How Circumstance Shapes Our Destiny: Finding Purpose on an Untraveled Road

 

How Unforeseen Turns Reveal Life’s True Purpose

It’s human nature to make plans. We all have a plan for our lives at some point. Life, the wonderful blessing that it is, has a way of taking those plans and giving them a friendly—or not so friendly—twist, sending us in a direction we didn’t envision at first. If you’d told me when I graduated high school that I’d be sitting here, pouring my passions onto a page and knowing somebody somewhere is reading them, I’d think you were insane. I didn’t know then about my passion for the law short of my dad jokingly telling me I’d make a good lawyer after talking my way out of whatever trouble I may have been in. It wasn’t until later, when I considered my passion for true crime and cop shows, that I realized that if circumstances were different, I’d have gone into police work. Yet, as I reflect on my journey, I can’t help but smile. I may not be patrolling the streets in a cruiser, or a detective in a nice suit investigating a suspicious death, but sitting here putting my thoughts on the page made me realize something. What I thought were limitations had become opportunities, and my dreams hadn’t faded, but transformed.

The Road Not Taken: A Fascination with Police Work

I was fascinated with law enforcement from an early age, though it took drafting this article to bring back the memories. I had a friend in elementary school whose dad was a cop—still is as far as I know—and seeing him in uniform from time to time made me curious even at that age. I even remember one time years later when he stopped a car in which I was a passenger when we were stopped at my mailbox, oddly enough. He pulled us over because there were no plates on the vehicle we were in. He could have given me a seatbelt ticket—and in hindsight, I wish the would have—along with an obstruction ticket for lying to him about just taking it off to check the mail. He did neither. I bring this up because when I think of the compassion he showed me that day, I remember why I wanted to be a cop and what kind of cop I would have been. I feel like I would have given a kid a break in that situation, like Dave did for me that day. Unfortunately, I was unknowingly headed in a very different direction.

At the point in my life in which I’d encountered Dave mere feet from my apartment I was not keeping the best company. I was engaging in friendships of convenience, friendships with people that weren’t worthy of my time. I knew two things for sure. I knew that I likely couldn’t pursue police work because I was unable—and at the time even afraid—to drive. I also knew that the current crowd with whom I was associating would not approve of such an endeavor, anyway. Therefore, my pursuit of what I thought would be a fulfilling career of public service in a police uniform was put on hold and remains there to this day. As I sit here, though, I have a new understanding why that is.

Life has a way of being unpredictable. As much as it upset me, I had to accept the fact that some doors were going to be closed to me because of simple logistics—not being able to drive, for instance. I realized I was not cut out for a field that would require long shifts, quick responses, and high mobility—realistically, I would be a walking disaster (See what I did there? Completely intentional) in the face of a flight risk suspect. I won’t lie and say this realization wasn’t a disappointment. It was indeed that, but it also led to a fundamental reshaping of my identity, forcing me to reevaluate what my contribution to the world could be.

A Fascination with Journalism: Newspapers and Sports Broadcasts Lead the Way

I’ve always been an old soul. I remember in my early teens, which for context was around the year 2000, that I would sit in my bedroom at 6pm, homework already done for the night, and watch the 6:00 news followed by Wheel of Fortune at 6:30—I loved that show. I didn’t know why I was doing it. It was a subconscious thing. I think it had something to do with my great-aunt, as she would always insist on watching the news at 6 and 10pm when I’d spend weekends with her as a kid and teen. She also read our local paper. It wasn’t long before I did so as well. Between the newscasts, the paper, and summer after summer of Braves games, I’d discovered a love for journalism, and it was right in front of me all along.

When I think about how my aspirations for journalism—particularly on the sports side—started, I always remember my dad. He’d always comment on how I could watch a game and always know exactly who was on the field, what they were doing, what their stats were, etc. He followed that up by saying I’d make a good play-by-play man with that skill. With that small, seemingly innocuous exchange, my interest in sportscasting grew. I would watch games the same way, but I would pay particular attention to the announcers, what they said and when, and how they conveyed certain on-field events to listeners. When I listen to Ben Ingram on the Braves Radio Network now, I think back to what the men before him sounded like, how they called the game, and how I would call it if it were me. Unfortunately for my current and future self, teenage me was shortsighted and frankly, extremely stupid. Not only did I miss out on the Radio and Television class my high school offered, I didn’t put the effort I should have into anything. My mind was not on the future. It was stuck in the past and obsessing over circumstances I couldn’t control. Little did I know then how much I would come to regret this. 

The Weight of Circumstance

For longer than I care to admit, I struggled with the reality of living with cerebral palsy. It felt unfair that a single diagnosis when I was barely old enough to walk could dictate so much of my life. I refused to admit that I was angry early in life. Instead, I took it out on others, using other triggers to mask the actual source. All the while, as I watched friends, classmates, and even my siblings go on to lead fulfilling lives, I felt stuck, wrestling with a sense of loss I didn’t understand. Why, I asked myself, should my dedication to success count for less simply because my body refused to cooperate?

In my quieter moments, however, the ones spent in near-silent contemplation, usually with a pen in hand or a keyboard in front of me, I slowly realized my circumstances were not merely closing doors, but also nudging me toward new open ones. I could now see that every obstacle was, in its own way, a redirection, a detour, if you will. For every roadblock, there was a new path. All I had to do was look for it.

Everything Happens for a Reason

There’s a saying that borders on cliche—but no less true for it—-that everything happens for a reason. At first, I resisted this notion, took it exactly as it was, a cliche. When in the grips of a shattering defeat, those words rang hollow when I inevitably heard them from somebody, like a consolation prize almost. As time passed, and as I grew to accept the limitations, I’d once fought so hard to dismiss, I found comfort in the possibility that fate knew more than I did.

What if the inability to drive, the constant battle with the limitations I try so hard to ignore, and the encroaching darkness that came with retreating farther into myself were not punishments but pivots, forks in the road? What if there has been a hand guiding me the entire time? What if all these things were stepping stones for me to arrive where I was really needed—not in the turmoil and chaos of a police station, but here, within the walls of my home, beside the people who needed me the most?

Fate, Family, and the Unexpected Gift

Writing this piece has left me in a state of forced introspection. I welcome it because as I look back, I realize that what felt like a detour at the time was, in fact, the path I was supposed to walk. Circumstances kept me home, and it turned out that home was where I was needed most. I could be present for my family through my mom’s knee surgeries and other medical battles. I was always there on my nephew’s birthdays and as much as my work schedule would allow; I was in the stands for my niece when she played sports. None of that would have been possible if I’d been off in some distant city punching away on a keyboard like I am now or chasing down criminals. Instead, I was a steady presence in my family’s life, and I take great pride in that. I have trouble expressing it outwardly but I love my family, and anything I can do to be a comforting and constant presence in their lives is as fulfilling as anything else I could be doing.  

Redefining Success and Fulfillment

I’ve noticed throughout my life that we are culturally predisposed to measuring success by professions and titles, by how close we got to the dreams we had as kids. Success and its definition are more complex than that. Success is found in the courage to adapt, in one’s ability to accept what cannot be changed, and in the wisdom to snatch opportunity from the jaws of loss.

I am not the police officer I wanted to be as recently as a decade ago. But I am what I think I would be from the beginning. I am a writer, a storyteller, and a present and attentive family member. My lifelong battle with cerebral palsy, once a source of unresolved anger and frustration, is now a gentle reminder that true strength is not measured in what we accomplish, but how we respond to adversity. 

From Fact to Fiction: A New Justice

As I sat with the thoughts of what could have been, an old love resurfaced, a love that I think had always been there. I realized that while I couldn’t serve as a police officer, there was nothing stopping me from immersing myself in the world of crime, justice, and intrigue through my writing. My passion for the law, once a source of frustration for what I could not do, suddenly became a spark for a new endeavor. I was about to trade the potential badge for a keyboard, spinning my love for true crime into stories of my own.

Just like that, my limitations went from being shackles keeping me in place to sources of inspiration. I poured my knowledge, empathy, and imagination into crafting crime stories. Though I haven’t published anything save for the content on this blog to this point, I’ve been able to scratch my law enforcement itch with the pen, more than making up for not being able to hold a badge. Through my characters, I can chase down bad guys, With my pen, I could explore the moral complexities of justice and redemption. Through the craft I’ve always loved, I could create a world I could never walk in myself and, in so doing, invite others to share the experience.

Embracing the Journey

If you’re reading this and facing a crossroads—a moment in which circumstances have closed the doors through which you planned to walk—I hope my story offers some comfort, and possibly some inspiration. Fate may have different plans for us than we originally had for ourselves, but that does not reduce their value. Often, the path we ultimately walk ends up being richer, deeper, and more meaningful than anything we could have imagined. 

We’ve all heard the phrase, “Everything happens for a reason” in life. Sometimes, our most difficult challenges lead us on a journey we wouldn’t have dreamed of before. My journey is proof that circumstance does not define us. It is how we respond to the circumstances and adversity that defines us as people. Sometimes, the best stories are the ones that begin with an unexpected—sometimes initially unwanted—turn.

So here I am, on a different path than I’d originally imagined. This path, though it didn’t lead me to a police precinct or a newspaper, it led me to this creative pursuit, to more quality time with my family, and to fulfillment fart beyond a uniform, badge, or press pass. For that, I am grateful.

What were your dreams growing up? How do they differ from where you are now? Did you experience a fork in the road you didn’t expect, one that led you to something more fulfilling than your original plan? Leave your comments in the comment section below. As always, I’d love to have a conversation with you.