“You kinda go into that whole thing thinking ‘this will be fun,’ so I was pretty shocked to learn that I would have someone’s life in my hands. We were delivering a training program in Canada, a First Nation Community. Miles from nowhere. I was part of a wellbeing program to improve quality of life for people who had it seriously tough. I didn’t have any hotel security around me. This was the bush, and the people were tough. And I was getting nervous about doing everything myself. The lady who organised my training program had one of those big pick-up trucks. A giant truck. She met me at the front door of the hall. There was an emergency and asked for my help. I was happy to be able to help. I had no idea what was ahead. We left the audience waiting and drove through the bushland with upturned rusty cars everywhere until we got to the outskirts of town. We dodged pot holes big enough to live in. And the houses became less frequent and the road worse until we came to what looked like a movie set from Deliverance. Upturned cars with huge nasty barking german shepherd dogs tearing and pulling at their chains trying to get free to eat us. Guard dogs. That’s where I first met the most beautiful person in the world. We climbed the rickety wooden stairs to this tiny house. I was so glad to be inside and away from those dogs. But not for long. Cigarette smoke was so thick my eyes burnt. Immediately I could smell a mix of sweat, heat, food and smoke. We walked past the open kitchen and 30-40 people aged from 14 to 90 sat in old arm chairs, ripped leather lounges, kitchen chairs with chrome legs and some on the floor. Most of the men were thin, drug tough thin, the women big, strong, motherly, ferocious, tough. I still didn’t know why I was torn from the fun of a training program in a community hall to this. My Canadian assistant fainted. She just curled up in a fetal position on the floor. I was welcomed. I sat in the round on a kitchen chair. Someone shared the story. They pointed to the most beautiful person in the world, a gorgeous looking first nation woman about 15 years old. She was crying. She’d obviously been crying for a long time. Her face was red but her neck was really red. Rope burn marks. Deep and bleeding. She was shaking. Uncontrollably. I got the sense that she’d taken on a mass of alcohol. They were the sweetest people. These were definitely rope marks. She’d tried to hang herself last night. Probably, from the looks of her, come close to succeeding. But she was in good hands. This family they’d all seen this so often before. Five in the last two years. They were not always on time like today. It’s a first nation habit up in Canada. It was a part of my brief back at that long forgotten training program in the Community hall. Here I was, right on the front line. No time for theory here. I was here to help stop this because this most beautiful person in the world was ready to do it again if left alone. I needed to stop it. The talking circle started and everyone shared why she was wonderful and why she is better than this. And this went on and on and on. But I just couldn’t take it. After one hour only five people had spoken. The most beautiful person in the world was getting hysterical. She’d been taken from her mum when she was six along with her younger brother and put in government care and been abused and she’d run away and again and again.Each time she’d get caught, she’d be sexually abused by police, government and foster parents. Each time she ran, she took her brother. She finally lived in a rail yard., There was a big gap in the story from then.I suspect it was not pretty. One day, at the same age as her mum, she had a child and another and then they got taken by the Government. Her story and that of her babies was the most loving, beautiful story I’ve ever heard. That’s why she’s my vote for the most beautiful person in the world. Her story. I stopped the talking circle. Men got mad. Women started to abuse me. I just asked for some space to speak to the girl. I asked her some questions. She replied “‘I’m not interested in your fucked up shit. I’m a fucking bitch, I want to die.” I had my work cut out in front of me. But I loved this person. I felt so much respect and love for her. So, I did the only thing you can do in that situation. I agreed with her. “Yes” I said, “you are a fucking bitch.” Two men stood up ready for permission to attack. I raised my hand, “wait, you asked me to help, let me.” Yes, you are a bitch, but so is Mother Teresa, and Madonna, and then I asked the women in the room to put their hand up if they too were a bitch sometimes. Everyone did. I said, “yes, yr a bitch but you deserve to be loved for it. Everyone agree?” and they all supported it. I showed her that this bitch is a surviver. A protector, a power in the world and if she takes it she can be super woman in the world. She started to smile. I had her. I opened her heart. One minute she was hanging herself for being a bitch next she was loving herself for it. There was more we did, but in an hour, everyone saw, the terror go out of her eyes and she was smiling and eating. I went back past the dogs to the truck and back to the hall. She showered and came. I called her the most beautiful person in the world and the room was shocked because she was known for being a bit wild. After that day, every-time I came to the community I did a one on one hour with her. She emailed me allot. I was living in NYC and I was presenting at the UN Conference on Youth and they agreed that the most beautiful person in the world should speak there. Months later, she got chaperoned by community leaders to NYC where my team took her to the UN and she told her story to a mesmerised crowd. It was good. Brilliant but when she got back to the community, six girls jumped her as she was walking and smashed her up with pipes and bats. That’s what you get for breaking the mould. I lost touch with her. But I know she moved to another town, met a good man and made a home. She’s one on the most important teachers of my life. She helped mould me into the life coach I am today. I think everybody I meet is the most beautiful person in the world. Everyone has every trait. So, if I think you are the most beautiful person in the world, then, I must be too.