Seeds of a Calling: One Woman's Journey of Finding the Courage to Live Her Truth

By Katie De Jong

SEEDS OF A CALLING IS A CAUTIONARY TALE ABOUT THE PRICE YOU PAY WHEN YOU TURN YOUR BACK ON YOUR TRUTH

From the outside looking in, Kate's life appears perfect. In her mid-thirties, she holds a highly paid senior management position in a corporate engineering consulting firm and lives in an affluent suburb of Perth with her adored husband. She's 'made it'.

But beneath the shiny façade, her world is crumbling. Hiding a world of emotional pain, chronic fatigue and mystery illnesses, Kate's life is on a collision course between what conditioning and society tells her she should do, and the life she secretly craves, but believes she cannot have.

At age 35, her two worlds collide, and she's left broken by a series of devastating events. Kate has a choice to make. Continue on the path that is killing her and her hopes of ever having children, or risk everything she's spent a lifetime building to pursue what's in her heart.

But how do you follow your heart when it means disappointing those you love?
How do you be yourself when it means going against a lifetime of societal conditioning?
How do you choose your truth when you believe you won't be loved or valued if you do?

Kate's story is a cautionary tale of the price you pay when you don't listen to your voice of inner knowing. Emotional and deeply personal, her story is a must-read for any woman seeking to live a life of personal truth and deeper meaning; to make every day of your precious life count.

"Your truth is personal. It's different to everyone else's. No one else can tell you what yours is because it's uniquely yours. Only you know it, only you can feel it."
—Katie De Jong.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Katie De Jong
• Release date: Feb 17, 2022
• ISBN: 9780645388213

Book preview

SeeTitle

Your truth is personal. It’s different to everyone else’s. No one else can tell you what yours is because it’s uniquely yours. Only you know it, only you can feel it.

—Katie De Jong.

Praise for Katie de Jong, PHD

Seeds of a Calling

Katie’s generous and transparent confessions of disempowering relationships, life choices made for all the ‘wrong’ reasons and chasing down a path of unfulfilling outcomes, she had me nodding my head with every page turn. Her story of personal resilience, revelation and re-creation was a call to action for me, to make every day of my precious life count.

– 5 Stars, Deb Chamberlin.

Katie’s story had me on the edge of my seat from the very first page. Raw and emotional, Kate bares her soul as we follow her journey through life as it takes her further and further away from her ‘inner knowing’ and the tragic consequences that followed.

– 5 Stars, Athena Daniels.

Katie’s book was such a satisfying read! The momentum is perfect to keep you flicking the pages. I loved her down-to-earth language and the Australian hues in it. It’s the first time I’ve got into a good book in ages. Her message is so powerful, relevant and relatable.

– 5 Stars, Eleanor Gallanagh.

Katie’s story is so well written, relatable and the points are really clear. I like that she shares her learnings in a way that people will connect with, rather than ‘preaching at them’ in a more academic-type way. This is a brilliant book and there are so many valuable lessons in here that will help other women. I will be recommending this book to as many women as possible.

– 5 Stars, Sharon Gleeson.

Contents

Also by Katie De Jong, PhD

Author’s Note

Introduction

Prologue

Part 1

A Disappointment

Seeds

New Chances

Truth Speaking

The First Time

Empty Husk

Turning Away

Sliding Doors

Conditioning

Privilege

Longing and Responsibility

Loss and Grief

Humiliation

Part 2

Lost

Burning the Candle

Red Flags

Reunited

Betrayal

Turning Point

What’s Wrong with Me?

Purpose

It’s All in Your Head

New Perspective

A Miscommunication

When Will It Be My Turn?

Part 3

You’re Enough

Disillusioned

The Clock Is Ticking

Two Dark Lines

Broken Dreams

The Back Door

Dr. Brenters

Dark Night

The Moment of Clarity

Regrets

Paris

Flowing With the River

Seeds of a Calling

Acknowledgments

About Katie De Jong, Phd

Social Links

ALSO BY KATIE DE JONG, PhD

The Art of Unlearning: Conscious Choices for Empowered Living (Anthology)

https://katiedejong.com/the-art-of-unlearning-book/

Copyright © 2022 Katie De Jong PhD

All rights reserved.

ISBN (print): 978-0-6453882-0-6

ISBN (ebook): 978-0-6453882-1-3

Cover design: Damonza.com

Print and eBook formatting: Damonza.com

Author photos: Donna Fortune and Rebecca Johnansson

Editing: Victoria Curran

Proofreading: Jennifer Safrey

Book and Publishing Coach: Athena Daniels

No part or the whole of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, distributed, transmitted or utilized (other than for reading by the intended reader) in ANY form (now known or hereafter invented) without prior written permission by the author. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal, and punishable by law.

Publisher’s Note: This work depicts actual events in the life of the author as truthfully as recollection permits. Occasionally, dialogue consistent with the character or nature of the person speaking has been supplemented. It’s almost impossible to recall a conversation word for word, however, it was the author’s intention to capture the essence and emotion of the conversations as accurately as possible, through her lens only. It is understood that the other person’s memories may be different to the author’s own. The author has done their best to make it a truthful story. All persons within the story are actual individuals. However, to respect their privacy and anonymity, where the author felt necessary, their identities and certain details about them have been modified.

AUTHOR’S NOTE

When women share their stories with honesty and clarity, we heal and grow together. I have personally found great solace in reading other women’s stories throughout my life and it is my hope that my story helps you too.

There is not a single ounce of blame or judgment in my story. I genuinely believe that every person is always doing their best in every given moment. This is my story, told through my lens, with the intention to open up dialogue about important topics that we all share in life. We’re all human and flawed; perfectly imperfect.

I know that it was never anyone’s intention to hurt me and I harbour no hard feelings or resentment. I, too, have hurt people through my shortcomings, which I regret. What matters is that we keep learning and growing, always striving to do better and be better. And I hope my story helps in some way to that end.

To every woman who is fighting the brave fight to be herself.

I

ntroduction

In 2009, after having spent eight years caring for terminally ill patients in their homes, an Australian woman, Bronnie Ware, wrote a blog post about The Top 5 Regrets of the Dying. Bronnie had listened intently to the stories shared by her patients in their final days and she recognized common themes among the regrets that her patients shared. Little did she know that her blog would go viral and be shared more than three million times in the first year. It landed her a publishing deal, a TED talk, interviews with high-profile celebrities and published articles in ‘O’ The Oprah Magazine, HuffPost, The Wall Street Journal and many others. Her article spread like wildfire because she wrote about five human truths. And the truth resonates when we hear it. 

The number-one regret Bronnie’s patients shared was this:

I wish I’d had the courage to live a life true to myself, not the life others expected of me.

And so, as those on their deathbeds tell us, the best life you can live is one in which you’re true to yourself. Which is easier said than done, because it’s not easy to do so. We grow up with so much societal conditioning about what we should and shouldn’t do. We grow up believing that others know what’s best for us. We’re told from a young age what’s ‘right’ and ‘wrong’. We lose connection to our inner voice. We stop believing that voice because we’re told it’s not accurate or appropriate. It takes courage to go against the grain. It’s exactly as the American philosopher, Ralph Waldo Emerson, stated back in the 1800s:

To be yourself in a world that is constantly trying to make you something else is the greatest accomplishment.

To be true to yourself is to follow what feels right for you. You know your truth when you land upon it because it feels aligned. It feels exciting. It’s like a magnet, pulling you towards it. Your truth is personal. It’s different from everyone else’s. No one else can tell you what yours is because it’s uniquely yours. Only you know it; only you can feel it.

My story is about what happens when you ignore your truth. Turning away from it is an act of self-betrayal and it can have disastrous consequences on all aspects of your life. I betrayed myself in countless ways, some small and some significant, in trying to be something that wasn’t me; someone I thought I needed to be. It resulted in a slow, gradual decline in my health and well-being. I suffered from mystery illnesses and chronic fatigue for more than ten years, which impacted my work, my relationships and my ability to live my life. I spent more than a decade being constantly unwell, tired and anxious. In my mid-thirties, I was finally brought to my knees by a series of events that nearly broke me.

Heartbroken and shattered, I was forced to wake up to the disastrous effects that my unconscious and unintentional acts of self-betrayal had caused in all areas of my life. The veil slowly lifted, and I was finally able to see what I’d been doing to myself. And I realised that it had to change.

It is my fervent hope that my story helps you and inspires you to choose truth and courage over temporary comfort. It’s not easy to be true to yourself; you risk disappointing, upsetting or even hurting others. But you must. Because the consequences of turning your back on your truth are real and lasting. My intention is to help you understand how to listen to your own personal truth always, and to live it fully.

Because, as Emerson said, that is indeed the greatest accomplishment.

P

rologue

October 2010

I blinked my eyes open. Where was I? I couldn’t see. My eyes were blurry. My head was foggy from deep sleep. I rubbed my eyes, tender and swollen from days of crying. As things became clear again, I remembered that I was home alone in bed.

All the images came flooding back, one by one. Our lifeless baby on the ultrasound screen, again. Dr. Brenters’ face etched with stress. Bas’ bloodshot eyes as he sobbed into my shoulder. The flurry of hospital staff in green scrubs wheeling me in and out of surgery. The midwives parking me on a stretcher next to the birthing theatre while Dr. Brenters performed an emergency caesarean. Hearing the beautiful first cries of a newborn baby that wasn’t mine. The nurses patting my head and telling me it was going to be okay. The anaesthetist preparing me to go under. Bas and I driving home from the hospital with my empty womb, again.

Why did I have to wake up? Why couldn’t I just stay asleep forever? What was the point anymore?

When we lost our first baby I put on my happy mask and went back to work. Nothing to see here. But I couldn’t do that this time. No one tells you how to get through this. And I wasn’t even sure that I would. I couldn’t get out of bed. And for the first time in my life, I didn’t care about my busy life with its relentless demands and deadlines.

Nothing mattered to me anymore.

Nothing at all.

Part 1

top

A

Disappointment

It was Tuesday morning before school, and Dad and I were standing in the kitchen with the robot on the bench in front of us. Dad was patiently explaining to me once more how the robot worked. He wanted to make sure I understood it all fully before I had to present it to my extension class in the afternoon. He’d carefully drawn a diagram to show me how all the different circuits and elements worked together to make the robot flash its eyes and move its head and arms.

I couldn’t concentrate. I had no interest whatsoever in this robot that my Dad felt so passionate about. To me, it was a hunk of cardboard, wires and moving parts. I felt bad, though, because Dad had spent so much time on it with me. He’d taken me to the electronics shop to buy all the different pieces, patiently explaining as we went how the elements worked. He’d gotten out his soldering iron from the garage and sat with me at the kitchen table as he taught me how to solder the wires, resistors and transistors onto the circuit board to create the different circuits that moved the head and the arms and made the eyes flash. I knew I was lucky to have a Dad who cared so much. One of my best girlfriends at school, Katherine, didn’t have a Dad. Her father had left her family when she was little, and she always told me how lucky I was. I knew I was. I wanted to get excited about the robot too and make my Dad proud. But I just couldn’t.

As Dad was explaining the function of a resistor once again, my eyes wandered to the back garden, where I saw our Jack Russell puppy playing with her toy. I wished I could go out and play with her or, better still, go back up to my bedroom and lock myself away. My inner voice was calling me to finish writing the short story I’d started. I was excited to figure out how it would end. I loved writing and I took any chance I could to get words onto the page.

Are you paying attention? Dad asked.

I snapped my attention back to the robot.

Yes.

Are you going to be able to repeat all of this back to the class this afternoon?

I think so.

How about you try to repeat it back now?

I took a deep breath and just as I was trying to gather my thoughts, Mum came hurrying into the kitchen. Girls, get to school! she shouted to my sisters and me. You’re late!

The familiar whirlwind of eight o’clock chaos swirled around me as my two sisters and I tried to gather our school bags, finish our breakfast and get out the door. I folded Dad’s carefully drawn piece of paper and put it in my pocket.

What do I do with the robot, Dad?

I’ll bring it to the class this afternoon for you, so it doesn’t get broken. You get off to school and we’ll see you later today.

The day at school went quickly and before I knew it, it was time to go to my extension class to do my presentation. Mum and Dad picked me up as promised and, upon arriving at the classroom in a local school not too far from mine, we found places to sit in the rows of chairs that had been set up. When everyone was seated, my electronics teacher welcomed us and gave the parents a summary of everything we’d been learning that term. I was secretly grateful for the reminder because I’d already forgotten most of the things we’d been taught. Electronics just didn’t stick in my head. It was like a different language that I had no interest in learning. At the end of his overview, the teacher announced the order of the presentations. Out of my ten classmates, I was going to be number four. 

My three classmates before me dutifully got up to present, one after the other. Not only were their robots very impressive, they also knew how to explain them in intricate detail. The parents clapped, smiled and nodded their heads in approval. I started to get nervous because I didn’t really know what I was going to say and I knew I didn’t understand my robot like these kids did. 

When the third student finished, I felt the heat rising in my cheeks. It was my turn and I was terrified. The teacher called me up to the front. Dad put his hand on my thigh and gave it a squeeze.

Good luck, he whispered.

I gingerly made my way to the front of the classroom and put my robot on the desk in front of me. I could see Mum and Dad smiling at me expectantly. I took a deep breath and started talking.

This is my robot, I said nervously, trying to smile.

As you can see, it has flashing eyes and moving arms. If you press this button here, the colour of the eyes changes.

As the glowing red eyes changed to green, the parents clapped.

And if you press this button here, the arms move.

More approving nods.

Then I froze. I didn’t know what to say next. All I could see was a room full of people staring at me expectantly as I started to sweat. Hoping it would save me, I pulled out Dad’s little piece of paper from my pocket.

We made some circuits to control the robot, I announced.

I stared down at the little piece of paper, but my eyes had gone blurry. All the little lines and squiggles swirled in front of my eyes and they didn’t mean anything. The silence was deafening. The teacher gently asked me to perhaps explain what we used to make the eye colour change. 

I froze again. 

Dad had explained this in intricate detail this morning, but I hadn’t been paying attention. As much as I’d wanted to absorb what he was saying, I hadn’t been able to keep