Part Two: Mona Lisa Courage
A word from Susan
In this part…
Essay: What Mona Lisa Can Teach Us
After I left HGTV, I tried to get some balance in my life, so I attended a retreat at Joe Zarantonello’s Loose Leaf Hollow in Bardstown, Kentucky. Loose Leaf is a spiritual retreat center not far from the Abbey of our Lady of Gethsemane, and Gethsemane is a monastery with its roots in ancient Christian contemplative practices.
The location of Loose Leaf Hollow is not an accident. Joe was a high school teacher in Houston with a young family and wife Pam, also a teacher, when Joe felt called in a different direction, so he uprooted his family to Bardstown, about twenty miles from Gethsemane. There, he and his ever-patient wife Pam set up Loose Leaf Hollow, and over the years he has taken in-depth instruction from monks at the Monastery.
I met Joe through my friend Judy Girard, and he has been my go-to spiritual director for over a dozen years. He has many images on his walls at Loose Leaf—Jesus, Buddha, “My two great teachers,” he would tell you, his grandmother, who was another great teacher for him, and Mona Lisa.
“Why Mona Lisa?” I ask him.
It was Saturday morning, and the sun was shining through the windows. Our group had just finished twenty minutes of meditation.
“Why Mona Lisa?” he repeats my question, somewhat incredulous, his eyes glittering with secret amusement. “Why do tourists from all over the globe travel to Paris, even now, with protests in the streets, to see her? Why Mona Lisa? Why are people standing in line for hours at the Louvre to see this unfinished portrait by Leonardo da Vinci? A picture that is not much bigger than a pillow?”
He obviously has some energy around the question.
Joe continued: “The only portraits of women painted during that time were of queens. Yet there she is. Not tied to a role. At home in the world. Home sweet home with herself.”
We Pass by Ourselves Without Wondering
Roles, tasks, duties. We confuse them with who we are. We don’t do this consciously. As women, we are always ridiculously busy, so it’s auto pilot—showing up for everyone else when they need you. Family. Work. Friends in need. Who should I fix first? The need to help or fix is often instinctual for us.
If all your roles were taken away, who would you be? Who is buried beneath them all, and why don’t we take the time to know her? At forty-two, I began asking myself these questions. Regardless of age, understanding how we’re made is not some abstract task, it’s a necessity. It’s how we come to live with steadiness, peace of mind and joy.
And yet, Saint Augustine wrote that people wonder at the height of mountains, the waves of the sea, the motion of the stars, yet they pass by themselves without wondering. We don’t take the time to know how we’re made, and from there, how we belong to the world, beyond being employees or spouses or on time to pick up our kids/grandkids from school.
Over the years, I found that understanding what gave me joy was not selfish—it’s led to a full, rich life worth living.
At Home in the World, and With Ourselves
When we do our roles well, others often affirm us, which feels good. But we need to affirm our own worth too, and I work with those I mentor to do that. I believe we seek validation from others because we think if we knew how we were made—with limits as well as strengths, we might reject her. She’s not good enough. She’s not accomplished enough. Even worse, she is unlovable.
But none of this benefits us. To be the best parent, partner and friend we can be, we need to know and honor our true selves. To cozy up with her like a good book you’ve always wanted to read.
Big Brave Truth: What’s brave, perhaps even heroic, is understanding ourselves and what gives us joy.
Action Step: What gives you joy? Write about it.
Kellie’s Story: Defying Roles
Saying "No" to the Status Quo
For me, bravery means having the quiet courage to stand by your convictions, even when it means going against the grain. In my personal and professional life, bravery has meant saying "No" to the societal expectations of what it meant to be a "lady" and choosing a path that felt true to who I am.
Bravery, to me, is stepping out of the box and doing or saying something that makes you uncomfortable or anxious, but forging ahead because, at your core, you know it’s the best choice for you.
Challenging the Status Quo
My mother grew up a Southern belle, raised to be an impeccable wife and mother, and she tried to raise me the same way. "Act like a little lady," she would tell me as I left for school. But I struggled to fit into this mold. I fought with boys at recess, argued with teachers, and questioned everything. Moreover, I chose to pursue construction as my first job, deliberately challenging the traditional roles expected of women.
My biggest acts of defiance, however, were saying "No" to having children, and waiting until I was 38 to get married. (My husband had kids of his own, and never expected children from me). Society and my upbringing told me that a woman’s worth was tied to marriage and motherhood. Yet, I knew deep down that this wasn’t who I was. I love kids, but I’m not a mother.
Having said all of that, it’s also true there are moments I feel that I disappointed my mother, and even God, with these choices. Those are hard moments for me, but I don’t regret my life today.
Facing the Backlash
When I made these unconventional choices, the immediate reaction of friends and family was often shock, followed by debates about why I was wrong. They told me how much I would miss out on and how I could never understand the joys of having children. A close friend even suggested that without kids, my life would be worthless. That comment has stayed with me, and I wonder if other women like me have heard hurtful things like that too.
In my professional life, I faced a different kind of prejudice. While I was able to focus on my career without the distractions of raising children, this also led to my accomplishments being discounted. People assumed my success was easier to achieve because I didn’t have a family to think of.
Reflections and Growth
At the time, I didn’t see my decisions as brave—more like defiance or rebellion. Now, I realize that standing by my convictions, knowing myself, and recognizing that my impact on the world could be different from the conventional path of motherhood, was indeed brave. It was about challenging the core beliefs I was raised with and resisting societal pressures, even when I wasn’t fully aware of them. My Christian faith has also helped guide me through these challenging decisions. Through prayer, scripture, and the people God has brought into my life, I find peace and strength.
Bravery isn’t always about grand gestures. Sometimes, it’s about quietly standing your ground, even when the world tells you to conform.
Big Brave Truth: Making hard choices and staying true to them is brave.
Action Step: Purchase a hiking compass to be a symbol of your True North. If you are feeling pressed to do what others want—but what is not true to you, reach for it and hold it gently, until that other pressure passes.
Kellie is a commercial real estate broker in Southern California.
Susan’s Story: The Bracelet
What Helped Me to Not Run Away
When you are raised in a big, sprawling, ethnically diverse family like I was with fifteen aunts and uncles, you believe that having kids is a given. Since my husband, Bill and I couldn’t have any of our own, we adopted our son, Andrew from Romania. I tried to teach him about Romania, and he’d proudly announce to strangers: “I’m ‘dopted from Mania!”
Andrew was a fun-loving, fierce-tempered child. His bursts of anger were unpredictable. For me, managing people at work was a whole lot easier than being a mother. Mostly, I confess, it was hard for me to stay emotionally present with him.
Sometimes, he made it easy. Like the time he was a teenager, arguing for a car. I said to him, “A car is not an entitlement, Drew. For years, you’ve asked for a dog. Let’s talk about that.”
“Mom, I can’t drive a dog to school.”
So yes, sometimes it was easy to be present with him, given his sense of humor.
But then there were the other times.
Time Off Work
Bill had to travel to Detroit when his dad was having surgery, so I decided to take a week off work and be there for Drew, then fifteen, as a stay-at-home mom would do. I figured this would be a happy week together. We got there… eventually.
I asked Drew, “What do you like that I cook?”
“Not sure. You know two hundred ways to make chicken, and they all taste the same.”
Okaaay.
“What would you like me to cook then?”
“Can you make McDonald’s hamburgers?”
And so, our week began.
The Lowest Form of Life
That week, I learned I was a terrible driver and a boring cook, had fat under my arms, and was not nice to service people. I learned of that last character flaw after Drew and I drove to our local Smoothie King shack one afternoon and I had to repeat our order three times because, well, I’m not sure what exactly was going on in that little shack.
“Stop barking at him, Mom! It’s rude!”
As we drove home with our smoothies, I thought about our week together, which was coming to an end. I felt completely inept as a mother, which confirmed what I’d already believed about myself. We walked in the door, and I turned to him, knowing I needed to say something but wanting to run away.
“Congratulations, Drew,” I started. “You’ve succeeded in making me feel like the lowest form of life this week. The next time you say something to me, either make it nice or at least neutral. Otherwise, don’t say anything to me.”
This Hard Role
I believe some of us are born to be moms. I’ve watched those moms, and mothering comes naturally to them. Yes, they have challenges in parenting too, but they have a source of patience and nurturing inside them that is their beacon, allowing them to stay present.
I also believe that some of us often feel lost and ill-suited to motherhood. I am one of those women. The role of mother is the hardest one I play because it means being confrontative yet kind, and detaching with love when that’s needed—none of which comes as naturally as my work life does. Sometimes it hurts my heart to admit that.
The Bracelet
The day after the Smoothie incident was a Saturday. Other than quick trips to the kitchen in silence, Drew had stayed behind his bedroom door the whole day. A wall between us. That evening, he emerged.
“Mom, hold out your arm.”
“Why? So you can point out my arm fat?”
“Just do it,” he said quietly.
He tied a small rope with beads of all colors on my wrist.
“I learned how to make these bracelets when I was a camp counselor. It’s probably weird that I made this for you. Is it weird?”
A peace offering. When I, the adult, was the one who should have offered one.
Through tears, I whispered, “Not weird. Amazing. Beautiful. Thank you.”
I kept that bracket for many years and reached for it, like rosary beads, when I needed strength to be the best mom I could be. And to forgive myself for not always playing that role as gracefully as I wished.
Big Brave Truth: We are each given gifts. Certain roles in life come easily, others do not, and that’s OK. Self-acceptance matters most in those moments.
Action Step: Sit in the quiet. Think of a particularly hard moment when you stayed present and didn’t deflect or walk away. The next time such a moment comes up—and it will—you will know that you can stay present in those times.
I’ve loved reading these stories Susan! The bracelet story brought a tear to my eye. Motherhood has brought me some of my most humbling moments in life. 💗
I love these stories, Susan. My heart has been busy processing the pain of our present reality. It was nice to feel a different part of my heart while reading these stories tonight. It wasn't the pain center. It was that really warm part where we hold our dearest people. Your bracelet story reminded me of one that I received from my son a long time ago. I got it out to wear around for a bit. It's a nice reminder of what matters in life.