You meet a lot of people when you’re young…many or most of whom play a part and move on. And while this is not intended as commentary on their value, worth, or contribution to the greater world, FOR YOU when your mind travels back to that season of life…to those early years…most of those voices are no more than white noise. Nondescript. Neutral. Unremarkable.

But there are a few voices. There are a few voices that sing in your mind…a few that stand out for their beauty, their clarity, their impact.

And for me, one of those voices is Amanda Springer.

We met when we were kids, and even though I was a few years older, Amanda always - ALWAYS - impressed me. She had a way of seeing the world that was unique and refreshing. She had a presence about her that made you want to be where she was. She was impactful and influential…even as a teenager.

So, although we lost touch through the years, I wasn’t at all surprised to hear that she was rising through the ranks of IBM and then Accenture. She’s just that kind of person - she succeeds at whatever she puts her mind to; she’s off-the-charts smart and crazy talented; and at her core she cares deeply about creating an equal playing field for others.

She is who you want leading your company.

Anyway, I knew Amanda would excel wherever she went and with whatever she did in life, but when she and I reconnected a while back and I learned that she’d accepted a role at MiracleFeet, I knew great things were about to happen.

I’ll let her pick up the story from here…

I hear, “You’re lucky” a lot.

And from the outside, that comment makes sense.

 

I spend my days as Director of Program Solutions for MiracleFeet, an international nonprofit that treats clubfoot, the birth defect I was born with, in children in low-income countries. I run our technology products and services, a role I fell into comfortably after a 16-year career managing IT services teams at IBM and Accenture.

 

You know that Venn diagram folks love to show with the “sweet spot” at the intersection of what you’re good at, what someone will pay you to do, and what you enjoy? My job is, perfectly, that.

 

So, yes, I understand why you might call me “lucky.” But in reality, finding MiracleFeet, (although six years ago I didn’t know they existed) only happened after I dove head-first into my deepest pain.

 

I was born with both of my feet turned inward and upward. The doctor who delivered me told my parents it was likely that I would never walk. Thankfully, with surgeries, serial casting, and regular trips from upstate New York to Hartford, Connecticut to see the most prominent clubfoot surgeon in the nation at that time, I have virtually no physical limitations today.

 

Although my clubfoot was treated successfully within the first two years of my life, the visual after-effects were the bane of my existence as I was growing up. The surgeries, foot reconstructions, and casts left my calf muscles irreparably atrophied. My lower legs were (and are) simply skin and bones, with no hope of future muscle development.

 

When kids were old enough to notice, I became aware enough to believe this condition defined me. I dealt with stares, jeers, and rude questions almost constantly throughout my childhood.

 

I decided, in late elementary school, that it was just easier to cover up my condition. Long pants became a wardrobe staple. I suffered silently through the summer months, even wearing pants to the beach. I was completely absorbed in my internal pity-party. A prisoner in a cell of self-consciousness I built around myself.

 

My pattern of cover-up and denial lasted well into adulthood. Until the day I was forced to confront it.

 

In 2015, fresh off resigning from Accenture and moving my husband and two young boys from Seattle to Raleigh to be closer to family, I was going through life coach training at The Martha Beck Institute. I had honed in on coaching women looking for more self-confidence (ironic, eh?) in the workplace. In one practice session with a Master Coach, my own internal “stuff” came up around my self-consciousness about my legs.

 

Of course, it did.

 

“Amanda,” my coach said, “it’s clearly time you dealt with your own self-confidence issues before you help others with theirs.” It stung, but she was right.

 

So, I dove head-first into the work with the help of a fellow coach. It was an intense 6-month journey confronting the traumatic childhood experiences that led to my damaging, limiting beliefs. I had to excavate those memories and identify the specific voices in my head that already concluded my worth and lovability was somehow tied to the size of my calves.

 

Hard, deep work. Painful, at times.

 

And then…..liberation.

 

I remember it as a light switch, but I’m sure it wasn’t.

 

Eventually, one day came when I truly believed that my legs were a gift.

 

I purchased five pairs of shorts (baby steps!) and started posting pics showing my whole body, legs exposed, on social media.

 

Looking back, this was the moment when my purpose was unleashed.

As I type that word, “unleashed,” it feels bold, almost wrong.

 

Except, no. “Unleashed” is totally appropriate.

 

Everything snowballed from there. I fully embraced my birth defect and my resulting dredge through self-consciousness and insecurity. It was becoming my badge of honor.

 

One day, I decided to join a Facebook group called, “Adults and Teens with Clubfoot.” Before that day, I had met one person in my 40 years of life who was born with clubfoot. As I scrolled through the posts, ripe with experiences and struggles mirroring my own, I came across a promotion for a fundraiser that a member of the group had started, for an organization called “MiracleFeet.”

 

Wait. There is a nonprofit that helps children born with clubfoot? This is a real thing?

 

I clicked through the link. I was instantly drawn into the story of this grassroots start-up who was tackling an under-represented and overlooked condition that was so personal to me.

 

Then I clicked on the “About” page. There, barely visible, in the footer, was the address of MiracleFeet HQ. MiracleFeet had a presence in 20 countries, but their headquarters was FIFTY MILES from the house I just bought.

 

Every once in a while, something happens that triggers a deep, deep knowing that it is meant to be. The day I read about MiracleFeet was the exact day I knew…. absolutely KNEW….that I would work there.

There was simply no question.

I emailed the Executive Director. I said something to the effect of, “What do you need? I can do anything.”

 

That was five years ago. Today, I have held 4 different roles at MiracleFeet, each one more interesting than the last, as we grow and evolve and find ways to make an even bigger impact than we did yesterday.

 

MiracleFeet is an organization dedicated to growth, expansion, innovation, and the use of technology to create an equitable playing field in life for every child born with clubfoot. I am currently the Director of Program Solutions, a department created only 18 months ago, but a truly perfect fit. We’re focused on innovations, products, and services that help make clubfoot treatment accessible to everyone.

 

The thread connecting my life experience and the opportunity at MiracleFeet makes all the sense in the world now.

 

The way into your purpose is only through your personal work.

 

My jobs are not merely jobs – they are my teachers.

 

My personal shame over my clubfoot has completely melted away. I guess there’s something about coming face-to-face, daily, with the realization that I’m privileged enough to be counted in the 10% of the world’s clubfoot population that had access to quality treatment.

 

Recently, I heard Glennon Doyle say that to find you purpose, you needed to find, “What breaks your heart.”

 

A preventable disability breaks my heart. Children who are disadvantaged simply because of the country they were born in, breaks my heart.

 

What a gift. What a privilege. I can make a small dent in remedying this injustice.

 

Go deep. Do the work. Explore the experiences in life that bring you the most pain. You might, in the process, write your own liberation story.