At the beginning of 2020, I was working my "dream job" as the Clinic Director of a non-profit medical clinic. My life consisted of waking up, dropping my kids off at their grandma's house, and heading to work to meet with individuals facing different crises. My work was fulfilling and I never imagined stepping away from that organization. At the end of 2019, my father-in-law was diagnosed with stage 4 cancer. Family started to hold a different weight in my heart. Leaving my kids every day became harder and harder as I longed to spend more time with them, but I was so dedicated to my work that leaving never felt like a possibility. In March 2020 when lockdowns started happening, it seemed like I got the best of both worlds. I could stay at home with my family and continue to work virtually. I participated in meaningful projects that otherwise wouldn't have happened, and my bosses were more than accommodating. I started to get anxious when things started opening up because my heart felt torn about how to move forward. We got the good news in April 2020 that my father-in-law was cancer-free. However, in May 2020 my mother-in-law suffered two strokes that left her visually impaired. Watching my young sons became harder and harder. The pull to stay home became almost unbearable and it started affecting my time at work. In September 2020, after months of trying my best to "go back to normal," I realized that everything had changed and I was holding onto a reality that wasn't possible. My family dynamic had changed through the various health trials my in-laws endured. My heart was set on being home, and my clients at work deserved someone consistent and emotionally available to walk alongside them in their crises. I respectfully resigned from my position and became a stay-at-home mom. I embraced the time at home to dream again about the future and imagine things in a way where my family was still coming first. I began a crafting side business out of my home and even launched a storytelling podcast. I have taken time to develop more supports and accountability. And now, at the beginning of 2021, I am taking my first graduate-level course. When I let myself dream, I realized that I had stopped moving forward in what I feel called to do because I thought I had everything I wanted. No matter how devastating 2020 has been, it will always feel sacred to me for the ways I have expanded my vision and grown within myself. It has been a year of maturity, sacrifice, suffering, but also joy, possibility, and deep gratitude. I am working towards a Master's degree in Clinical Mental Health Counseling to become a Licensed Professional Counselor. I anticipate the further growth that will come throughout my studies and being able to look towards a future of supporting others in their own journies.

One of my most vivid childhood memories is staring at myself in the mirror wondering, "Is this what it means to be alive?" My house was chaos. My brother was suicidal and engaged in risky behavior. My mom was single parenting after running away from my physically and emotionally abusive biological father. There was a lot of love, but there was also a lot of pain. That pain could be easily triggered and it seemed like my role became the emotional scapegoat. I always remember having a tender heart. I could easily sense and take on the pain of others. What felt like a weakness has now become one of my greatest strengths. When I was 19, I was recovering from an intense break-up. My boyfriend battled self-harm and his parents would often become highly emotional after certain incidences. Being in that environment with such high emotions, I quickly became the emotional scapegoat again and it triggered feelings of unworthiness, neglect, and fear that I was the root of everyone's problems. One night I sat in my room crying out because of the pain of ending that relationship. I felt lost and unequipped to deal with my emotions. I had been in therapy before after battling anxiety and depression in high school, so I decided that I should go back. At that first meeting, my therapist simply asked, "How are you doing?" And I realized that I couldn't answer. I had been so busy living everyone else's life that I had completely numbed my thoughts and feelings about myself. For an hour, she sat there quietly as I sobbed into my hands. She invited me back the next week and in that session, she read me the children's book, "You are Special" by Max Lucado. I spent another hour crying, but something about the words of the story unlocked the dam that barricaded my pain, and this time the tears were cathartic and soothing. That counselor gave me the gift of identity apart from the chaos of others. Since graduating with a degree in Sociology, I have had the opportunity to create safe places for individuals in my community to work through their own pain. I look forward to obtaining my Master's degree in Clinical Mental Health Counseling to gain the skills and qualifications to continue this work. I am thankful for my personal care team that has allowed me to process, accept, and create empowering solutions to overcome my own pain. I hope someday everyone will feel like the tough work achieved in counseling is a vital part of their overall wellness and capacity to carry out their specific roles.

I would describe my childhood self as curious and observant. While most kids spent their time playing sports or watching TV, I spent my time people-watching, always noticing when things seemed "off." For example, there were the individuals at my great-grandmother's nursing home who never got visitors, the kid on the bus each day wearing the same dirty clothes, and the pregnant girl in the corner of the room with no one to talk to. I've always had a natural affection for the lonely, hurting, broken, and abandoned. For much of my life, those words described me, but something that always pulled me through was my desire to make an actual lasting difference for someone. I also remember having an entrepreneurial spirit from early childhood. I had no shame knocking on my neighbors' doors with some "natural perfume" made from plants and items around my house and selling it to them like it was Marc Jacobs. Being able to legally get a job at 16 was weirdly exciting. I loved the independence that came with having a job, but while I showed up faithfully, I'd always be dreaming about what businesses I could start on my own. Even in high school, I would find ways to start different things, like a school-wide recycling program. Straight out of college I was hired as the Clinic Director at a non-profit (a big accomplishment for a first-year college graduate in my family). I was able to work with women and men facing crises. Being able to listen, connect them to resources, and empower them with dignifying options was exactly what I always dreamed to do, but I would start to notice gaps in our community resources and gaps in the scope of that organization to meet important needs. I often asked myself, "what actually makes a difference?" Because of Covid, I eventually stepped out of my non-profit role to stay at home with my two young sons. While I was devastated to give up what seemed to be my dream job, I now had the opportunity to let my creativity flow by developing projects that suited my personal passions. In September 2020, I launched a podcast called That Really Happened that focuses on telling the stories of those that have overcome difficult circumstances or are creating businesses that focus on healthy communities. While I can confidently say that this is exactly what I want to be doing, I know that my calling goes beyond just doing what I love. Obtaining higher levels of revenue allows for proper investment in the many expenses that go into creating a solid business. I have learned that time and good intention alone won't build a profitable brand or business. While financial success isn't my ultimate goal, I have learned that you have to be willing to invest the time AND money to make all the effort worthwhile. The more you do upfront, the more sustainable the vision is. I have to earn money to invest and give money as well. Ultimately, I believe becoming a Licensed Professional Counselor will give me the skills and finances to make a bigger difference. Philanthropy will be a large branch of whatever work I do. My overall goal is to create an organization of counselors that enter into broken systems to provide emotional support and accountability to key-players in our communities so they can serve with self-awareness and integrity. I know that I cannot save the world, but if I can release others to perform effectively in their roles, then collectively more individuals, families, and communities will be changed forever.

I resonate with the sentiment that we live in an age of "information overload". I have been discerning with my online presence because I do not seek to "add to the noise". The only reason I would commit to posting online content is if it was something of substance. The substance that I believe is worth passing on is information that addresses real-life issues. As a podcaster, I strive to allow others to tell their stories on my platform. I believe the human experience is meaningful, eclectic, and diverse. In a world where we can say anything, I believe it is more powerful to cultivate listening. We are provided with many opportunities to learn from others online, but are we really taking the time to HEAR what they are saying? Are we taking the time to VALUE individuals that may or maybe not be like us? My hope is that by creating a platform for listening, we will all become more empathetic, slow to react, open to the experiences of others, and inspired to build meaningful connections in our communities. You can find episodes of my podcast, That Really Happened, here: https://anchor.fm/thatreallyhappened

I remember being depressed as early as fourth grade. I would write poems and stare at myself in the mirror wondering if there was more to life than the chaos within my home. I endured violence from an early age. I grew up feeling emotionally neglected and alone. I was bullied from an early age and never felt secure growing up. My brother had serious mental health issues that were "louder" than mine, so while my family rushed to his aid, I suffered in silence. Confused, unguided, traumatized- I moved from Ohio to Pennsylvania at the tender age of 14. I was excited about the fresh start but quickly got mixed up in impulsive and risky behavior. Looking back, I was desperate for attention and validation. Around the age of 16, I had a revelation that the trajectory of my life was in a fast and downward spiral from everything I imagined for myself. Most importantly, I remembered the faith that was ignited within me from the early age of nine. That became the constant source of hope and rebirth as I waded through the depths of my childhood pain. I began attending counseling once an anxiety disorder became a hindrance to my social life, grades, and physical health. This is where the "work" of healing began, but it wasn't until I was 19, after an intense break-up that I realized in a counseling session that I had guarded myself so much from my pain that I didn't even know myself anymore. That counselor sat with me for an hour while I sobbed into my hands and the next week she read me a children's book called "You Are Special". Healing tears flowed from my eyes and washed over my hardened heart as I believed for the first time that I mattered. It has been eight years since those sacred sessions and I am experiencing life's beauty in a way that I couldn't have imagined back then. I want to become a Licensed Professional Counselor to provide a listening ear and a healing atmosphere for others in their brokenness.