June 2025
The Dragon Slayer with a Heavy Heart — Marcia Powers
The first time I read this book, I was in ruins. I’d just been indicted, lost my job, and my marriage had collapsed. My whole life — the identity I had worked so hard to build — had crumbled. I was working with a Life Coach then, trying to understand what had happened and who I really was without the titles, roles, and achievements.
I picked up The Dragon Slayer with a Heavy Heart not expecting to see myself in it. But I did. Almost painfully so. And now, reading it again as I train to become a Life Coach myself — someone who helps others make sense of their own dark woods and buried dragons — the book carries even more weight. It’s not just a parable. It’s a mirror.
The Wounded Hero
The story follows a hero — the Dragon Slayer — who once lived by external victories. He slayed dragons, won praise, lived up to expectations. But something changes. The battles lose meaning, and the weight of his past starts pressing in. He begins to question his purpose, his value, and the story he’s been telling himself all along.
That was me, completely. I was a man who lived by performance, success, reputation. On the outside, I looked strong. I was “slaying dragons” — making a difference, checking boxes, pushing hard. But inside, I was tired. I was scared. And when the consequences of my broken decisions finally caught up with me, the illusion shattered.
Reading this book the first time helped me see that I wasn’t alone. That maybe I wasn’t a villain — I was just a warrior who’d lost his way. A man with a heavy heart.
The Inner Journey
The Dragon Slayer is forced to turn inward. Instead of chasing the next battle, he has to face his own grief, anger, shame, and fear. He starts to see that the real dragons were inside him all along.
This part of the story changed me. It helped me stop looking at everyone else as the enemy — the system, the prosecutors, the betrayals — and start asking what I hadn’t faced in myself. What wounds had I covered up with achievement? What parts of myself had I silenced in order to feel powerful or worthy?
There’s a moment in the book where the Dragon Slayer admits he’s tired of pretending. That line hit me. Because I was tired too. Tired of pretending to be okay. Tired of pretending I had it all together. Tired of keeping secrets.
The Heart of the Matter
Eventually, the hero has to learn to feel again — to open his heart. Not to become weak, but to become whole. He starts to reconnect with love, compassion, and forgiveness — both toward others and himself.
That’s what I’ve been learning these last couple years. That my strength isn’t in proving myself, it’s in telling the truth. That redemption doesn’t come from fixing everything or going back — it comes from stepping forward with a new heart. A softer one. A truer one.
The second time I read the book, I realized: this isn’t just a story about healing. It’s a story about leadership. The kind of leadership that comes from humility, courage, and vulnerability. The kind I want to offer others as a Life Coach.
How This Book Changed Me (Both Times):
- It taught me that the greatest dragons are the ones inside — shame, fear, control, unworthiness.
- It helped me see that I was allowed to rest. To feel. To heal.
- It showed me that my story didn’t end with my failure — it could actually begin there.
- It reminded me that transformation isn’t about fixing the past — it’s about reclaiming the present.
- It inspired me to help others drop their armor and face their pain with grace.
This book is for anyone who’s worn out from being strong. For anyone who’s carried their wounds in silence and called it discipline. It reminded me — twice — that I don’t need to keep fighting to be loved. That sometimes the bravest thing a man can do is lay down his sword and open his heart. And now, that’s what I want to help others do too.
