By Stacey Chillemi | Award-Winning Podcast Host | 20x Bestselling Author | Founder, Advisor Global Media™
I want to tell you about a sidewalk.
Not a famous one. Not one anyone would have reason to remember except me. Just an ordinary stretch of pavement outside a building in Midtown Manhattan — the kind you walk past a hundred times without noticing.
I noticed it.
Because the day I stood on that sidewalk with nothing — no job, no dignity, no roadmap for what came next — was the day I made myself a promise that changed the rest of my life.
This is the story I have never fully told.
The Day It Happened
I had lived with epilepsy since the age of five. If you want to read the full story of how it began you can find it in Part 1 of my series From Seizures to Success right here on this website.
What I want to tell you about today happened years later.
I was working in New York City for one of the most recognized names in television. The kind of job that felt like proof — proof that epilepsy had not won, that the years of seizures and lost licenses and quiet daily struggle had not defined the ceiling of what I could build.
Every morning I walked through those doors I felt something I had spent years chasing.
Normal. Capable. Seen.
And then one ordinary afternoon — without warning — my body did what it sometimes did.
I collapsed on the office floor.
I want to be very clear about what that looked like — because the detail matters.
I was conscious. Fully aware of everything around me. But frozen — completely unable to move, unable to speak, unable to do anything except lie there on that floor while life continued around me.
And in that state of complete helplessness a colleague walked past. Looked down at me. Stepped over my body like I was an obstacle in the aisle. And kept walking.
Thirty minutes later I was released from my position.
I walked out of that building and stood on the sidewalk outside.
What That Sequence Cost Me
I want to be honest about what that experience did to me.
I saw everything.
I saw the colleague look down at me. I saw the moment he registered what he was looking at. And I saw him make his decision — to keep walking — while I lay there on that floor completely unable to say a single word.
That is the part that hollowed me out most. Not the seizure itself. But being fully present — fully aware — while someone chose to step over me as though I were not a person worth stopping for.
And then thirty minutes later the door closed behind me.
That sequence — seen, stepped over, released — all within the same afternoon — is something I have spent years finding the right words to describe.
Thirty minutes is enough time to understand exactly what is happening.
Thirty minutes is enough time to feel the door closing before it closes.
And there was nothing I could do — lying there on that floor, unable to speak — to stop any of it.
The Sidewalk
I walked out of that building and stood on the sidewalk outside.
I do not know exactly how long I stood there. The city kept moving around me the way cities do — completely unaware that something had just shifted in one woman standing still on an ordinary piece of pavement.
And somewhere in that stillness something formed in the deepest part of who I was.
I am going to make a difference in this world.
Not out of anger — though the anger was real. Not to prove something to the person who had stepped over me. But out of the sudden and unshakeable understanding that what had just happened to me was happening to people everywhere. People who were losing jobs and opportunities and their sense of worth not because of anything they had done wrong — but because of a medical condition they had never chosen and could not control.
Someone needed to say something about that.
I decided it would be me.
Washington D.C.
The Epilepsy Foundation heard my story and asked me to come to Washington D.C.
So I went.
I stood in a room I had never imagined standing in — and I told the truth about what it feels like to live with epilepsy in a world that does not always make room for it. I described lying on that office floor — conscious, frozen, unable to move or speak — watching a colleague step over me and keep walking. I told them about the thirty minutes. I told them what that sequence of events costs a person. What it takes from them in dignity, in opportunity, in the quiet daily courage it takes to keep showing up after something like that.
In the front row sat Congressman Rush Holt of New Jersey.
I watched him take out a handkerchief and wipe the tears from his eyes.
When it was over he came to find me. He shook my hand and told me that his own sister had lived with epilepsy. That what I had said that day mattered.
Not long after that testimony stronger protections became law — so that no one could be pushed out of a job simply for having a disability.
What One Voice Can Do
I have thought about that sidewalk many times over the years. About how close I came to just going home and staying quiet. About how the easiest thing would have been to let the thirty minutes be the end of the story.
And I think about what would not exist today if I had done that.
The podcast reaching 1.3 million listeners. The twenty bestselling books. The thousands of people who have written to tell me that something I created found them in a dark moment and helped them through it.
All of it traces back to a sidewalk.
And a promise nobody witnessed.
One voice — telling one true story, in the right room, at the right moment — can reach all the way from a sidewalk in Manhattan to the floor of Congress.
Not a perfect voice. Not a polished voice. Just an honest one.
That is all it took. And that is all it ever takes.
What This Means for You
Whatever floor you have been left on.
Whatever thirty minutes changed everything for you.
Whatever sidewalk you are standing on right now.
The people who stepped over you have absolutely no idea what they are setting in motion. They do not know that their indifference is going to light something inside you that burns for decades. They do not know that the floor they left you on is going to become the foundation of something they could never have imagined.
Make the promise.
Keep it.
The world is waiting for what comes next.
Read the complete From Seizures to Success series: Part 1 — The Teardrop That Saved My Life Part 2 — The Colleague Who Stepped Over Me Part 3 — The Shoebox Full of Letters Part 4 — How Nature Healed What Medicine Couldn’t Part 5 — Why I Built a Platform for 1.3 Million People
If this story resonated with you I would love to help you share yours. Every expert, coach, author and entrepreneur has a message the world needs to hear — and I have spent thirty years helping people find the platform to share it.
Book a Free Strategy Call at calendly.com/
Stacey Chillemi is an award-winning podcast host, 20-time bestselling author, epilepsy advocate, and founder of Advisor Global Media™. Featured on ABC, NBC, CBS, and five times on The Dr. Oz Show. Her podcast reaches 1.3M+ listeners worldwide and won the NYC Podcast Award for Best Host.
Explore how we can work together: staceychillemi.com/work-with-











