In this deeply personal solo episode, Sarah Jordan-Ross reflects on the quiet moments and sacred losses that have shaped her — from childhood illness to her mother’s cancer journey to the recent passing of mentor and friend, Malcolm-Jamal Warner. With vulnerability and grace, Sarah invites us to stop saving joy for “some day” and instead live with presence, purpose, and love — today.
“Joy stopped being something to be saved for later, and became something to be savored now.”
“You don’t need to be famous to matter. You just have to be willing to show up, even when it’s hard.”
“Malcolm was more committed to meaning than to metrics. He was chasing impact, and he certainly left a legacy.”
Sarah Jordan-Ross (00:01) Hey everybody, welcome back to Taboo Talk with Sarah, the podcast that breaks the silence, fosters hope and talks about the tough stuff so you never have to feel alone. Now today's episode feels more personal than most. I wasn't sure I'd record it, but there's been this consistent nudge to just speak it. And sometimes what we don't talk about is exactly what we need to.
So I've been reflecting on the threads and the people that have shaped me. The hard ones, the sacred ones. The ones I wouldn't have chosen, but I wouldn't trade now either.
I've been asked lots of times if I could go back and not get sick as a kid, if I could skip getting three nasty viruses all at once and the chronic fatigue that followed it, would I? Would I make that choice? Honestly, no I wouldn't.
Even though it was brutal and I wouldn't wish it on anyone, it made me. It slowed me down, it stripped things away, it forced me to learn to be still and to listen and how to hold grief and hope in the same hand. Without that season, I don't think I'd be who I am.
I don't think I'd see people the same way I do. I don't think I'd carry compassion in my bones.
Then when my mum got sick, she had ovarian cancer. Something shifted in our house. My mum had spent her whole life saving the good stuff, like the Christmas dinner set, saving things for special occasions. But when she got sick, something shifted.
That dinner set that we'd only ever used on Christmas or birthdays became the everyday set because she believed that every day was special now.
And she also said that she had all of these beautiful things. had cabinet full of amazing antique china that I used to look at and just want to play with it. And when she got sick, that china, that got pulled out just for afternoon tea, just because we could.
And there was a time in my life previously that we'd done that on a Sunday afternoon. But instead of just being that special Sunday afternoon thing, that was a, let's celebrate every day kind of thing because beautiful things were made to be used to be enjoyed. And she decided she was going to enjoy them.
That then made every day beautiful and that's stayed with me. Joy stopped being something to be saved for later and something to be savored now. To start making those ordinary moments feel sacred.
Now recently, the world lost Malcolm Jamal Warner. Now, most people know him from his acting career and his larger than life presence. But to us, he was a mentor and a friend. He was a grounding voice in our lives through his work with Joseph McLendon in Make It Matter group.
Malcolm had this quiet power, a way of really seeing people. He spoke with presence, he listened with intent. And he reminded us that no matter what was going on, there would always be a reason to smile. And if you are having trouble finding your reason to smile, that was when you needed to be that reason for somebody else.
and that is advice that will stick with me probably the rest of my life.
in our last Make It Matters session that was all about the fear of success.
Malcolm shared something that surprised me.
He admitted even he struggled with the fear of success.
This grounded, accomplished man, had every reason to be confident and sure and certain. Yet he wrestled with the same questions and insecurities that so many of us do. And I think that's what I loved about him most. Yes, he was talented. Yes, he was very well known. But away from the cameras, he was just so beautifully human.
He was more committed to meaning than to metrics.
He was chasing impact, he chasing legacy and he certainly left one.
So today I want to honour him, I want to honour my mum and I want to honour the younger version of me. The sick kid who was scared and tired but who kept going.
Because grief teaches us not just what we've lost, but what matters most. It reminds us that presence, truly showing up, is everything. Purpose isn't always grand and loud, but often it's in small steady acts of love. And that people, the ones who lift us, see us, believe in us, are worth cherishing while we can.
So this is your reminder and mine. You don't need to be famous to matter. You don't need a big audience to make a big impact. You just have to be willing to show up, even when it's hard. To love deeply, to tell the truth, to make every day special. If you're grieving, I'm sitting with you. If you've loved and lost,
I see you. If you've ever asked, will I ever feel whole again? You're not alone. Let's live like it matters. Let's carry their light forward in how we love, lead and linger with one another.
Thank you for being here with me. I will see you next time. And until then, remember, your story matters. So share it. You matter. And you never know when your story might be the thing that changes someone else's life.
I'm Sarah Jordan-Ross and this has been Taboo Talk.