Top 10 Reasons:
- 2 days ago
- 10 min read
Why I Cannot and Will Not Practice Law.
(Reposted from Jackie's Willable Substack)
I have been asked every formation of: Will you ever practice law again? It’s usually that simple, but every now and then it’s more nuanced. Sometimes people mince words, assuming they may hurt my feelings. (Spoiler alert: It still hurts, but I’ve gotten better at coping.) Some folks repeat it, repeatedly.
I’ve been continuously questioned about returning to practice since I was in the throes of autoimmune encephalitis (and astonished that anyone would ask such a thing?!) up through just weeks ago on a Wednesday. For those counting, that’s from as early as the summer of 2018, through April 2026.
From my time in practice, beginning on July 31, 2009 (two days after I sat for the bar exam) through my last “official” day at Stebbins Mulloy on July 31, 2019 (when I was still clinging to life and had been on medical leave since May 2018) I earned the distinctions of National Trial Lawyers, Top 40 Under 40; Super Lawyers, Rising Stars; and Top 40 Under 40 in business and community by the Bismarck Tribune and Fargo’s Prairie Business Magazine.
I was interviewed (circa 2013-14) to represent North Dakota for an online book, called Real World Divorce, about the variations of spousal and child support across each state. Call me cringe, but the author’s introductory words are big-teeth-smile worthy:
“Jackie Stebbins is one of our youngest interviewees, but has already been selected as a ‘Rising Star’ by the Super Lawyers folks. She speaks about twice as fast as the average lawyer and adds disarming rural idioms to every third sentence. Plainly she would be a formidable advocate.”
Early in my career, I had a big case against a seasoned litigator who was making me miserable. It got back to two of my heroes, who are also some of North Dakota’s greatest, Irv and Tom. My firm officed-shared with Irv’s firm at the time, and as I walked by his office one day (always careful of his time, otherwise I would have camped next to him to obsessively watch every single thing he said and did, because he was brilliant and funny) he called me in. He simply told me he knew the situation I faced, but that I was a “good lawyer.”
He said that. To me. I was a baby lawyer who knew nothing about anything, but Irv said what he said. (And I knew I’d die happy!) He wasn’t one to blow smoke, either. Although, the first time he met Sean, he wryly said, “I’ll represent you in the divorce.” Ha ha. Sean hangs that over my head to date, although we lost our beloved Irv in 2023.
Tom later pumped me up with a pep talk that I used as my lawyer mantra when the times got tough, and I passed it on to young lawyers I mentored. Upon those two conversations, I swore I’d never back down or give an inch as a lawyer, and I didn’t. I pushed and pulled, scratched and bit, vented and cried, and was relentless. Because I aspired to be a darn good lawyer.
I prosecuted a cat as the city attorney in the small town of Lincoln (True story: The damn cat had an alibi.) I was also responsible for the North Dakota Supreme Court case about bicycling under the influence. (And if you ask around, you’ll find a lot of eye rolls from mentors and friends!) I didn’t make the rules! But I always did my job.
I won some cases others saw as unwinnable. I had a motion granted in federal court when one of the most experienced criminal defense attorneys I knew said I could try, but he’d never seen it done and was hesitant it would happen. I litigated cases where large firms opposed our less than ten person operation. I once worked alongside outside counsel from a metro area. And that terrifyingly brilliant and experienced litigator offered me nothing but accolades and belief in my work.
After presenting on spousal support and civil settlements to my beloved North Dakota Association for Justice friends (the plaintiffs’ attorneys [“trial lawyers”] [ambulance chasers]), I ran into one of North Dakota’s finest civil litigators, named Dave, who was married to my most admired state Supreme Court justice, Mary, in our building’s parking lot. As we chatted and I mentioned something about not trying enough jury trials, Dave smiled and assured me I’d be quite persuasive to jurors. My heart swelled almost as much as my head.
(Fun Fact: I argued my first N.D. Sup. Ct. case on my “practice papers” [law students and those who aren’t yet sworn into the bar can practice in a limited capacity under the instruction of a licensed attorney] under my boss, only days after I received my bar passage news. Because I had net negative lawyering skills, I couldn’t quite answer one of Justice Mary’s questions. I’ll never forget her kind eyes and the way they reassured me I was doing the best I could do. I adored her throughout her entire career. She reached out to me when I was sick and it meant so much. I recently listened to that argument while researching my forthcoming memoir on the expectations of law school and was relieved to find out I was slightly less dumber than I thought! Thankfully, the case was upheld, as we knew it would be, regardless of my oral argument glitch, and I got to say the words “meat grinder.” Once again, I don’t make the rules.)
Through the local bar and various organizations, I gave speeches and taught classes. I volunteered at sponsored meals for impoverished people in our community. I took cases for free or nominal payments and told no one but my law partner. For years, I went to the same 5th grade classroom for Law Day. I created mock trials for friends’ elementary classes and spoke to high schoolers.
At Stebbins Mulloy’s inception, many lawyers gave us beautiful feedback that honored our work and the look of the new firm. We believed in our tagline: Competent. Efficient. Effective. We were killing it!
On Tuesday, May 8, 2018, my last day of work, I attended my final committee meeting with a group of senior and distinguished lawyers. I was the youngest in the crowd, but felt respected in my role. Even though I was on an unknown, but soon to be rapid descent to near-death hell, I persisted to not let Judge Hovland down. (I once wrote a blog about him, “Have Mercy on the Criminal.”)
After I got sick, I heard one of the highest compliments ever, and it was from one of my heroes, former Agriculture Commissioner, lawyer, and author, Sarah. She told Sean that senior lawyers didn’t always know what to do with me, because I had knowledge past my experience. She’d heard firsthand accounts of me pulling a rabbit out of my hat in the courtroom much to the opposing counsel’s surprise and chagrin. I’ll carry this to my grave!
My days were not all roses. I was quasi-stalked for two years, beginning while I was on maternity leave. I was threatened. I had some strange encounters while visiting clients in jail. I saw overdose and death in criminal discovery. I was once called an icy b**** in the elevator when the opposing parties didn’t see me in the back (slightly waves … hello there!). I was yelled at and hung up on. I worried about my safety and that of my family’s (job dissatisfaction for sure). I screwed up and said and did dumb things. At times, I hated my life and prayed to be hospitalized to be left alone (Spoiler alert: That’s a terrible plan!).
For the sake of argument, let’s push aside the icky stuff and that I was recklessly working myself to death. That I had little boundaries. That I never gave my nervous system time to rest or refresh. That I pushed at high levels since I was a teenager. That I didn’t believe mental health affected me. That chronic stress was taking a deleterious toll on my mind and body. That I suffered from serious burnout at the end. Notwithstanding all of this, I can still honestly say that I loved what I did.
From 5th grade when I first dreamed of becoming a fancy lawyer like I read about in John Grisham’s The Client, through May 8, 2018, I was all in. Through the old, heatless Ford Taurus I drove in law school, to the demands I placed upon myself to graduate college Summa Cum Laude and with distinction from law school, to the hours, to the student loans, to Sean’s and my sacrifices to get where we were going, my life was the law.
And it was all taken from me upon my autoimmune encephalitis (AE) diagnosis.
In a nutshell, AE was a rich and rewarding experience that included, but was not limited to: a 48-hour stint in the psychiatric ward; amnesia for almost two months; a loss of cognition and memory; psychosis; failed cognitive assessments; seizures; a grand mal seizure that broke and dislocated my shoulder and broke my back in three places; isolation in my home and inability to drive for almost one-year; and trips to the Mayo Clinic. My life post-acute AE has been filled with excitement such as: depression; panic attacks; intrusive thoughts; destroyed agency and confidence; the inability to feel normal in social situations; loss of identity; financial ruin, and the diagnoses of illnesses I’d never before heard of (along with AE!) Celiac disease and hypersomnia, both of which drastically changed my life overnight (along with AE!!). I now eat an extremely regimented and cheatless diet and suffer from chronic exhaustion for which there is no cure. I’ve lost bone density, fight inflammation, and my cartilage is painfully wearing throughout my body. A doctor told me today that although I’m 42, my joints are that of a 65 year old. I had wires placed in my back to test out a permanent implant for chronic pain. I take meds four times/day. I need a combination of stimulants and sleep medication to have the semblance of a routine life. I cried for so many (tears)(years), my ducts runneth dry.
I’ve come so far. And I’m enormously proud of the way I’ve rebuilt my life! I look and act (mostly?) normal. I’m present for my husband and children. I love writing and speaking about resilience and hope. I stand on my own two feet and travel solo. But in 2025 alone, I went to the doctor 60+ times and saw ten specialties in North Dakota and Minnesota. Sadly enough, this wasn’t a medically unusual year for me.
Every day, I battle an exhaustion so deep that it’s hard to think of anything other than sleep. On a good day, it makes me testy and frustrated, on bad days it harms my psyche. I grind through it, because I have to for my family, but it’s undesirable to say the least. I push through mental health and medical maladies, daily. It is a persistent and agonizing struggle to cope with my facts. I’ve worked tirelessly in counseling for six years to make sense of the unthinkable, to process my feelings, and to embrace my life as is. I feel immense joy and enormous pain. This is my life post-AE. I’ve accepted it. I’ve Just [Kept] Swimming and I’ll never stop believing in the promise of Better Days Ahead! But the horrors remain.
Anyway, back to the thought at hand. I dearly miss practicing law. Only recently did I stop crying after I saw my partner, Mike. Every. Single. Time. I’d love to have Stebbins Mulloy back. I wish I could do it again, because I’d do it better and smarter. But my inability to practice law is as clear to me now as it was when I “woke up” in June 2018 and knew it was over.
If there was a way to change it, I would change it. If there was a way for me to practice law, I’d find it. If I could do it, I would have done it years ago. If I could get back on the path towards the $10 million dollar career Ken calculated for me, I’d move faster than these broken joints would allow. If I had one wish … that’s to meet Elton John, not to practice law!
Thus, based upon the foregoing recitation of the facts and analysis, I heretofore and therefore conclude with Jackie’s Top 10 Reasons Why I Cannot and Will Not Practice Law:
10. Because I had autoimmune encephalitis;
9. Because I had autoimmune encephalitis;
8. Because I had autoimmune encephalitis;
7. Because I had autoimmune encephalitis;
6. Because I had autoimmune encephalitis;
5. Because I had autoimmune encephalitis;
4. Because I had autoimmune encephalitis;
3. Because I had autoimmune encephalitis;
2. Because I had autoimmune encephalitis;
1. Because I had autoimmune encephalitis! And why the hell would I ever go back into the fire when I’ve finally found my way out?!
I know that I’ll continue to be asked the question, and I’m finally (mostly) OK with that. People’s intentions are good. They miss me and want me to be happy, and I appreciate that.
(And just in case anyone slips in the variation of: “Do you still have your law license?" Yes! Yes I sure do. Because I frickin’ earned it and it’s mine to keep. AE did not and will not take that away! Nor will the devil himself pry it out of my cold, dead hands. No! It’s not “just in case,” but thanks for asking.)
In the law as in life, the past is a helpful predictor of the future. As of today, May 8, 2026, I’ve been gone eight years. And sucks as it does, my answer remains the same.
I will never practice law again.
Acceptance is Willable.
Pass it on.
Luv, jackie
__________
/ / The JM Stebbins blog is an autoimmune encephalitis blog from former lawyer and autoimmune encephalitis survivor, Jackie M. Stebbins.
Jackie M. Stebbins is also the author of Unwillable: A Journey to Reclaim my Brain, a book about autoimmune encephalitis, resilience, hope, and survival. //
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