Elizabeth Sabatine was a therapist, community organiser and champion of women. She also happened to be my mom.
I’m her youngest daughter, Teresa, a guide and coach determined to continue her legacy. She dedicated her life to advocating for women, and lost her 10-year battle with cancer when I was 22.
Being raised by a philosopher and football coach father and a psychologist and radical feminist mother was a formidable combination. I grew up in a global household surrounded by people from all walks of life. Everything I learned was through this loving lens of acceptance and understanding – I was always trying to find commonality with everyone I met.
One of my greatest skills became helping people feel seen and understood very quickly. My mom’s diagnosis and passing when I was young catapulted my empathy, threw adult themes into my life early on, and helped me to understand that deep tumultuous feelings and emotions are not something to be shrunk or shied away from.
I moved to NYC in a fog of grief after graduating college. Seeking my mother’s wisdom, I began writing blogs as
a means to connect with her and tell her what I was up to. I was surprised when young women started to read my writing and respond. I took on voluntary advocate writing gigs, writing for girls’ empowerment organizations, using words to articulate the way I felt.
As my career in film and television was gaining momentum, I started mentoring women to help them navigate the industry. I could see clearly how, together, women held the power to lift each other up. I started a life-coaching career matchmaker business, pairing women in the industry to help each other jump up in their careers.
Working on fun projects, like producing Hollywood box office films and working with Nike and Netflix, looked excellent on paper. To everyone around me, it honestly seemed like I had the dream job. But I felt so far from myself. I kept being led back to this idea of advocacy. How important it is for women to have an advocate, someone fighting in their corner. I just couldn’t shake it. I knew that with my history of grappling with my own anxiety and self doubt, I could come from a place of deep empathy and strength. So after a fortuitous conversation with my aunt, I undertook a coaching program and began to run workshops and mentor women as clients on the side of my day job. Years later, Love, Lizzy was born.
I remember hearing my Dad say that to my Mom in the last moments of her life. It was so sentimental. Dripping with so much love, each word full with it. It stuck in my head like a mantra. Love, Lizzy became the symbol, the author and the name for this budding venture.
‘I love you so much, Lizzy.’
