to share my journey—all the dark roads and the sunshine moments—with my beautiful Fleur on The Farm family.

What is one small step you can take today to show your beautiful self a little more trust?