Michele Barard shared their story and experiences with us recently and you can find our conversation below.
Hi Michele, thank you so much for taking time out of your busy day to share your story, experiences and insights with our readers. Let’s jump right in with an interesting one: What do the first 90 minutes of your day look like?
I appreciate the opportunity. The first 90 minutes of my day are sacred. I ease into the morning with meditation, allowing my thoughts to settle. After that, I check my calendar and sketch out the day’s priorities so I’m not running on autopilot.
Then it’s time for a walk with my dog, Abby. We usually spend 30 to 45 minutes wandering the neighborhood. Watching her chase squirrels and investigate every bush reminds me to approach life with fresh eyes. Her curiosity is contagious. That walk, away from screens and expectations, is often where I find the clarity or spark I didn’t even know I was missing.
Can you briefly introduce yourself and share what makes you or your brand unique?
I’m a New Orleans native with a lifelong passion for storytelling, truth-telling, and helping people reach their goals. My company, Michele A. Barard LLC (formerly Urban Book Editor), was born from a desire to help writers and entrepreneurs bring their stories to life—through books, coaching, websites, and marketing.
Now, I’m in the middle of a shift. I’ve hustled for years. I’ve supported incredible clients. And now, I’m carving out space to rediscover what I want to create—on my terms. These days, my focus is on my own writing, my YouTube channels, and building platforms that support creative freedom and healing—especially for Black women.
What’s special about my story is that I’m not afraid to start over. Reinvention isn’t failure—it’s self-mastery in motion.
Great, so let’s dive into your journey a bit more. Who were you before the world told you who you had to be?
I was an artist. A writer. A daydreamer. A singer, a dancer, a model, and a mom to a small army of baby dolls. Before the world told me who to be, I was everything I could imagine—and I imagined a lot. One of my favorite pastimes was to lie on the front lawn and look up at the clouds passing overhead, picking out shapes as they floated through the sky.
But in the United States, the world doesn’t wait long to start narrowing your path. I can’t speak for other countries, but here, you’re taught early to be practical, serious, and focused. To work hard. To stay in line.
Somehow, I managed to hold onto a thread of that childlike joy and limitless optimism. I didn’t let go of the dreamer. I just tucked her safely inside while I played the roles the world demanded. Now, I’m letting her back out.
What have been the defining wounds of your life—and how have you healed them?
You don’t get to be my age without carrying a few scars. But I wouldn’t call any of them defining. I don’t let wounds define me—I define myself.
The challenges we face shape us, yes—but they don’t get to write our stories. They teach us. They sharpen us. If we’re lucky, they make us wiser, stronger, and more compassionate.
Healing, for me, has come through forgiveness—of others and of myself. That doesn’t mean forgetting. It means choosing to move forward without carrying the weight of someone else’s guilt or judgment. It means giving myself grace, even if the world doesn’t.
I think our readers would appreciate hearing more about your values and what you think matters in life and career, etc. So our next question is along those lines. What do you believe is true but cannot prove?
I believe there’s a spiritual realm we can’t see. Some might say science has explained it as another dimension or frequency, but I’m not here to debate theories. I only know what I’ve experienced. I’ve witnessed miracles. Not once—repeatedly. And I believe there’s something, or someone, that guides and cares for us—if we’re willing to pay attention and listen.
I believe that realm is ruled by love — a deep, abiding, unshakable love. The kind that anchors you when nothing else makes sense. And I believe we’re called to bring that love into the world—not as a concept, but as a practice. That’s the work – and the invitation.
Thank you so much for all of your openness so far. Maybe we can close with a future oriented question. What is the story you hope people tell about you when you’re gone?
One of my favorite stories is one my father told me. My mom’s family is from the Mississippi Gulf Coast, and we’d visit often when I was little. On one trip, we stopped at a local store before heading to the beach. I must’ve been about two or three years old. As my dad told it, I wandered off—just disappeared into the store.
When they found me, I had a little white boy under one arm and a little white girl under the other. My dad said the white folks in the store just stood there, part shocked, part delighted, watching this little black girl and two white kids being… kids. We were all pointing and laughing at a gumball machine, blind to the racial tensions around us.
I hope people tell that story—or one like it—when I’m gone.
I believe we’re more alike than we are different. We all want the same things: joy, safety, meaning, and a chance to care for the people we love. I hope my life reflects that belief—that I brought people together, that I lifted others up, and that I helped make space for more joy, not less.
Because life isn’t a zero-sum game. When the least of us rises, we all rise.
Contact Info:
- Website: https://michelebarard.com
- Instagram: http://www.instagram.com/urbanbookeditor
- Linkedin: http://www.linkedin.com/company/urbanbookeditor
- Twitter: http://www.x.com/urbanbookeditor
- Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/urbanbookeditor
- Other: TikTok: http://www.tiktok.com/@urbanbookeditor
