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I'll Be Her


Pride truly cometh before the fall.

 

I would have preferred to keep my pride and avoid the fall. But, alas, on October 10, 2024, I fell on stage in front of Kate Bowler.

 

Kate Bowler, the famous podcaster, NYT bestselling author, Duke professor, and the attention of my hardcore adoration. The one who interviewed the famed Coach K just days after our Fargo Humanities event and later had a photo with Jerry Seinfeld on her Instagram. Yes, that Kate Bowler.

 

And I didn’t just fall. Falling is awkwardly landing or a misstep. I totaled out.

If you really listened over the (insert your own gasp here) from the front rows and my loud thud, you probably could have heard the Wipeout drum solo in the background. But it was hard for me to overcome the voice in my head that said mid-sail, This cannot be happening!, and the ringing in my ears that said, That’s going to leave a mark!

 

It hurt. So much. Physically. It was an absolute miracle that I didn’t break a bone, surely my wrists I landed on, or dislocate my right shoulder as hard as I jarred it. It is no joke that I just received my yearly IV treatment for my bad bones that were damaged in my steroid eat-a-thon through AE and (presumably) a lifetime of untreated Celiac disease until Mayo finally caught it. And when I last took a hard fall, I was tripped in an intramural basketball game, my shoulder dislocated… the last before my grand mal seizure.

 

I also have a lot of serious inflammation in my bod and a ton of chronic pain. Most days, I feel like an 89 year old.

 

It really hurt my knees which took the brunt of the multiple landings (I skipped across the stage like a rock on water) and my neck. It was miserable to wake up the next day, and quite a few thereafter, and feel my upper thoracic, which only reminded my heart and stomach: I fell onstage. In front of Kate. And roughly 350 people. Not to mention the other hundreds online and at a watch party.

 

Much of the pain was mental. I walked away with my knees and ego bruised.

 

Months ago, I was asked to emcee the event, and I couldn’t contain my excitement. Being a devoted Kate acolyte, I had anticipated the event for a year. Once I found out I was going to help in the show, I was all in. As I always am. And was amped up, as I too often can get.

Kate was as beautiful, wonderful, and lovely as I envisioned. Not meeting your heroes is garbage on this one, because she was exactly as I assumed she would be. She’s just so damn cool. And wise. And witty. When she arrived, I met her (and her lovely bff Carolyn) in her greenroom and gave her a small gift bag I’d put together for her. When they told Kate I was the emcee, she jokingly asked if I’d be dancing on stage, and true to form, I told her I’d already done a little light tapdancing (always the comedian, when with the Humanities staff and AV people pre-show, I did some faux tapping while testing mics). Then we took the most beautiful and cherished photograph together – laughing as she told me she can sing “Tiny Dancer.”


And then it was showtime.

I introduced Kate in what I hoped was a very meaningful way. We hugged it out as I exited stage. Kate then gave a beautiful talk. It was moving, funny, emotional, and honest. And then it was my turn to get back on stage.

Kate was trying to tell me she may have shut the mic off, but I incorrectly believed that AV controlled it from the rafters, and it would be fine. I told her all was well and embarked upon my ascent up… two stairs.

Now back to the fall.

 

I’ve often spoken on stage. And each time, I’m quite sure I’ve done this: jog up the stairs. Maybe I’m on a quest to convince (myself?) (others?) that I’m still an athlete, just a broken and chronically ill one, or maybe it’s unconscious. But I trot.

 

Notwithstanding all the feedback I’ve now received about how it’s most people’s fear that they’ll fall when speaking, I had honestly never thought about it.

 

I left Kate at stage right and trotted up the (uneven) stairs. Was it the second stair or the rug taped down on the stage and my rubber soles? I don’t know. It all happened so fast as things like these do, but I went flying. I only remember: the sounds of my no no no pulsing thought, the loud thud, and the gasps. How bad both my knees hurt. Bracing with my wrists, pushing off them, and quickly hopping back up. Kate’s face, and me saying, “I’m fine. It’s fine.”

I walked to the podium and tried to start speaking again like all was fine. I desperately tried not to look at all the faces that I believed were awkwardly staring at me. I was mortified. And then the mic wasn’t working. I was looking at the AV crew, but Kate motioned to me that she had turned it off. I was frazzled.


Once the mic was on, I made a few, “Ha ha, what was that?,” comments, and moved the show along to the “Brave Conversations.” I then slowly exited stage right and stood by Sue, my dear friend, and Humanities bigshot. I don’t remember what she said, but I told her I fell. She hadn’t seen it, even though I believed the entire universe had.

 

I went back to the “head table,” to sit with Kate, her friend, the event’s sponsor, Chuck, Trygve, a veteran running for Congress, a nice professor at NDSU, and a businesswoman I know from Bismarck. Everyone began conversing, but I wanted to start crying and run away to call Sean. I remember Trygve alluding to an old injury of his and tying it to Kate’s talk and I loudly interjected, “But did you just fall on stage in front of everyone?” I had already started beating the heck out of myself internally, so I felt the need to bring it up and out for the others. Everyone asked if I was OK and I assured them that I was, although I was still wondering whether I was actually hurt. My mind was racing. My heart thumping. And I was spiraling.

 

All I could think of was what I would say on stage next. I had to do damage control. I had to prove I wasn’t a klutz. Spiral.

 

Everyone at the table kept talking as I was stuck in my loop. I wanted to loudly proclaim that I was the state free throw champion and that I had a black belt!! Spiraling.

 

And then my eyes begin to well.

 

In that moment, I gave myself options: You can leave and call your husband and mother to tell them that you’re an embarrassment. And cry. Or you can stop the anxiety-spin right now. And not waste this precious little bit of time you have to literally sit at the table with Kate Bowler and participate.

 

You need to rally, Jackie.

 

In that moment, I really wish I could have believed that many people didn’t see it, and that even if they did, they had probably done it or had watched J-Lo fall getting an Oscar. I really wish I could have allowed myself to be human. But contrary to Taylor Swift’s advice, I’ve never been good at shaking it off.

 

Although I was thoroughly convinced that I was a complete jackass, I was determined not to lose time with Kate and the lovely group. So I started by asking Kate about her tattoo and then went right back to my usual chatty self.

 

As I took the stage again, I made a joke as I walked up the stairs, “Step-1, Step-2,” but recognized there was no need to draw any more attention to it. And I kept going.

 

When I exited, Sue grabbed my hands, looked me dead in the eye, and said, “Kate Bowler helped pick you up.” I shook my head in disbelief. She said, “She did, Jackie.” And looked at me with a fully wide-eyed smile. The whole night had felt really rushed and I had put a lot of (needless) pressure on myself. But in that moment, time slowed down, and I let the feeling sink in.

 

The event concluded and I witnessed Kate say it was one of the best she’d ever had! (Way to go Humanities ND!) But I had rallied for long enough. I wanted out of there. It felt like the year of anticipation and all the work I’d put into the night, had turned on me. And I was embarrassed, which I can’t lie, is an unusual emotion for me.

 

Lacie, my bff for life, my ride or die, met me at the head table. And I mumbled to her, “Get me out of here. Now. I don’t want to speak to anyone.” She told me it wasn’t a big deal at all and managed to say, much to my dismay, “Jackie, it humanized you.” My friend Rachel’s stepdad, Eric, was there and gave me a Live Like Rach shirt to get to Kate. I could hardly speak to him. I grabbed Lacie and she hustled with me to the greenroom.


I ditched my jacket. Started pacing. And unloaded on Lacie, who once again tried to calm me down. I got to see Kate and Carolyn once more, gave a few more hugs, and posed for one more prized photo.

It was all over just like that.

 

And I was back to being frazzled. All I wanted to do was go to my car and call Sean and my mom, on a joint call, so they could hear my embarrassment together and I could shame myself. But before I could get there, the head of AV broke the ice when she loudly said, “Nice fall.” And then a few others gently chided, but I wasn’t quite ready to laugh.

 

I left and placed that call. My first words were, “I fucking fell on stage in front of Kate Bowler. And everyone.” Sean quietly reassured me that it happens. They both tried. But I was spitting venom.

 

I drove back to my hotel and regrouped with many of the Humanities people and their spouses, all dear friends. I told myself to leave it alone, but my genetics of loud storytelling kept winning out, and I kept reliving it. “Iggy Ignoramus” our famous Humanities character and local Lutheran pastor, hadn’t seen the wipeout, but clearly sensed my humiliation. So he started doing a very loud and uncanny impersonation of Chris Farley as the motivational speaker, Matt Foley. One of my favorites. And it made me laugh so hard.

We all walked to a late dinner and had the best time. Iggy sat on my right and kept up the jokes. Lacie sat to my left and listened to me like she has for roughly forty years. And everyone around the table regaled one another with their “fall story.” Kris’s heel caught on her purse and she “supermaned” in a dress at a black-tie event. Tom fell on a “twig” while running and had to go to Urgent Care. We laughed and laughed. And we all left exhausted.

 

I went to bed thinking, had I just not fallen, the night would have been perfect. And I kept shuttering at Lacie’s words, “Jackie, it humanized you.”


By the next morning, through my sore neck and body, and creeping gratefulness that I wasn’t hurt, the irony finally set in. I was at the Kate Bowler “No Cure For Being Human” event. Her red thread is that being human is a chronic condition. She’s also authored the “Have a Beautiful, Terrible Day,” book. And I completely identify with all her content. Yet I was stuck in my old ways of an impossible perfectionist mindset and was being too hard on myself.

 

Honestly, Jackie. When will I ever learn?

 

I am human. I say and do a lot of stupid things. Yes, I’ve always been athletic and am not known for spazzing out, but I did. It happened. Most people in the room actually didn’t see it and those who did only worried about me being hurt. I wasn’t ridiculed. And Lacie was right about it adding to my charm. It’s actually called the “pratfall effect.”

 

I have high functioning, albeit serious anxiety. My illness taxed my brain and emotions. I can mentally spiral out of control quite quickly. I’m tightly wound for results and competition to a fault. But I’m proud of myself for soldiering on. I let myself spin for a few minutes and then I rallied.

 

And in my counseling session days after the event, with Dr. Nev’s help and encouragement, I finally allowed myself to laugh about it. So much so, that Sean and I added music to the footage and shared the video. I now find it overly hilarious, and only a tad mortifying.

 

My humanness allows me to be a work in progress. And in hindsight, the night was full of important life tenants:

 

Faith. Before the show, people kept asking me if I heard Ricky’s prayer for me. I had no idea what they were talking about, until Lacie informed me that Ricky, a friend of the event sponsor and a Humanities lecturer on Native American culture, had given a beautiful invocation and prayed for me. I was able to thank him before the fall, but was sad I missed his words. I genuinely believe the only reason I wasn’t hurt was because of Ricky.

 

Keep the faith in yourself, humanity, and others. It’s powerful.

 

Laugh. Earlier that evening, I admitted to Lacie that I was pretty amped up, and she told me, “You’re really good at self-deprecating humor. If something goes wrong, you’ll know how to laugh it off.” She’s so wise. (And what an eerie premonition.)


Laugh all the time. Uncontrollably when necessary, and especially when it hurts.

 

Humility. To alleviate my nerves leading up to the event, I repeatedly reminded myself that no one was there to see me and any screwups didn’t matter. The fall was neither the end of my world nor anyone else’s.

 

Get out of your own head. Step back and see the big picture.

 

Humanity. Kate’s right, we’re all human and it’s hard. Like cancer, autoimmune encephalitis, and being mortified at yourself. But on the flipside, I learned while watching the video that Kate really did help me up. Not only that, she rushed the stage for me! That’s what a genuine human she is. I’ll never forget Sue grabbing my hands to tell me or knowing that Kate did that for me. (She also gave me a shout in her Instagram post and I’m pretty sure I’ll copy it and frame it for multiple locations.)

 

Always be kind. Even to complete strangers, because it makes the world better.

 

Just Keep Swimming. Sometimes people hurt us or an illness wrecks our lives. Bad things happen to good people. Shit happens. Sometimes we biff it on stage in front of our idol. But no matter what, we need to keep swimming. Have a moment and then get back on stage. The show must go on, so you may as well go with it.

 

Just Keep Swimming! Tattoo it on your forearm.

 

Friendship. I was so thankful for the friends who surrounded me and lifted me up after the show. I wouldn’t have made it through the evening without them.

 

Cherish true friends. They pull you through the tough stuff.

 

Family. Your family always loves you. Even when you can be a little hard to love. Remember that next time you’re a bit unforgiving of them.

 

Strive for love, patience, and forgiveness.

 

Exercise. No matter how much your health hobbles you, do what you can. You’ll be surprised at how hard your body works for you. And how you can pop up like an inflatable clown with adrenaline and shame!

 

Be kind to your body. It’s all you have.

 

Gratitude. Thanks to everyone who made the event possible, to Kate and Carolyn for coming to Fargo, to Humanities ND being awesome, to the event’s guests, to Ricky, and to everyone who helped me during and after.

 

The night really was perfect. I’ll be thankful for it forever.

 

Thanks for laughing with me, JM Stebbins friends. You’re a big part of the reason I find the stamina to stay afloat.

 

Luv,

 

jackie

 

(You can watch the video on TikTok here, Facebook here, and on YouTube here.)

 “But I still dream sometimes

Wonder what it's like


“When the fear is gone

And I open up the cage

When I finally jump

And stop waitin’ to be saved

I’d be bulletproof

Let it ricochet

Ooh

I’ll be her someday

Ooh

I'll get out my way

Ooh

I’ll be her someday” ~ I’ll Be Her by Rachel Platten

 

Photo Cred: Photo of JMS and Kate Bowler, by Sue; Group photo, by Bre; Photo of Kate speaking, by JMS; JMS speaking, by Humanities photographer; all other photos, by Lacie (except for the stills from the video, that's my doing).

__________

 

/ / The JM Stebbins blog is an autoimmune encephalitis blog from former lawyer and autoimmune encephalitis survivor, Jackie M. Stebbins.


Jackie M. Stebbins is also the author of Unwillable: A Journey to Reclaim my Brain, a book about autoimmune encephalitis, resilience, hope, and survival. / /

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