From Crisis to Breakthrough

What It Takes to Be Great in Life: Part 1

You’ve probably been there—feeling like you have something more significant to accomplish in your life, a purpose that drives you, something you know you're meant to do.

But instead of acting, you wait for the right moment to pursue it.

You tell yourself:

“Once things calm down, I’ll finally focus.”

We tell ourselves that if we can get through this rough patch, then everything will fall into place.

But the truth is, life rarely goes according to plan.

Just when you think you're ready to move forward, another challenge comes along to knock you off course.

This isn’t just something I’ve observed—it’s exactly what happened to me.

But instead of letting each challenge break me, I persisted with faith, knowing that no matter how much pain or adversity came my way, the universe operated with a law of polarity.

For every setback, there’s an equal opportunity for growth.

I held on, believing that the light would eventually come if I pushed through the darkness.

And just when I thought I was seeing the other side of that struggle—receiving an email that marked a major milestone—the universe wasn’t done with me yet...

"This email marks the official acceptance of the manuscript for Nate Ortiz's The You You Never Knew. Nate, thank you again for all your hard work here—I think the final product looks so great, and I can't wait for readers to get the book in hand."

After months of pushing through, my agent, Coleen, followed up with:

"Hi Nate, such a great response from the publisher. I know this wasn’t an easy process, but worth it, I hope!"

Coleen was right. It wasn’t easy. Not because the publisher denied my manuscript five times, but because everything around me was chaotic.

In other words, everything that could go wrong during this process—went wrong.

As I sat reading both emails, trying my best to feel excited, my phone rang.

I glanced down. It was my little brother, Brandon. I took a deep breath, bracing myself. I assumed it was more news about my mother, who had been in and out of the hospital so frequently this year that I’d lost count.

But this time, I was wrong.

"What’s up, B?" I asked, holding my breath.

"Dad was just rushed to the hospital. Daren found him in his room, struggling to breathe. When he tried asking him questions, Dad wouldn’t respond," Brandon said, his voice tight, doing his best to keep it together.

A wave of negative thoughts crashed into me, heating my skin as my heart began to race.

"Okay, I'll meet you at the hospital."

I set the phone down and took a moment to gather myself. Instead of letting the stress overwhelm me, I returned to my computer and responded to Coleen.

I typed out words that reflected not just what this process had taught me, but what my entire life has shown me:

"Everything I've earned in life wasn't easy, but it's all paid off. Now it's time for me to do my best to share this project with the world."

I hit send, grabbed my keys, and rushed out the door.

A Familiar Scene in the Emergency Room

Jersey City Medical Center, where countless family emergencies have unfolded, each visit filled with uncertainty and hope—this time, another crisis awaited.

When I arrived at the hospital, the emergency room was packed. The buzz of worried voices and beeping machines filled the air as I searched for the check-in line, standing on my toes to get a better view.

Suddenly, I heard someone call out, "Hey!"

I turned to see a familiar police officer stationed by the entrance to the patient area waving me over. As I walked toward him, the sound of my heartbeat pounded in my ears like I had headphones on, amplifying the tension in my chest.

"You're good to go in," he said, waving me through.

At first, I was confused about why he let me skip the line.

Then it clicked.

The officer had seen me so often that year that he didn’t need to ask why I was there. I had become a regular—part of the scenery, another face among the never-ending emergency room crisis.

I hurried past, rushing door to door, glancing into rooms where sick and injured patients lay with their worried families by their sides.

Each room I peeked into intensified the fear gnawing at me—the fear that I would stumble upon the same scene I’d faced back in March, the day I got that call about my mother.

That memory flooded back: finding her in the room, head split open, face swollen, the overwhelming smell of blood and feces filling the air.

When a person dies, their muscles loosen, releasing whatever strain remains. As I entered the room that day, I thought my mother was dead—her body still and chest unmoving. For the first ten seconds, it felt like the truth.

I snapped out of that haunting memory just as I heard a voice behind me.

"I know that’s not Nate the Great!"

I turned around to see Cassie, an old high school classmate I hadn’t seen since 2012. Her face lit up with a big smile, but my body language didn’t match her enthusiasm.

"What’s up, Cassie? Did you see my brother? My father was just rushed in."

Her smile faded as she immediately turned to her computer, her fingers flying over the keyboard.

"What’s your father's last name?" she asked, her voice now serious.

"Turner," I replied quickly.

"Room... got it. Come with me!" she said, her urgency mirroring mine.

We rushed through the halls, taking sharp turns as I followed her lead. When we made a left, I spotted my younger brothers, Brandon and Daren, in my peripheral vision.

My eyes then locked onto my father—lying still, eyes closed, surrounded by machines, cables snaking from the monitors into his body.

I slowed my pace, took a deep breath, and walked cautiously toward him. The beeping from the machines grew louder in my ears. His oxygen mask fogged with each shallow breath. I placed my hand on his forehead, the cold, clammy skin beneath my palm bringing a flood of dread.

I glanced at my brothers, sitting hunched over, heads down, staring at the floor.

"Is he responsive?" I asked quietly.

"Not yet," Brandon replied, his voice low. "The last time he responded was when the EMTs put him on the stretcher."

"Damn, here we go again," I muttered under my breath as I pulled out my phone and texted my soon-to-be wife, Haskiri.

"Hey, it looks like I’m staying here. Can you please prepare as usual?"

Then I turned to my brothers, saying the line I’d repeated countless times this year.

"Okay, guys, go home and rest. I’ve got it from here."

But, this time, they didn’t move. Not an inch. It was then I realized why.

This was our father—the man who sacrificed everything to provide, protect, and educate his three sons—and this was the first time any of us had seen him hooked up to wires in a hospital bed. None of us was leaving.

Clinging to Hope and Legacy

While waiting for an update from the doctors, I started to drift into a daydream—imagining the moment I’d take my father to Barnes & Noble, guiding him to the shelf where my book would be displayed. I pictured wrapping my arm around his shoulder and saying something like:

“Look, Pop. Your first son—the one doctors said would never live without assistance, who couldn’t read or write, the same kid who clung to your leg in the middle of the Holland Garden projects, surrounded by drug dealers and poverty—is now an author.”  

I held onto that vision momentarily, letting the emotion settle within me, just as the doctor stepped into the room.

Full Circle Moment: My father and I being interviewed by PIX 11 News in the very place where it all began—Holland Garden Projects in Jersey City, NJ. The streets that shaped my journey, now a backdrop to the story of growth, resilience, and the legacy we’re building together.

The doctor paused mid-stride as he entered the room to update us on my father’s condition. He adjusted his glasses, ready to remind us of the hospital’s two-guest policy—but stopped in his tracks when he saw the look on our faces, an unspoken refusal to leave.

He glanced down at the stack of papers in his hand and said,

"Your father has an infection, and unfortunately, it’s reached his brain. We’re following a protocol to treat it, and I believe he’ll be okay. But I have to tell you, if he had arrived even a few minutes later, I don't think he would’ve made it."

Without waiting for us to respond, the doctor rushed out of the room to continue his route to deliver updates to other patients he cared for.

With my father being moved to different rooms throughout the night for further treatment, my brothers and I eventually left to get some rest.

Facing Darkness to Find the Light

After leaving the hospital and returning home, I considered telling Haskiri that the publisher had finally accepted my manuscript.

But as I entered the house, I saw her in the kitchen, on a call with her brother—who had been arrested earlier this year and was serving his first sentence.

I waved to let her know I was home, then glanced over at the couch.

For a moment, I thought about kicking my feet up, turning on the fireplace, and watching something motivational on the 75-inch TV…

But ever since the day my mother had a seizure on that very couch—when I heard that familiar sound and rushed over, knowing exactly what it was—I haven’t been able to look at it the same way. I can still feel the weight of her body as I lifted her off the couch, her stitches splitting open, blood soaking my shirt and biceps as we waited for the EMTs to arrive. Now, no matter how much I want to relax, that memory keeps me from sinking into it like I used to.

I walked into my office, closed the door, and sank into my chair, feeling the weight of the day pressing down on me.

I craved a moment of peace, the kind where you can finally exhale, but as I stared out the window, all I could see was darkness.

I replayed the image of my father in that hospital bed—the fear in my brothers' eyes as they stood beside him.

The tears came next, as they always do—warm, heavy, and slow, silently tracing their way down my face. There were no words, just the weight of it all.

My father and I in my office, sharing a special moment as I read him chapters from my book, The You You Never Knew—just a few months before he was hospitalized.

I sat with those tears for a while, letting them fall, feeling the weight of it all. It wasn’t just my father—it was the months of uncertainty, the setbacks, and the relentless weight of everything going wrong.

For a moment, it felt like the darkness was closing in around me.

But as the tears slowed, a small voice inside reminded me that I’ve been here before, faced with an endless wave of crisis. And every time, I’ve found a way through—not by ignoring the pain or pretending it wasn’t there, but by facing it head-on and learning from it.

I wiped my face, took a deep breath, and searched for the silver lining—the life lesson hidden in all this suffering.

I reminded myself of a simple truth:

There is no growth without pain, and there is no finish line when it comes to healing from trauma, struggle, or adversity.

Suddenly, a sense of clarity washed over me. My mind was no longer trapped in the darkness—as if everything finally made sense.

Every hardship I’ve faced in my life has shaped me, making me stronger and more resilient. And, as much as the pain and adversity felt overwhelming, I knew deep down that these challenges were shaping me into the person I was destined to become.

Despite everything that has happened this past year, I overcame it all, broke through the setbacks with my manuscript, and stayed true to the legacy I’ve committed to—Greatness.

"When everything around me got cloudy
The chair became a king's throne, my destiny found me
It was clear why the struggle was so painful
Metamorphosis, this is what I changed to
And God, I'm so thankful."
— Nas, You're Da Man

That’s exactly what BeGreatWithNate is all about—showing you how to break through life’s obstacles and become stronger because of them. It’s not just about surviving the hard times; it’s about using every setback as a stepping stone to greatness.

If Preparation Plus Opportunity Equals Luck, Then Adversity Plus Persistence Equals Greatness

They say luck is what happens when preparation meets opportunity. But what happens when you’ve prepared, and yet adversity keeps knocking on your door?

That’s when greatness is truly forged.

When the world seems to fall apart, and everything tells you to give up, that’s the moment when you have the opportunity to rise above it all.

Adversity isn’t something to be feared; it’s the proving ground where persistence and resilience turn struggle into success.

The seeds of greatness are planted in those moments of chaos.

Being GREAT isn’t about being perfect or better than someone else, but it also never settles for “good enough.” Instead, it’s:

• Having the discipline to master your thoughts and make intentional choices.

• Finding the courage to choose faith over fear—believing something good is on the horizon, even when everything around you says otherwise.

• Understanding the universal laws of cause and effect and polarity. With trauma, suffering, and adversity come opportunity, growth, and the chance to do great things.

• And lastly, greatness is about being reliable—not just to others, but to yourself.

Every crisis can be your chance to break through and become the person you’ve always known you could be—The You You Never Knew.

As I write this, both of my parents are back in the hospital. Between visiting them, I’ve stayed disciplined in my thoughts and choices—being reliable not only to my family but to my word with my publisher, my agent, and most importantly, to myself and my goals.

Despite the chaos, I’m enthusiastic about returning to creating content and sharing The You You Never Knew with the world, taking the next step toward the vision I’ve held for so long, even as the world around me continues to fall apart.

The You You Never Knew

While I was writing The You You Never Knew, I was confronted with a fresh wave of trauma, as if the universe was challenging me to live out the very lessons I was putting on the page. And that’s what makes this book so powerful.

The You You Never Knew isn’t just another self-help book. It’s different because I’ve lived every word, but…

I understand why some may compare my book to other self-help books that were sold, but mine's a blueprint for transformation, where real stories unfold.

But have you ever seen a biracial man, half black and white, who can kick it with the thugs on the corner and the geeks in school? Going back to the block to teach knowledge and make education cool? 

Consistently caught in between gang, racial, and political wars without choosing a side, because I work from love and forgiveness—not pride?

Or how I was forced to help my father sell his painkillers to pay for the motel during our homeless days, at the same time, my mother was selling our food stamps card to get high, lost in her own haze.

All while being diagnosed with autoimmune diseases, one that crippled me to walk, the other marking my brown skin with white patches, then seeing my sister arrested for killing my niece, leaving her dead on the mattress.

I was filled with anger and revenge, but instead of acting out like my friends, I picked up the pen.

I mapped out the blueprint to change my life—but more importantly, my two younger brothers’.

I started taking the long route to avoid the gangs, drugs, and those who committed crimes. I plugged in my headphones, finding inspiration from those who made it out of the ghetto with rhymes.

I realized you can make it out the hood without selling dope. Listening to J.cole, Kendrick, and Nas gave me hope.

J. Cole taught me how to transform the struggles of the streets into something new, from sports to the pain of failing and pushing through. He pursued his true purpose and went to New York, like myself, trying his best to stay true to the pain and the spark. To the poverty and people he knew, never losing his heart, always keeping his message real—never straying from the art.

Kendrick Lamar confirmed it’s okay to be a Good Kid in a Mad City, proving you can rise above the chaos while understanding the struggles that keep the streets gritty.

Nas showed me that you can bring something new, pouring emotion into every word, shifting the East Coast’s view. His soulful lyrics gave the culture a brand-new lens, proving you don’t have to follow the norm to make amends.

Like Nas shifted rap, I believe my book will break the mold, giving readers something real, something new, something bold.

The YOU You Never Knew: Rewire Your Body and Mind to Go from Trauma and Stress to Health and Happiness — coming March 4, 2025! Now available for pre-order on Amazon, Walmart, Barnes & Noble, and more.

In this book, I’ll show you how to:

• Rewrite the patterns that trauma has shaped in your thoughts, perceptions, and actions

• Balance your nervous system to reduce stress and improve your sleep, digestion, and immunity

• Correct muscle imbalances to improve posture, reduce pain, and regain energy

• Tune into your body’s signals so you can give it what it needs to truly heal

You can pre-order your copy now.

If you want something even more personal, you can order a signed copy from WORD, an independent bookstore in Brooklyn and my hometown of Jersey City.

But don’t wait—WORD is only offering signed copies for a limited time. I’ll personally sign it before it ships, ensuring this book becomes not just a piece of my journey, but a part of yours.

As a special thank you, if you pre-order (or have already pre-ordered) a copy—or even multiple copies—you’ll get access to exclusive bonuses. Simply send a screenshot or order number to info@begreatwithnate.com, and my team will make sure you’re the first to receive these special rewards. I’ll be sharing full details about these bonuses in the coming weeks, and you’ll be first in line to receive them.

Whether you grab a copy of the book or simply take away the message from this newsletter, always remember how GREAT you are. Keep striving, keep growing, and keep believing in your potential.

Until next time,
BeGreatWithNate