Brea Lopez was racing her Quarter Midget car in Indiana when she broke her hand. Two days later she taped that shattered hand to the wheel of her race car, competed and won her first race. She was 15.

A few years later Brea was racing her USAC Midget car at South Sound Speedway in Rochester, WA. Her car touched another car. She hit the wall, tumbled through the air and landed outside the track boundary. Her car was totaled; the back of her helmet cracked. She was rushed to a hospital in Olympia for an MRI—walking away with some bruises and a big headache. She was 17. But within four weeks, Brea was behind the wheel again.

Imagine reinventing yourself at 40-something. Many women have, and others will be faced with this challenge in their lives. Though for many, it can be a difficult time, but it can also be a time of transition and discovery. Cheryl Selby, a newly single mother of two teenage daughters who looked up to her for inspiration, was grasping for ways to cope. She knew she must face her fears, get through an extremely tough time and model strength and grace in the process.

Take an event—Hurricane Katrina—add dashes of moments from the news media for months on end, expose them to a Louisiana-born woman living in Tacoma, Rosalind Bell and you have the makings of a play, “The New Orleans Monologues.” Sound like a recipe? It is. The American Heritage Dictionary’s definition for recipe is, “A set of directions with a list of ingredients for making or preparing something.” Although what happened—or because of what didn’t happen in New Orleans— was a recipe for disaster, Rosalind took the tragedy far beyond what was seen on television and printed in the newspapers.

The day was cold and wet as I drove to Brita Long’s legal office. Anticipating dark wood paneling, walls covered from floor to ceiling with leather bound books and plush maroon or hunter green carpet; I was hoping that there would be enough light for me to see the lines on my notepad.

"Do you know the controversy surrounding me?" Margaret replied when I asked to interview her. "Yes," I explained, "but this article is about you." "All right," she said. "Would you like tea or coffee when you arrive?" I replied with a laugh, "Suprise me." Little did I know that no truer words had been spoken. 'Suprise me' is exactly what Margaret Starbird did. I went to discover her truths, and found myself looking at my own. And the infamous controversy had little to do with it.