384: What if you were run over three times?

Summary

This Is Actually Happening – Episode 384: What if you were run over three times?

Release Date: November 18, 2025
Guest: Nassim Ra
Host: Wit Misseldine

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Episode Overview

This gripping episode features Nassim Ra, who recounts her extraordinary survival after being run over not once, but three times by a car in a New Jersey crosswalk. Through her heartfelt and candid narrative, Nassim explores themes of identity, trauma, vulnerability, recovery, and transformation. Beyond the jaw-dropping physical ordeal, Nassim’s story dives into her cultural upbringing, the evolution of her self-worth, and how trauma reshaped every aspect of her life. The episode is a meditation on resilience, the power of community, and reclaiming agency over one’s story.

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Key Discussion Points & Insights

1. Childhood and Cultural Identity

(02:34–12:09)

• Background: Nassim grew up as the child of Indian Muslim immigrants in a predominantly white town. Her parents modeled resilience—her father, a doctor; her mother, a pioneering stockbroker (and poker player) in the 1970s.
• Struggles with Identity: She felt different, uncomfortable in her own skin, and ashamed of her heritage, leading to deep insecurity and loneliness as a child and teen.
• Notable Moment:
  • “All of that confidence that I had been building, or trying to build, pretty much flew out the window at that moment. It just reinforced that I was different, that I was not fitting in.” (08:00) – Nassim, reflecting on a boyfriend’s backhanded compliment about her not being white.
• Turning Point: A friend, Lisa, tells her:
  • “If we don’t like ourselves, why should anybody else like us?” (10:50)
    This sticks with Nassim and seeds her later growth.

2. Adulthood, Achievement, and Self-Discovery

(13:51–20:00)

• Ambition: In adulthood, Nassim found her footing in business and tech. She pursued challenging roles to build confidence, ultimately earning two master’s degrees.
• Intercultural Marriage: Married a Christian man, identified the importance of cross-cultural tolerance and acceptance, especially post-9/11.
• Voice & Representation: Sought to amplify Muslim women’s voices, enrolling in Columbia’s journalism program—though she ultimately stayed in tech to support her growing family.
• Contentment: By her 50s, Nassim felt proud and satisfied, balancing career and family—a rare, happy stability.

3. The Accident – The Day Everything Changed

(20:00–33:44)

• The Incident:
  • May 21, 2018, after a successful workday, Nassim is hit by a car in a crosswalk—initially standing, then run over as the driver accelerates, reverses, and accelerates again.
  • “And then all of a sudden, the driver accelerates… and she drove over me. …Then the driver reverses and drives over me a second time... then the car went forward and snapped me back to the moment. And it drove over me a third time.” (20:45–22:10)
• Near-Death Experience:
  • Reflects on her life and her children in these moments:
    “I started thinking about my kids. My kids were 9, 11, and 13 at the time. I didn’t want them to lose a mother. … Why didn’t I write them letters?” (22:35)
• Miraculous Survival:
  • Despite severe trauma, doctors find no broken bones or catastrophic internal injuries—a medical miracle.
  • “I say that nothing was broken, but everything was broken, because the me that woke up Monday morning was nowhere to be found.” (24:00, also echoed at 51:09)

4. Immediate Aftermath and Emotional Fallout

(24:00–37:00)

• Physical & Emotional Recovery:

  • Unable to move, in excruciating pain, Nassim struggles with dependence on others, which feels humiliating for her “self-sufficient” persona.
  • Her children are traumatized by seeing her injuries.
  • “My daughter had to wash the blood out of my hair, and that still haunts her.” (27:40)

• Invisible Wounds:

  • Suffers a traumatic brain injury, making even basic tasks overwhelming:
    “Simple things were no longer easy. …somebody asking me to do something or even just call them back, it’s too much responsibility.” (30:20)

• Isolation and Vulnerability:

  • Begins to realize the ripple effect of trauma across her family and community.
  • Recounts her brother flying out to help her, but she sends him home, only to desperately want to help him after the loss of his dog—a moment that helps her see the need for reciprocal support.

5. Confronting the Driver & Unresolved Emotions

(33:44–37:00)

• Court Appearance:
  • Sees the driver in court, who shows no remorse—deeply painful for Nassim.
  • “When I saw her and there was no remorse. There was just nothing. I shuddered.” (35:41)
  • Despite theories on the driver’s actions (possible distraction, lack of insurance, fleeing the scene), Nassim is left with unanswered questions and no closure.

6. The Long Road Back – Acceptance, Therapy, and Transformation

(37:00–45:00)

• Return to Work:

  • Returns to work too soon, refusing to hide her scars, even using gold glitter instead of concealer: “I even put gold glitter because I had scars all over my face instead of concealer to hide them. I was embracing this new enlighten me. But the enlighten me didn’t last.” (38:00)
  • Struggles to accept that she can’t “think” her way back to her old self. Realizes she must find new strengths and adapt:
    “I realized I had to reframe ‘I can’t do that’ to ‘I can do this now.’” (40:30)

• Therapy & Kintsugi:

  • Therapist introduces her to kintsugi, the Japanese art of repairing pottery with gold, making the breaks part of its beauty:
    “That concept really helped me move forward because it gave me a way to think about my accident and my issues and challenges, not as a victim, but as this is part of my journey.” (41:05)

• Deeper Connections:

  • Sharing her struggles leads to richer relationships and a sense of community, as others open up about their own hardships.
  • Learns that her previous “supermom” persona made her seem unapproachable. Now, embracing vulnerability, she becomes more authentic.

7. Forgiveness, Self-Preservation, and Shifting Perspectives

(45:00–49:00)

• Letting Go:
  • Practices a kind of radical empathy for those who couldn’t show up for her (friends or even the driver); recognizes that everyone’s wounds and defenses are complex and often hidden.
  • “We all have these complex universes of experience in our lives. We don’t know what triggers each other. Some people probably couldn’t show up for me after the accident, because maybe they couldn’t see me broken…” (46:45)
• Recognition of ‘Invisible’ Pain:
  • Wrestling with the invisible nature of her trauma—outsiders can’t see the toll it’s taken, feeding self-doubt.

8. Celebration, Memoir, and Lessons Learned

(49:00–51:30)

• Unbreakable Day:
  • Family decides to celebrate the accident anniversary as “Unbreakable Day,” focusing on survival and community rather than the trauma.
  • “We decided that we were going to make the day of the accident a holiday and celebrate that I survived. Not that I almost died, but that I survived. That I’m like a superhero. I got run over three times and lived.” (49:35)
• Writing and Outreach:
  • Writes a memoir, The Unexpected Benefits of Being Run Over, with no expectation beyond helping her kids or maybe a few others, but the book resonates widely in the traumatic brain injury community and beyond.
  • “If I can help one or two people, at least I’ve put it out, I’ve paid it forward, I’ve done my part.” (50:35)
• Control Over Your Story:
  • Closing wisdom:
    “We choose the words that we use to talk about what happened. We choose whether we talk about it as a victim or as part of our journey. …by making those choices we take the control back from some very tough moments and we give ourselves the grace to be okay and to move forward.” (51:10)

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Notable Quotes & Memorable Moments

• “Nothing was broken, but everything was broken because the me that woke up Monday morning was nowhere to be found.”
  — Nassim Ra (00:43 & 24:00 & 51:09)

• “I realized I had to reframe ‘I can’t do that’ to ‘I can do this now.’”
  — Nassim Ra (40:30)

• “That concept really helped me move forward because it gave me a way to think about my accident…not as a victim, but as this is part of my journey.”
  — Nassim Ra, on learning about kintsugi (41:05)

• “We choose the words that we use to talk about what happened…We make all of those choices and by making those choices we take control back from very tough moments and give ourselves the grace to be okay and to move forward.”
  — Nassim Ra (51:10)

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Important Timestamps

• 02:34 – Introduction to Nassim’s family background and early struggles with identity
• 10:50 – Pivotal advice from friend Lisa: self-acceptance begins with oneself
• 20:45–23:00 – Step-By-Step recounting of the accident and her near-death reflections
• 27:40 – Children’s reaction to her injuries
• 30:20 – Cognitive challenges and emotional fallout of brain injury
• 33:44 – Confrontation with the driver in court, absence of remorse
• 38:00–41:05 – Return to work, gold glitter, therapy, and the metaphor of kintsugi
• 45:00 – Compassion for those who couldn’t show up; understanding unseen struggles
• 49:35 – Creation of “Unbreakable Day”
• 50:51 – Impact of her memoir, helping others in the TBI community
• 51:10 – Final message on reclaiming one’s narrative

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Tone and Style

Nassim’s storytelling is candid, warm, self-aware, and emotionally raw. She does not shy away from describing her vulnerability, struggles with trauma, and the bittersweet lessons learned on her journey. Her tone shifts from humor (worrying about her lost shoe immediately after the accident) to poignant reflection on the nature of resilience, forgiveness, and the search for meaning in survival.

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Final Reflection

This episode provides not just a harrowing account of physical survival but a crystalline perspective on loss, acceptance, and the power found in reframing one’s journey. Nassim’s story is ultimately one of hope: an invitation to lean into vulnerability, embrace community, and choose to celebrate not just survival, but transformation.

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Guest info:

• Nassim Ra’s memoir: The Unexpected Benefits of Being Run Over
• Contact details and links: [See episode show notes]

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This summary omits sponsor messages and non-content segments for focus and clarity.

Transcript

[A]

Wonder plus subscribers can listen to exclusive episodes of this Is Actually Happening by joining Wonder plus in the Wondery app or on Apple Podcasts. This Is Actually Happening features real experiences that often include traumatic events. Please consult the Show Notes for specific content warnings on each episode and for more information about support services. Hi listeners. As we mentioned last week, we've put together an illustrated book of stories of some of the most beloved episodes of the show. The book will be available for pre order starting next week, so stay tuned for links next week.

[B]

You know I say that nothing was broken, but everything was broken because the me that woke up Monday morning was nowhere to be found.

[A]

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[B]

I come from Indian parents. I'm Indian. My dad was a doctor and he and my mom moved to the US back in the 60s when with no friends, no money and built this amazing life. My mom was a stay at home mom for a while. She's this gambler at heart. She loved the stock market and went out and taught herself all about the stock market and became a broker back in the 70s when there were no women brokers and she was this little Indian woman broker then started her own firm. She used to go play poker in Atlantic City every week with the guys she worked with. I love knowing that about my mom, that she was just fierce and just ran this world of so many responsibilities with so much grace and style. I feel lucky to have had that as a role model. When my parents first came to the U.S. i don't think they had any intention of settling down forever, but the comforts and the friends they made and the freedoms they had made it too Easy to settle in. They lived in a few different places, Detroit and New York. They loved India. They had all their family in India, but they built this robust social life. And my parents used to party four nights a week. They had a social life that kept them out. Thursday night, Friday night, Saturday night, Sunday dinners. I'm in my 50s now, and I would love, like, a tenth of the fun that they had. I am one of two kids. I have an older brother who was actually born in India. I came eight years later. My parents were very strict in learning the culture with my brother, but so doting and loving and easy on me. My dad would come home from work. He drove an hour and a half to the hospital he worked in every day. But he never brought that home to me. He just came home this loving, social person. He was helping and building a community. And, of course, he was a doctor. And so anybody ever needed help, he was always there. I had these amazing parents, and I didn't fully appreciate them because to me, they were my Indian parents. And I wasn't comfortable being Indian. I grew up in a town where I was one of the only people of color. I didn't want to be different. I wanted to look like everyone else. I wanted to be white. I did not want to be Indian. I could not appreciate my parents or their life or their Indian friends or having the opportunity to go to India every few years. I had this interesting childhood where on one side, I had these loving parents that I was happy with. Then at the same time, I was paralyzed with fear, shy, didn't feel comfortable in my own skin. Always felt like I didn't belong. And I just wanted to be like everybody else. But my life wasn't like everyone else's. I grew up in a town that was Christian and Jewish. I wasn't either. I was Muslim, and nobody had certainly ever heard of that. I wouldn't even talk about it. And I remember when I did finally start dating a boy, you know, I was happy. I felt like somebody finally liked me. And then one day, we were in the back of his station wagon, and he said to me, and he meant this as a compliment, every guy would think you're so beautiful if you were white. All of that confidence that I had been building, or trying to build pretty much flew out the window at that moment. It just reinforced that I was different, that I was not fitting in. People didn't see me just as me. They saw me as Indian, as different. I really had a hard time with that. High school was hard for me. I Was still very shy. I had good friends, but I was lonely. I didn't know how to connect. I didn't connect with my parents. Still felt different and awkward. I remember one weekend getting into a fight with my dad. I think he had let me go to a party or something. I slammed the door of my room and I was so sad. I thought, I can't do this. I can't be different. I can't live like this. I don't even remember all of the thoughts that pushed me to that moment. I just remember the moment of feeling hopeless. I just felt stuck. And I took a bottle of Tylenol. I think it was around 32 Tylenol. Sunday morning I woke up and I was in excruciating pain. But I didn't want to tell my parents. I just dealt with it for six days. I stayed home and threw up. But I. I never told my parents and they never found out. Just thought I had a bad stomach virus. They knew that I wasn't proud of being Indian, but they never knew how tough it was, how uncomfortable it was, how shy I was because of how insecure I was. There was one person that I did tell and that was a friend named Lisa. She was my best friend. She was the one that knew everything. When we went off to college, she said something to me before we left that really helped me begin a trajectory where I grew to be a better person or a person I liked, I should say. She said, you know, Nas, if we don't like ourselves, why should anybody else like us? It has stayed with me for years and as I started college, that was in the back of my mind. If I don't like myself, if I'm not good enough for me, how can I be good enough for anybody else? It really planted the seeds that I want to be a person that I'm proud of when I go to college. I went to school at university in Maryland. The diversity started to show me that I wasn't the only different person. It was okay to not be white. I remember girls that I thought were so pretty and were white would say to me, oh, I love how different you look. You're so beautiful. I wish I looked different like that. And all of a sudden I could start to appreciate there was some value in being a little different. Boys did find me attractive, but I was still in the uncomfortable insecure phase. And unfortunately I drank a lot. I partied heavily. I certainly enjoyed college, but I was self medicated or drunk, I guess I should say. Luckily, after some time I didn't need the medication. I was starting to enjoy life and I was more comfortable with who I was. I was then studying more. I was taking harder classes because all of the energy and time and mind space that I spent on I don't fit in. I'm shy, Nobody likes me. I could direct to other places. I moved to London. I did my last semester abroad. I was much more comfortable in my skin and I loved living in London. It was the best I'd ever felt about myself. That's where I met my first love. His name was Eddie. He was English. We just hit it off instantly. We went to clubs and we traveled around Europe. I remember just having this freedom and this comfort that I was living that life that I had always been so jealous of, like somebody happy with a boyfriend and doing fun stuff. He never saw the me that was so awkward and unattractive and insecure. And he helped nurture that better version of me. When I graduated, I did end up in business school at Rutgers. I got a job and all of a sudden this career ambition blossomed. I realized how much I loved being independent, being in charge of my finances, making my own decisions. Business helped me understand how the world works and all of a sudden I just wanted to be in it. Back then I wanted to be in marketing. I didn't want to just settle down and I wanted to be like my mom. All of a sudden, this badass doing it all.

[A]

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[B]

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[B]

When I graduated from business school, I moved out to San Francisco. This was the mid-90s and then I started the whole.com circus and excitement and moved around from.comto.com whatever the next big thing was. I was in marketing. And marketing is what I loved. It's where I wanted to be. It allowed me to use my business skills as well as my creativity and while I was in marketing, decided I want to be a VP of marketing by the time I turn 30. The only way I can do that is if I get more comfortable in front of clients because at this time I was still very shy. So I got my first job in sales in my late 20s and it changed everything. I realized that in sales I do actually like talking to people. I like helping them solve problems and that was really a big part of the confidence I was building in myself. And it was around that time that I met my now husband and he's only known me as this much stronger person. I was in my late 20s. We got a place in Hoboken and actually had our wedding reception a week after September 11th. We had already gotten married in Fiji, but we were having this big Indian ceremony and I was raised Muslim. My husband is Christian. Our close friends was making the toast was Jewish. We were all so nervous about do we have this celebration or not? Is it tone deaf? There's so much strife in the world right now. We were so conflicted as to what to do in that moment because friends couldn't fly in from California and we were also a little worried. My maiden name was Hussein. You know that is a politically charged name, but I remember our friend standing up and saying in his toast, part of the joy of America is that we can get together a Muslim and a Jew and a Christian and and celebrate together. I just remember feeling like he has just given us permission to be happy for this day. In those early years after September 11th, I realized that there were just not enough women or Muslim women voices in the media. I decided to apply to Columbia to join the journalism school. It felt like I needed to be a voice to show that all Muslims aren't evil people. I wanted to be a woman role model. I started Columbia working full time and having my first child. Actually went into labor in class, went to the hospital that night and delivered, went back to work, continued journalism school, stayed working in tech sales and just started managing this very busy life. By the time I graduated Columbia, I was pregnant with my second child and realized that I couldn't afford to make the switch into journalism. I had kids that needed me at this point and felt I needed to put them first and make a living that could support them. So I never went into journalism. I had a third child, still stayed working full time. I had grown into somebody that I was proud of. Wes and I had made great friends. We live in a lovely town. We were living this really comfortable, full, robust, happy life. And I had reached a point where, where I was happy. Monday, May 21, 2018. Not only is it a beautiful day, it was one of those days where I woke up really feeling good. I go to my meeting. It was a full day workshop with a client. The CEO of the company actually came out to thank me for a deal I had just done in the strong partnership. It was a stellar day. After the meeting, I'm on the train, take my last call, get to my town in New Jersey and it's such a nice day that I don't call my husband right away to pick me up. Say, it's such a gorgeous day, I want to walk a few blocks, meet me here. We've lived in the town for a decade. At this point I see so many people. I know everybody's out enjoying this gorgeous spring day. And then I see my husband across the street, caddy corner from me, across from a middle school. He was at the bottom of the hill waiting for me. I walked over to the crosswalk and crossed a first crosswalk. Then I was at the second crosswalk crossing towards him maybe 10ft away from me when we saw a car turn the corner and start coming towards me. Now I'm in a crosswalk. It's 4:00 in the afternoon, full daylight. The car sees me. I yell, the car hits me but stops. I'm standing, the car is up against me and I actually had slammed my hand on the hood, but I was still standing and my husband is in the car a few feet away. Everything is in slow motion. I'm standing there and I'm thinking, I can't believe I was just hit by a car. I Am going to be black and blue. We're supposed to take the babysitter out for dinner. I'm going to be late. I'm thinking, I can't even believe she hit me today. I'm having such a great day. No panic because I'm standing. The car was stopped against me. And then all of a sudden, the driver accelerates. I went from standing to falling forward a little bit on the hood of the car and then just flying backwards onto the road. And she drove over me. My husband was still there watching, and he said it was like a monster truck driving over me. I'm screaming, he's screaming. Other people are screaming, and I'm wriggling, trying to get out from underneath the car. Then the driver reverses and drives over me a second time. As she drives over me a second time, everything goes into slow motion again because I realize that something is wrong. This is going on too long. I could hear in my husband's screams and I could hear in the other people's screams. They were watching me die. I started reflecting on my life. I started thinking about my kids. My kids were 9, 11 and 13 at the time. I didn't want them to lose a mother. But I wasn't getting out of this situation. And I thought, do they know me? Why didn't I write them letters? I traveled a lot for work, and I would get on the planes all the time and send a text, I love you. And I would think I should write them a letter just in case. But I never wrote the letters. And I thought, why didn't I write the letters? Are they going to know? Are they going to know what I wanted to tell them? What I realized is, yes, they would know because they know me. I have been present with them. They have that love. Then I realized that my kids knew how much I love them. But all the other people in my life had no idea. I realized there was a lot unsaid to all the other people that I knew that I felt so much regret for. Then all of a sudden, the car went forward and snapped me back to the moment. And it drove over me a third time. The tires had gone over my neck, over my chest, over my knees. They actually went over my head. And throughout this, I didn't feel any pain. I was so lost in thought. But then this third time, when it drove over me, I was snapped back to the moment. I could feel I was under the car and I could see, I don't know, the mufflers or the undersides. Finally, the car stopped And I was pinned underneath the car. That's when the pain started rushing in. I realized I couldn't move my body. I wiggled my fingers and my toes, thinking on tv, if you do that, it means you're not paralyzed. I had some hope as I did that. I yelled out to my husband. And I remember hearing my husband say to the driver who was screaming, having a tantrum. Don't you even care what you did? Because she didn't even look to see if I was okay or what was happening. She was just screaming, having her own tantrum. It was like a two year old screaming. I remember hearing that. I can still hear that. In fact, they had to move the driver to the side so that they could even ask me questions and hear me, because they were trying to keep me conscious when the car was over me. The third time I had my deathbed thoughts, I had resigned myself to feeling that life was over and I was actually ready to close my eyes and be done. But the people that were around the car were talking to me. It did keep me grounded. It kept me there. As the pain was rushing in, all I could feel on the right side of my face was gravel. And I didn't know if my face had been ripped off. I was laying in a pool of blood that just kept getting bigger. And I didn't know where in my head or my face all the blood was coming from. And I was just there, unable to move. All of a sudden, the me who woke up that morning, the controlling, manage it all, multitasking woman, reared her head and said to my husband, do you have my purse? Did you grab my iPhone? Then me reappeared and worried that my ass was showing to all of the firefighters and policemen in my town. I was getting worried that I lost my favorite shoe. All these things that were so ordinary and unimportant but were so common to my controlling Persona just started rushing back. I think that all of that stuff kept me a little bit grounded too, because the pain was unbearable. Maybe I was concentrating on those other things to escape from that, I don't know. But it took about 12 minutes before they could actually lift the car off of me because we were on a hill and the pedestrian crosswalk was at the bottom of this hill, they had to put airbags under the tires to lift the car off me so it didn't roll over me again. When they finally got the car off me and the emergency workers put me on a longboard, the first thing I said to them is, is my face ripped off? And they said, no, it's not ripped off. They told my husband they were taking me to the best trauma unit in the area. I said, do I really need the trauma unit? And I remember them chuckling a little bit. And that chuckle was slightly insulting, but comforting, too, because the levity in those moments kept me feeling normal. And that normal feeling would soon be very hard to find. They take me to the hospital. There's a team of doctors waiting for me. They started doing every possible test. You can imagine. After an hour and a half, the test results have come in. And miraculously, I have no broken bones. There's no skull fracture. There's no internal bleeding. My right side is raw. My skin is ripped off. You. You know, I'll need stitches all over my face. I'm a mess. But nothing was broken. As soon as the tests come back and they're done with me for a minute, I say, bring my kids in. My husband and the nurse are like, are you sure? You know, the nurse is like, maybe wait. And I said, no. I was thinking about my kids. My kids are why I survived. Like, I want to see the kids. I could think of no reason that I wouldn't want to see my kids. What I didn't know was what I looked like. My kids walked in, and it wasn't their mom there. It was just this badly battered person. My oldest, my daughter, she held it together. But my second, my son, he just started sobbing. And my youngest, who was nine, who I used to call him my cozy bunny because he would always be hugging me. I asked him to come hold my hand, and he wouldn't move. He was terrified. He didn't even want to come close to me. My daughter told me that that night she had to talk my sons in. They said, is life ever going to be the same? And she had to say to them, at 13 years old, not having any idea, yes, mom will be okay, and life will be okay. It was really heavy for them at that point. I'm thinking, nothing's broken. Maybe this isn't so bad. I tell my husband this is a Monday. I actually tell him to text my boss that I'll be back to work on Thursday because I thought, they're not admitting me into the hospital for anything. I'll go back to work in a few days. And although I was in excruciating pain and I couldn't stand and I couldn't open my eyes and I couldn't do anything, I was thinking, if nothing's broken, how bad can it be? I believed I had a strong mind and I could think my way out of it. I could be positive. And just like I transformed the first time from being insecure to building a life I liked, I could transform out of this. I was run over by a car today, but I'll navigate through it tomorrow. I kept wondering, did this really happen? Am I exaggerating it in my mind? Other people saw it, my husband witnessed it. I was conscious through the whole thing, but it didn't make any sense. I just could not grasp the journey ahead of me. I had no idea the amount of pain and discomfort and how all of the day to day functioning I was so used to would escape me. As the doctors came in and they got each test result, there were these gasps and oh my gosh, this is a miracle. And just disbelief because we all knew what happened. The car was a big suv. Even now, I can't reconcile how that car could drive over my head and neck. How could this be not be worse? We were just all relieved and in shock. And the nurses and the doctors kept saying, you must have been saved for a reason. You need to pay it forward. I remember laying there thinking, don't put this pressure on me. I can't open my eyes, I'm in excruciating pain. I don't know how to pay it forward. I can't think about paying it forward. It was actually such a weight on me because I felt like if they were saying it and that I really was this lucky that I now had this new burden when this felt pretty unlucky at that day they sent me home and you know, I say that nothing was broken, but everything was broken because the me that woke up Monday morning was nowhere to be found. All of a sudden I was laying on a couch, unable to move, unable to hug my kids, crying. I couldn't hold a coffee cup. I couldn't sit on a couch without pain because my backside was raw. Half my body was raw. In those first few days when I was home and I couldn't do anything and people wanted to help me, I was so embarrassed I couldn't do things for myself. I certainly couldn't drive. I couldn't zip a sweatshirt or actually even move my arms or my legs. I couldn't even take a shower. My daughter had to wash the blood out of my hair and that still haunts her. All the kids wanted to help and I didn't really know how to navigate any of this. The help side was really tough and I tried to be a mom, but I wasn't capable of doing Anything. And I wasn't comfortable with help because that just was not who I was. I was the person that gave the help. I was the person that juggled everything. I didn't want people to see me weak and in need. And then something impactful happened. My brother, on the night of the accident, flew out from California immediately to come be my side. I sent him home within 48 hours because I didn't want him by my side because I said I didn't need any help. He went back to California and a few days later his dog Lucy died. He just loved her so much. I felt so sad for him and all I wanted to do was help him. He would say, sister, you just got run over three times. Don't worry about me. Take care of yourself. But I wanted him to tell me something I could do to help him. It helped me start to see that the accident didn't just happen to me. It happened to my kids, it happened to my family, it happened to my friends, it happened to the community that was feeling like that could have been me in the crosswalk. All of these people that were trying to help me, me needed to help me too. I didn't know how to internalize that. I didn't know how to support that in actions or gestures. How do you let people help when you don't want to see anybody? When you're scarred and broken and can't think and can't move and all you want to do is just lay under the covers? I just remember feeling so sad and lost. Lost, confused and broken. They called it a concussion or traumatic brain injury. I had no idea what it really meant for me. Simple things were no longer easy. I remember early on, my husband asked me to fill out a camp form for my 9 year old. I laid in bed and cried in fear of having to do this camp form. I can't listen to voicemails. In those early days, somebody asking me to do something or even just call them back, it's too much responsibility. I can't make sense of these changes in my brain. But it was those small things that I was realizing, just shattered the way I operated. I just assumed that, that I would get over it, that at some point I would know that I could walk across the street and a car wasn't going to hit me. It was very hard for me to recognize that we have this autonomic nervous system that is just as influential in how we act as our brain. You can't think your way out of everything. There's some things that I Just feel. And I need my mind to acknowledge and accept. About a month or so after the impact, I was actually coming home from the courthouse where I had seen the driver. I went with my husband and my daughter, and I've got my cane and I'm bandaged up. My husband and daughter are holding me up. The driver is only a few feet away from me and doesn't acknowledge me, doesn't acknowledge any of us. I came home that day devastated. I had held no ill will for the driver. She didn't mean to run me over three times. This wasn't a hit. There was a lot of bad judgment, however, when I saw her and there was no remorse. There was just nothing. I shuddered. I came home and I started screaming at everybody. I remember going up to my room and thinking, I tried so hard to stay alive, to be their mom. And this is the mom that I am. I can't control my emotions. I can't regulate anything right now. But I kept saying, I'll get through it. I don't need the help. But I did need the help. And it's actually the day I called my doctor and went on antidepressants and anti anxiety. The driver didn't mean to run over me three times. It wasn't a hit. She's never said anything. She's never acknowledged the accident. So I don't know why she ran over me three times. Obviously a lot of bad judgment, but I have some theories. When she first hit me, somebody said she may have been on her phone. Maybe that's why she didn't stop earlier. But she first hit me. She stopped and then she accelerated. And I think she accelerated to flee the scene. She didn't really have car insurance. I think the second time she reversed over me to get back down to the pedestrian crosswalk where she hit me because there were so many witnesses. The third time, she was probably trying to get off me. That's my guess. I really have no idea why she did it. We actually saw the driver a couple of years after the accident. Our insurance was deposing us and deposing her. And even then, there was no empathy or apology. I actually was going around introducing myself to everyone in the room. I wasn't expecting her to be there. And when I saw her, I introduced myself to her and I shook her hand. And I remember thinking, like, just give me some sign. Maybe your lawyer said you can't apologize, but maybe you could squeeze my hand or the way you look in my eyes or something. And I got nothing.

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I wanted my kids to feel that life was going to be normal. One of my kids was worried about spending money on anything because I wasn't working. The kids were so aware of the changes can we keep living the life we're used to? And I needed them to see that we can, that we were moving forward. So against all advice, I went back to work and I decided that I was not going to hide my scars. I'm going to show my scars. I'm going to show who I am. This new me. I even put gold glitter because I had scars all over my face instead of concealer to hide them. I was embracing this new enlighten me. But the enlighten me didn't last. I just thought that my mind would still work mostly like it did before. I had a really strong mind. I had two master's degrees. I was a good person, problem solver. I read a lot. I worked hard to have a positive attitude and a strong mind. And I thought that I could think my way back to the person that I was, but I just couldn't. And I was so worried about, you know, if my colleagues were going to trust me. I mean, how was I ever going to be good at my job if I can't show up and I can't problem solve and I can't think what I realized is that nobody was judging me if I couldn't stay awake all day. Once I admitted that my colleagues were maybe reserving a conference room for me to take a nap, they were supportive. But I really struggled for a long time with how will I be successful if I can't be me? What I didn't expect was that as I was making these relationships stronger through the sharing and the vulnerability vulnerability, I was enabling a culture where we were solving harder problems, where we may not have been multitasking a hundred things, but when we were going deep on three or four, we were making just as much impact. I wasn't the same person. I don't think the same way. But I found new strengths, and I also had to recognize those strengths. Where I would initially think, I can't do that. I realized I had to reframe to I can do this now. And as I started to speak differently about myself, but also created an environment that, again, didn't look at me as broken or less than. It was just a new, different me. My husband and my doctors convinced me to see a trauma therapist. And that trauma therapist taught me about the art and philosophy of kintsugi. Kintsugi is this old Japanese art form of taking a broken piece of pottery and not just gluing it back together so the breaks are hidden, but actually gluing it back together with the gold inlay so you accentuate the breaks so you appreciate the breaks and the cracks in the journey. You think about the vase as more beautiful for having been through that journey. That concept really helped me move forward because it gave me a way to think about my accident and my issues and challenges, not as a victim, but as this is part of my journey. That simple reframing made me more comfortable sharing my struggles. It opened the door for me to let people in and help. As I started sharing my journey, people were sharing things back. People I had known for years. Picking up the kids at school or maybe at the soccer sidelines. I really didn't know that well, because who shares their struggles? It's not what we're used to as a society. The projection that I worked so hard to have, where I multitask, I did it all. I made it look easy, and I didn't ask for help. Now I was letting people in, and I was sharing what was going on with me, and then they were sharing what was going on with them. So these relationships got so much deeper and stronger and more rewarding. All of a sudden, I had a much richer community in my life. As I started to get to know the people in my life a little bit better. I also got a little more insight into what they thought of this former me that was the master juggler. Making it all look easy, working out before pickup and juggling the job, the house and the sweet kids. All of those things that I was so proud of doing and doing without asking for help also made me seem like a person that wasn't approachable. In fact, somebody said to me, you were an unsympathetic character before the accident. I never would have guessed that because I. I was so insecure. I did go through so many struggles. I worked so hard to become a person that could juggle this life and be happy in it. That I didn't realize by only showing that side of me that I was alienating or I was not welcoming and not being authentic and something that I look at as a gift in the way that I've changed after the accident. Everybody goes through something. We're not alone in facing a struggle. There's stuff that's making our day hard, stuff that we can share and help each other with. I apply this to the way I think about the driver and also the way I think about other people that maybe didn't show up for me after the accident, the way I had expected. What I realized is that we all have these complex universes of experience in our lives. We don't know what triggers each other. Some people probably couldn't show up for me after the accident because maybe they couldn't see me broken. Maybe they couldn't see all the scars on my face. Maybe it reminded of something and their self defense mechanism is staying away. I apply that same idea to the driver. Maybe it's the self preservation. She can't fathom or believe that she did this and so she has to just not acknowledge it. We all protect ourselves in different ways. That is a kindness to them acknowledging that, but it's also a kindness to me because I don't want to hold, hold that weight. I don't want to hold those negative thoughts. I don't want to discount or lose all the happy memories I may have had with somebody because they didn't show up for me at the accident the way I expected them to. That's my self preservation. Sometimes I just feel like, did it really happen? Nobody looks at me and can see it. I got my limbs, I'm walking. I mean, my brain is different, but outwardly nobody can see what I've been through. I struggle with that sometimes and I question how Impactful the accident really was. In those first months, I couldn't walk. I was having physical therapy in the house because I couldn't even really leave the house. But we started celebrating. Each time I could do something, I could say to a friend, guess what? I held a coffee cup today. Guess what? I washed my hair. And we could celebrate. And that gave us hope. We decided that we were going to make the day of the accident a holiday and celebrate that I survived. Not that I almost died, but that I survived. That I'm like a superhero. I got run over three times and lived. So we call the anniversary of the accident Unbreakable Day. We had a party and we thanked all of the people that helped us and supported us. We use it as a moment to thank ourselves. We did it and we learned from it. And it gave us a way to continue to talk about it, but take it back and change the narrative. Now, every year on May 21, we celebrate Unbreakable Day. Recently, someone asked me to do a trajectory of my life and put the positive things on the top of the line and the negative things on the bottom of the line. I put this accident on the top of the line because I feel so lucky for what I have learned, for those last moment relations, reflections. For being more appreciative and knowing how much I want to tell the people in my life that they've brought me joy. That appreciation holds to strangers too. When someone opens the door or they want to talk to you in line. Those connections are so important. Those small acts of kindness and appreciation have such an outsized impact. Quite often, whether it's our body language or the words we choose or a smile on our face when we emit a positive energy, we help build joy. And that doesn't mean things aren't bad. But even in those tough moments, do you bring more good than bad? Do you choose words that have hope? Those little things, although you might just think they're about you and your day, that energy travels and that energy gives people hope. That energy breeds more good energy. Even in the most hopeless moments and even for the most hopeless cases, life can change. We can change our story. I also realized as I started to share more lessons that year, that the things that I had learned and the things that I could share could be of value to a broader population. And maybe some of what I navigated could help. That's when I decided to start writing about it. I started writing a memoir. I sat self published. I never tried to get a publisher thinking. As long as I've written something that my kids aren't embarrassed about. I'm willing to put this out, but had no expectation that anyone would read it. It's one of those things. If I can help one or two people, at least I've put it out there, I've paid it forward, I've done my part. What was pretty amazing and heartwarming was before the book came out, I had given an early copy to a friend's daughter who also has a traumatic brain injury. She was 20 at the time, had dropped out of college for the year because she could not function. She read the book and said to me for the first time since my accident, I have felt normal. I felt like I might not be the person that I was before, but that's okay and I'm going to celebrate my anniversary as my unbreakable day. She took it back. So many people have said that to me now. It's been a really nice surprise. The book came out about two years ago now. It's actually won awards as a self help book, one of Book of the Year. But even more than that, when I share the story and then people share their stories, the most valuable lessons that I think I've learned and that other people have said has helped them is recognizing we control our own story. We choose the words that we use to talk about what happened. We choose whether we're talk about it as a victim or as part of our journey. We choose whether it's going to be a happy story and we're going to going to call it our unbreakable day or we say it's the worst day of our life. We make all of those choices and by making those choices we take the control back from some very tough moments and we give ourselves the grace to be okay and to move forward.

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Today's episode featured Nassim Ra. If you'd like to reach out to her, you can find her email, socials and website in the Show Notes. Nassim has authored a book entitled the Unexpected Benefits of Being Run over, available from Amazon where books are sold. A link is in the show Notes. From Wondery. You're listening to this is actually happening. If you love what we do, please rate and review the show. You can subscribe on Apple Podcasts, Amazon Music or on the Wondery app to listen ad free and get access to the entire back catalog. In the Episode Notes you'll find some links and offers from our sponsors. By supporting them, you help us bring you our show for free. I'm your host Wit Misseldine. Today's episode was co produced by me, Andrew Waits and Sarah Marinelli, with special thanks to the this Is Actually Happening team including Ellen Westberg. The opening music features the song Sleep Paralysis by Scott Velasquez. You can join the community on the this Is Actually Happening discussion group on Facebook or follow us on Instagram Actually Happening on the show's website thisisactually happening.com you can find out more about the podcast. Contact us with any questions, submit your own story or visit the store where you can find this Is Actually Happening designs on stickers, T shirts, wall art, hoodies and more. That's thisisactually happening.com and finally, if you'd like to become an ongoing supporter of what we do, go to patreon.com happening. Even 2 to $5 a month goes a long way to support our vision. Thank you for listening. If you like this Is Actually Happening you can listen to every episode ad free right now by joining Wondery plus in the Wondery app or on Apple Podcasts. Prime. Members can listen ad free on Amazon Music. Before you go, tell us about yourself by filling out a short [e-mail] survey.

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Scary Story time. The joys of analog media. Be kind. Rewind. Never mind. You're here for this special collection. Welcome to Radio Rental. The scariest stories you've ever heard in your life, all told by real people. Oh, and off we go.

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All I could see was the devil's mask he was wearing. This wasn't a human being that I saw. There's something here in this house, something.

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Out of this world.

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There was a woman moving through the hall. I stepped back and I was completely alone in the hallway.

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