What courage feels like in a room

This week, I had the privilege of attending a book event in Toronto featuring Gisèle Pelicot. I want to be very mindful in how I share this. There is a weight to her story that deserves respect, not retelling. So I won’t go into details here. I invite you to look it up or, better yet, to read her book, A Hymn to Life: Shame Has to Change Sides. But I do want to share what it felt like to be in that room.

When she walked onto the stage, the entire audience rose to their feet. Not just politely, but fully and deeply. An extended, thunderous standing ovation that seemed to wrap around her, lift her up, and carry us all with it.

It wasn’t just applause. It was recognition. It was solidarity. It felt like something more. Deep, deep respect.

From where I sat in the second row, I could see her clearly.

She received it all with such presence. Composed. Grounded. Steady.

You could see she was moved, but not shaken. There was a strength in her stillness. An elegance. A calm that held the entire room without asking for anything.

And when she spoke, it was measured. Thoughtful. Clear.

There was no performance in it. Just truth. And at times a beautiful, unexpected humour.

What stayed with me most was not only her words, but her way of being. The quiet, undeniable power of someone who has chosen courage. Someone who has refused to carry shame that was never hers to hold.

Her message that shame must change sides landed differently hearing it from her. Not as a phrase, but as something lived. Something embodied.

And perhaps what moved me just as deeply was witnessing what happens when someone stands fully in their truth and is met with overwhelming support.

It made me reflect.

How often do we underestimate the impact of our courage?

How often do we carry things quietly that were never ours to carry?

And how powerful is it when even one person chooses to stand, to speak, or simply not to hide?

If there is one takeaway I would offer, it is this.

There is strength in truth.
There is dignity in choosing not to carry misplaced shame.
And there is something profoundly healing that happens when courage is met with community.

We may not all be called to stand on a stage.

But each of us, in our own way, is invited to live a little more honestly. A little more bravely. A little more free.

And perhaps, to be part of creating spaces where others can do the same.

With respect,
Tamara