Swimming has given me more than I could ever put into words. It has given me confidence, lifelong friendships, leadership opportunities, and a second family. It has also shown me just how broken the system can be for the athletes who dedicate their lives to it. That is why I believe I am exactly the kind of athlete Speed League Swimming was built for—not because of the races I have won, but because I want to leave this sport better than I found it.
One of the biggest moments that shaped me happened during COVID. My family switched LSC’s from Illinois to Wisconsin, simply so my sisters and I could continue competing. Every day, practice consisted of my sisters, another family with two boys, and no coach on deck. We trained because we chose to, not because anyone was making us. We traveled to meets with no coach, no teammates, and no one telling us to keep going when things got hard.
At the time, I questioned why I was still swimming. It would have been easy to quit. Looking back, I am incredibly thankful that I didn't. Those months taught me how to motivate myself when nobody was watching. They taught me that success is earned, not given. They also gave my family friendships that will last a lifetime. Somewhere during that experience, swimming stopped being something I did and became something I loved.
After COVID, another defining moment came during my senior year of high school when I won the Illinois state championship in the 100 butterfly.
Ironically, I had never even made an A final at the state meet before. I had built a reputation as someone who always swam faster in finals than in prelims, but in swimming that isn't enough. My B-final swims would have earned podium finishes if they had happened in the A final, but that is not how our sport works.
Going into my final state meet, I was seeded third. The two girls ahead of me were better sprinters than I was. I was a 200 butterfly swimmer, not a pure 100 swimmer. I remember deciding that if it was my last chance, I had nothing to lose. I went for it.
It ended up being the best back half race of my life. I won the race, earned my first Winter Junior Nationals cut, and watched my coach jump up and down in celebration—something I had never seen him do before. When I walked over, he smiled, patted me on the shoulder, and said, "Welcome to the 0.1%."
That moment changed how I saw myself. It wasn't about finally believing I was talented enough. It was about realizing that I belonged because I had earned it. Whenever I doubt myself, I still think back to those words and remind myself that hard work has a way of proving people—including yourself—wrong.
Today, I am a Division I swimmer at the University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee, conference champion, school record holder, team captain, athlete mentor, and founder of Next Level Athletics. On paper, it sounds like success. Behind the scenes, it looks much different.
I work a full-time job and two part-time jobs while competing as a Division I athlete because rent, groceries, gas, and everyday life do not stop for swimmers. I am incredibly blessed to have earned a full-tuition scholarship. Without it, I genuinely do not know how I would afford college. I had opportunities to attend larger programs, but doing so would have meant taking on debt simply to keep swimming.
That is the reality for far too many high-level swimmers.
We ask athletes to dedicate countless hours every week to training, recovery, travel, and competition. We celebrate Olympians every four years, then largely forget about them afterward. We expect excellence while providing very few opportunities to build sustainable careers in the sport we claim to value.
One of my athlete-mentees, Parker, once looked at me and said, "I want to be like you."
As much as that meant to me, it also broke my heart.
She sees the medals, the records, and the excitement. She does not see the financial stress, the burnout, the injuries, or the constant balancing act behind the scenes. She should not have to choose between chasing greatness and being able to pay her bills someday. No young swimmer should.
That realization is one of the reasons I founded Next Level Athletics. I wanted to create the opportunities I wish I had growing up. Recruiting often highlights only the athletes already standing at the very top, while countless hardworking swimmers are overlooked simply because they developed later or lacked the right exposure. I wanted current college athletes to mentor younger swimmers, provide honest recruiting guidance, and help bridge the gap between club and collegiate swimming. I saw a need that wasn't being filled, and I decided that if someone was going to fix it, why couldn't it be me?
That same belief is why I believe Speed League Swimming is needed right now.
Swimming should not demand Olympic-level commitment while offering so few professional opportunities in return. It should be possible to continue competing after college without wondering how you are going to pay rent. Elite swimmers deserve careers, visibility, financial stability, and a league that allows fans to follow them beyond one championship meet every few years.
I don't just want to race in Speed League Swimming. I want to help build what it represents.
I want to compete at the highest level while using my platform to advocate for athletes, mentor the next generation, and prove that swimmers deserve the same opportunities as athletes in other major sports. If a young swimmer tells me they want to be like me ten years from now, I want that statement to mean they can chase excellence without sacrificing financial security or their future.
That is the future I believe Speed League Swimming can create.
And that is the future I want to help build.