I am a Licensed Clinical Social Worker and currently serve as the Deputy Director of the Army Reserve Psychological Health Program. I’ve dedicated my career to supporting military service members through some of their most difficult psychological battles, including PTSD, combat loss, and suicide prevention. My passion for mental health comes from both professional experience and personal understanding. Mental illness has affected people close to me, shaping my awareness of how silent and isolating those struggles can be. I’ve seen how depression and anxiety can impact a person’s ability to function day-to-day, how trauma can fracture a sense of identity, and how stigma can keep people from reaching out when they need help the most. These experiences have made me deeply empathetic and have driven me to be the kind of support I once wished others had. Within my own family, mental health challenges have sometimes been an unspoken struggle. Like many families, we have had to navigate moments where mental illness created tension, confusion, or fear. Witnessing loved ones wrestle with emotional pain has shown me the importance of compassion, patience, and the power of timely intervention. It also fuels my commitment to break down barriers and stigma so that families can find support without shame or judgment. My work in the military has only deepened this perspective. I’ve sat with soldiers who were moments away from giving up, and I’ve listened to the stories of those carrying immense emotional burdens while still showing up for duty. I’ve provided acute crisis care during deployments, including during the withdrawal from Afghanistan, and those moments reminded me that mental illness doesn’t discriminate—no one is immune. These personal and professional encounters have strengthened my belief that mental health care should be treated with the same urgency and compassion as physical health. I do this work because I don’t want anyone—soldier or civilian—to feel alone in their pain. My future goals include continuing to advocate for mental health at the organizational level, expanding access to care, and helping create environments where people feel safe to be vulnerable. I believe that by sharing our stories and supporting each other, we can create real change—for individuals, families, and communities alike. I am committed to advancing education, improving policies, and promoting mental health awareness in both military and civilian communities to foster healing and resilience. Mental health is incredibly important to me and has been the driving factor for pursuing higher education.

Throughout my career, I have been committed to helping others navigate the complexities of mental health—especially within the military community. As a Licensed Clinical Social Worker and Deputy Director of the Army Reserve Psychological Health Program, I support service members facing trauma, grief, and crisis. I specialize in combat loss, suicide prevention, and PTSD care, and have provided critical mental health support during some of the most challenging times, including the withdrawal from Afghanistan. My approach is rooted in compassion and connection. I work to ensure that soldiers feel seen, heard, and supported—often in moments when they are at their most vulnerable. Whether I’m conducting crisis interventions, training leadership on how to recognize signs of emotional distress, or helping someone navigate the long road of recovery from trauma, I aim to provide not just clinical care, but a sense of safety and belonging. I believe no one should feel alone in their pain. Looking ahead, my studies will allow me to expand my impact from individual care to organizational change. I plan to use my education to strengthen behavioral health programs within the military and beyond. I want to help design systems that are trauma-informed, culturally competent, and accessible to those who need them most. Additionally, I’m passionate about reducing stigma and encouraging open conversations about mental health, especially in environments where vulnerability is often seen as weakness. In my future career, I hope to mentor new clinicians, shape mental health policy, and advocate for resources that support the emotional well-being of service members, veterans, and their families. Whether I’m working one-on-one or at the strategic level, my goal remains the same: to create a culture where emotional support is not just available—it’s prioritized. Helping others heal is more than my profession—it’s my purpose.

I chose the field of behavioral health—specifically clinical social work—because I’ve always believed in the power of human connection to heal. From an early age, I was drawn to understanding how people cope with pain, trauma, and loss, and how the right support at the right time can be life-changing. That conviction deepened as I began working with military service members, where I witnessed firsthand the often-invisible psychological toll of service, combat, and transition. It became clear to me that mental health is not a luxury—it is a necessity, especially for those who dedicate their lives to protecting others. As a Licensed Clinical Social Worker and now Deputy Director of the Army Reserve Psychological Health Program, I specialize in combat loss, suicide prevention, and PTSD care. My experiences during the withdrawal from Afghanistan—providing acute crisis intervention and trauma support—strengthened my resolve to pursue this path. I chose this field because I saw how many soldiers suffer in silence, how stigma prevents them from seeking help, and how often their pain goes unrecognized until it's too late. I wanted to change that—to be someone who could create safe, judgment-free spaces for healing and recovery. Pursuing an advanced degree is the next step in that mission. I’m committed to improving how the military understands, addresses, and responds to psychological stressors and trauma among its personnel. Through continued research and leadership training, I hope to influence behavioral health policy, enhance clinical programming, and educate Army leaders on how to identify and respond to signs of mental distress within their ranks. My goal is not just to provide one-on-one care, but to help shape a military culture that values mental health as much as physical readiness. In the future, I plan to use my degree to expand my impact at the organizational level as I see the biggest impact within the military population I currently serve. I aim to bridge clinical practice and policy—developing research-informed strategies that reduce suicide risk, increase resilience, and ensure accessible, stigma-free care for service members and their families. I also want to mentor the next generation of military mental health professionals, helping them navigate the complex emotional terrain of this work with both skill and heart. Ultimately, I chose this field because I believe no one should feel alone in their pain. With this degree, I intend to continue building systems, relationships, and communities that reflect that belief in action.

The military has fundamentally transformed how I view both myself and my country. When I first began working within the military community, I understood service in the abstract—something honorable and essential, but somewhat removed from my personal experience. That changed when I deployed during the withdrawal from Afghanistan. Providing acute crisis care to soldiers in the midst of such a high-stakes operation brought the emotional, psychological, and human cost of military service into sharp focus. I began to see the military not as an institution, but as a community of people—people who carry invisible wounds, extraordinary burdens, and often go unseen in their suffering. Through my work as a Licensed Clinical Social Worker, I have specialized in combat loss and suicide prevention. These are not just clinical areas of interest—they are deeply personal commitments. I have sat across from soldiers who are battling the weight of trauma, moral injury, and isolation. I have listened to the stories of those struggling to find meaning after loss, and I’ve stood beside leaders trying to navigate how best to care for their troops in a culture where vulnerability is often misunderstood as weakness. These encounters have profoundly shaped my sense of self and my professional identity. Before my involvement with the military, I saw myself as a mental health provider—trained, competent, and compassionate. But working with service members has deepened that identity. I’ve learned that being present in the moment of someone else’s crisis is not just about offering a diagnosis or treatment plan—it’s about bearing witness. It’s about validating pain, building trust, and helping people reconnect to a sense of purpose when all they feel is despair. The military taught me how to show up more fully for others, but also how to show up for myself. I’ve become more resilient, more grounded, and more committed to leading with empathy. The military also changed how I view leadership. In this environment, leadership is not measured by rank or formality—it’s measured by who steps up in hard moments, who listens, and who creates space for others to heal. I’ve watched soldiers and leaders advocate for one another, stay late to check in on a struggling peer, and quietly do the emotional labor of keeping their units together. That has inspired me to lead in the same way—through presence, consistency, and compassion. My view of the country has evolved as well. Before my deployment, I saw America as a nation defined by values—freedom, service, unity. I still believe in those values, but I now see how they are often tested. I’ve witnessed the real challenges that service members face upon returning home: barriers to mental health care, stigma around psychological struggles, and a culture that doesn’t always make space for vulnerability. At the same time, I’ve seen the best of this country in the people who serve it—diverse in background and belief, yet united by a common purpose. Their stories have made me more aware of both the promises and the shortcomings of our national identity. The military has also changed how I relate to people in general. It has shown me the power of connection—how a conversation, a check-in, or a moment of shared understanding can make all the difference. I’ve learned that mental wellness is not just a clinical goal but a cultural one. We have to normalize help-seeking, reduce stigma, and create environments where people feel safe enough to be honest about their struggles. These lessons have stayed with me outside of uniform too, shaping how I show up in my community, my relationships, and my broader sense of purpose.