biography
Vanisha Breault is a Canadian leader, keynote speaker, best-selling author, and revolutionary voice for hope. She commands stages and boardrooms alike with a fierce blend of authenticity, passion, and strategic insight, inspiring audiences to lead with courage, confront adversity, and build lives of impact.
For nearly two decades, she has been a relentless advocate in the mental health, addiction, and homelessness sectors — leading teams, shaping strategy, and driving systems-level change. Her leadership philosophy integrates lived experience with trauma-informed strategy, hope-driven culture, and courageous storytelling.
As Founder and former CEO of the Terminator Foundation, Vanisha pioneered Activity-Based Recovery Therapy (ABRT), a scalable recovery model that became the backbone of a national movement for youth addiction awareness. Her memoir, Ordinary Courage, shares her family’s journey through trauma and recovery, offering a testament to resilience and the strength of the human spirit.
Hope + Courage Creator
Vanisha speaks to corporate leaders, healthcare professionals, educators, and change-makers — equipping them with the tools to lead with courage and ignite transformation in their organizations and communities.
Her leadership and impact have been recognized nationally, including the King Charles III Coronation Medal, the Women of Inspiration Difference Maker Award (2020), and the CMHA Nadine Stirling Memorial Award (2018). She has served on provincial and national advisory boards, shaping policy, strategy, and system reform in mental health, addiction recovery, and youth support across Canada.
Coming December 2025, she will be pursuing her Master of Arts in Leadership at Royal Roads University. Building on nearly two decades of lived experience and advocacy to expand her impact as a transformational leader, and speaker.
She resides in Calgary, Alberta with her four grown children and grandchildren.
My Story
I grew up in a small town called Dawson Creek, B.C. The winters were cold, with so much snow we could jump from balconies into huge snow piles and build massive forts with tunnels. Our summer days held endless sunshine and the smell of freshly oiled gravel roads. As soon as I could walk, I was in skates. Before long, you’d find me riding my banana-seat bike down the gravel road of Loran Drive.
Skating—and nearly every sport—became my lifeline, the one place I could channel all the pain into motion. But like so many stories, mine took a hard turn early in my childhood. Addiction and mental illness were part of my family story long before they became part of mine.
I picked up my first drink at twelve, and for a long time I lived caught between trauma and survival. In the midst of all that, I was introduced to Jesus Christ at the age of seven. I had my first spiritual encounter with Him then—an experience that became the bedrock of my young faith and has remained my spiritual compass for the rest of my life.
In my early teens, I was introduced to a counselor named Judy to support my healing journey from years of sexual, emotional, and mental trauma. Judy became another lifeline for me. During one particular session, I was talking about feeling suicidal—again. I remember Judy slapping her hand down on her knee, leaning forward in her chair, looking me square in the face, and saying, “You either get busy living, or get busy dying—but you can't do both.”
I was jolted like never before. Something in me broke open, and for the first time in my life, I knew I didn’t want to die. I wanted to live—I just didn’t want to live the way I had been living. I decided to believe what I knew deep down to be true: there had to be more. And I went on my way to find it. That moment became one of the first defining moments of
my life—when I understood that while I wasn’t responsible for the horrible things that had been done to me, I was responsible for how I chose to let them define me. That realization changed everything.
Over time, that fight to live turned into something else—a purpose. My children became my why and the reason I refused to repeat what I came from. My daughter’s own struggle with addiction became the spark that started a small youth addiction awareness run, which grew into what became Terminator Foundation—a movement of recovery and hope for people who thought they were beyond saving.
The full vision of Terminator Foundation truly came to life during the revolutionary experience of training for my first Ironman 70.3. That race pushed me further than I’d ever gone before—physically, mentally, and spiritually. It was there that I began to see how movement, discipline, and endurance could become a pathway to healing. That realization sparked the innovation of Activity-Based Recovery Therapy (ABRT)and became the foundation of the Terminator model.
Since then, I’ve gone on to complete a couple more 70.3 Ironman races—each one a living reminder that transformation is possible: body, mind, and soul.
Today, I speak, write, and lead from a place of truth. I talk about courage, resilience, faith, and the kind of hope that doesn’t break when life does. I don’t sugarcoat what I’ve been through—and I never will. My story didn’t destroy me; it shaped me into a woman who knows exactly who she is and Who sustains her.
I’ve been through hell and back, but I’m still standing—stronger, clearer, and more determined than ever. And honestly… this is just the beginning.
