How Loss Can Become the Fuel for Your Legacy

After back-to-back divorces, it would have been easy to believe I had to do it all alone. During the pandemic, the world was silent. My daughters were home, routines disappeared and my future felt unfamiliar.

Yet even in that stillness, I never felt hopeless. I felt invited. Invited to pay attention, to choose faith, to build something meaningful from the inside out.

When the divorce was final, I launched a company with someone I loved and trusted deeply. We built Wellness Eternal together in its earliest form (a brick-and-mortar showplace of Biohacking Tech). But friendship and entrepreneurship are not the same language. After eleven months, she chose to step away. She is still a dear friend, but she was not meant to be a business partner. I was left with a young company in pieces and a choice: let it go, or rebuild it into something stronger, clearer and truer. I chose to rebuild.

Wellness Eternal did not start as a brand. It started as a notebook of ideas, research, passionate conversations, prayers and late-night reflections. It was never about perfection. It was about purpose. Our purpose was, and still is, to bring efficacy and amplification to a confusing, nascent-stage industry – Biohacking. I intend to share the solutions that helped me and my daughter heal, while bringing integrity, science and spirit to a wellness space that sometimes forgets the human heart.

Related: When Life Collapses, Entrepreneurs Rebuild — 5 Lessons From From the Science of Resilience

What surprised me most was that the more I shared my story, the more I found women walking through the same kind of fire, only they were turning it into light.

One of them was Pam Gold. I met her through one of my earliest mentors, the same mentor who believed in me at eighteen, before I had titles or certainty. Years before the rest of the world was talking about biohacking, Pam was building it. She founded HACKD Fitness in New York City, a space where performance, recovery and technology worked together, compression therapy, PEMF, red light, oxygen, strength in minutes instead of hours. Since then, HACKD rebranded to PRTL.

But what most people miss is that the evolution to PRTL was not a rescue mission. The name change was intentional and already in motion. What changed after the pandemic was not her purpose, but its direction. People no longer wanted to go faster. They wanted to feel whole. PRTL became a sanctuary not just for physical strength, but for nervous system balance, mental clarity and inner alignment. Reinvention for her was not starting over. It was allowing a vision to deepen when the world shifted.

Another woman who reflects this kind of grace and grit is Jenna Zwagil. She went from homeless — living in her car, to building a multi-million dollar wellness company, to losing her marriage and identity in the process. She could have stopped. Instead, she chose to rebuild with three guiding truths: wisdom, wealth and wellness. She now leads companies, raises four children and speaks openly about wellness, wisdom and wealth. Her platform, Bitcoin is Bae, is not just about finance. It is about sovereignty. It is about choosing to live and lead in resonance with who you really are.

These women did not rescue me. They reflected me. They reminded me of who I already was and who I was still becoming. Their lives made it clear that pain is not something to hide from. It is a teacher. It is a sculptor.

And this is not just our story as individuals. It is a growing movement among women in entrepreneurship. Single mom entrepreneurs now run one in three women-owned businesses in the United States. Nearly sixty-nine percent of single mom business owners say they want to grow into a small, mid-size, or corporate company, compared to fifty-two percent of business owners without children. And forty-two percent of entrepreneurial mothers say they started a business to build generational wealth for their children. These women are not building for vanity. They are building for legacy.

Related: What My Firefighter Husband’s Recovery Taught Me About Biohacking — And Building Resiliency

What I learned from all of this is that reinvention is not one bold leap. It is a thousand small choices. Tell the truth, even when it is uncomfortable. Let go of what no longer fits, even if it once felt safe. Do not confuse loyalty with self-abandonment. Ask for help. Stay close to the people who hold your vision when you forget how to. And if you have daughters watching, show them that strength and softness can exist in the same breath.

Pam taught me that disruption often precedes innovation. Jenna taught me that reinvention is not rebellion; it is coming home to yourself. My daughters taught me that healing is not just something you do for yourself. It is something you pass down.

And today, I look at my life, my daughters, my marriage, my company, and I know none of it would exist without the breaking that came before it.

Reinvention is not becoming someone new. It is remembering who you are.

It is turning what hurt you into what heals others.

That is the art of reinvention.

After back-to-back divorces, it would have been easy to believe I had to do it all alone. During the pandemic, the world was silent. My daughters were home, routines disappeared and my future felt unfamiliar.

Yet even in that stillness, I never felt hopeless. I felt invited. Invited to pay attention, to choose faith, to build something meaningful from the inside out.