The soldier saw them lining the side of the road as he drove a Humvee through the desert to Mosul. He thought about his own wife and child, about how those kids should be in school. He steered the two-and-a-half-ton vehicle around potholes in the road, many of them the size of cars. IEDs had carved them into graves.

Years later, I sat on a couch in that Iraq War veteran's living room, barely breathing as he told me about the children and the death and the earth when it shook. 

Now, years later, working as a copywriter, I still think about his story and so many others I had the privilege of telling as a journalist. 

I think about the single coal miner who was also the only woman miner in her crew. I think about the man from Texas who faced death again and again and again. I think about the Alaskan Eskimo and her fingers as she showed me the dying art of her people. 

The key is to do it really well. 

I've been writing professionally for ten years – studying the craft of story and telling the stories of people across the globe. As a journalist, my speciality was writing profiles – literally the stories of humans.  

My writing has been recognized by press clubs in several states and the Hearst Journalism Awards. I was part of the newsroom that was a runner up for the Pulitzer Prize in 2017. 

Now, as a copywriter, it's my privilege to tell the stories of incredible women defying odds, breaking generational patterns, overcoming enormous obstacles and creating businesses that help other people. 

I believe yours is next. I truly believe that you have been living your story and know that it's time to tell it. I've been honing this craft for more than a decade for this. To tell your story. 

Our worlds are finally colliding. In this moment. 

So, my friend with a powerful tale to tell, let the storytelling begin. And may it never end.