I was accepted into my graduate program in clinical mental health counseling at the University of Oklahoma at 41 years of age. It was not something I would have believed had you told me at 22, or even 30, that I would be pursuing a master's degree in middle age. I would also not have predicted that it would be in counseling and that I would have a 3-year-old son starting his own educational endeavor in preschool at the same time. But like so many things in life, just because something is unexpected does not mean that it is not exactly the right thing to do. Like many people, my first experience with mental health counseling was as a client. I was struggling with motherhood and anxiety, and the pandemic was taking a toll on me like it was taking a toll on so many worldwide. When my therapist confirmed my suspicion that I was suffering from OCD, and also validated my depression, I felt a weight lifting from my shoulders. So many things in my life made sense when I viewed the situation through the eyes of anxiety and OCD. Why did I feel so much stress as a child when I forgot my library book? Why did my mind get stuck on extreme scenarios so often, draining my days of hours wasted on pointless rumination? It was not a normal amount of worry; it was an exaggerated devotion to mental checking and catastrophizing. My mind was never in the present moment, it was always replaying a past embarrassment or worrying about some future disaster. It was not a life that was well lived. My counselor helped me in a way that I can never fully thank her for: she helped me to help myself. Mental health counseling is not easy, and it is not simple. It is not a session of question and answer, it is not a place to find quick solutions and advice. Anyone that says counseling is a waste of time must not have had a good counselor, or else they did not put in the personal effort necessary to fully benefit. In other words, the client is the one that needs to make the change, and they must be willing to be open and vulnerable, and they must be willing to change. But they often need guidance, and I hope to do this for others in the same way that it was done for me. I believe change is always possible; if it weren't, I wouldn't be here today, entering my sixth semester of my master's program, preparing for my real-world practicum experience, and well on my way to achieving licensure. It has not been easy, but in the same way I took a leap of faith when I first sought out a qualified counselor, I am taking another leap by getting my education. As a middle-aged parent with a young son, this was not an easy decision. I want to be saving for his future, not further investing in mine. But in a way, by investing in my career I am investing in his because I will be doing something I feel passionate about. I will be able to model positive mental health, and I will always encourage him to be open and brave about his successes and failures. A little extra cash would be helpful in this journey, but I am confident that I have made the right choice either way.

For most of my life, I have been good at making hard decisions. That’s not to say that I haven’t spent countless hours agonizing over insignificant everyday situations, but rather I can be very focused on achieving goals. I think that’s why my decision to become a counselor took me by surprise. Depending on your definition of middle age I am either rapidly approaching or right in the thick of it. I have long thought that my education was complete. Even so, something shifted over the last few years, and the thought grew in my mind, and I started considering that maybe there was more for me to learn. I started contemplating grad school a couple of years ago. Like a lot of mothers, I struggled with the decision to go back to work after my son was born. I wanted to be home with him, but I also didn’t want to walk away from a good job, as that would likely greatly derail my career. The decision was soon made for me when the business closed, and we were all laid off. In a way I was glad—I was happy to be a stay-at-home mom for a while. But I was also left with a sense of unease. I had been working in the food industry, but I often felt great ambivalence about my work—my salary was decent, but I didn’t like the pressure and I often felt unfulfilled. So when the job just disappeared I was somewhat relieved. My son’s birth was very difficult and six months later my body was not fully healed. I needed rest and time off. But too much time off meant lots of time to think—of what comes next, what kind of career I want, what kind of work is compatible with being a mother. And then the pandemic hit, and we all had to rearrange our plans. I was fortunate; my husband was able to work from home and I was taking care of our son, so we didn’t have to worry about daycare. Social distancing was emotionally draining but easy for us to do. But it dragged on, complicating the stress of motherhood, postpartum anxiety, joblessness, and career uncertainty. As time went on another virus started spreading in my brain, though I did not realize it at the time—OCD. All my life I’ve experienced anxiety, but only recently I’ve been able to name it as such. I started reading articles about anxiety and many of my quirks pointed specifically to OCD, such as a need for symmetry, counting, and checking: things that I had done for most of my life and never considered strange or debilitating. My worst OCD symptom was rumination and intrusive thoughts, which only got worse as the pandemic dragged on. By the spring of 2021, I was fully depressed. I wasn’t sleeping or eating well. I woke up to intrusive thoughts and my heart racing before I even opened my eyes. I was going through the motions of living but with a heavy burden on my shoulders only I could see. I finally decided to seek out therapy as a last resort, and it was a decision that turned out to be both life-changing and lifesaving. Luckily I connected with a counselor I liked on my first try. She was a mother herself and listened with empathy to my situation. Most importantly, she offered validation that my anxiety and OCD were real and that it was causing me physical illness. As our sessions progressed, I began to feel like myself again. I found therapy fascinating, and it made me want to become a counselor. I realized I’d need a degree and a license, and I was hesitant. Am I starting over again? But you never really start over in life, you carry all your experiences with you. I have worked many jobs and tried many things and I think this is what would make me a great counselor; I can relate to people from all walks of life because I’ve walked many paths. I wanted an online program in Virginia, close to my home in Richmond, but I struggled to find a degree program that would accommodate my needs. Eventually, I enrolled in the online program in clinical mental health counseling through the University of Oklahoma. It was a surprise to me and my family; I had only driven through Oklahoma on the way to California. But that is the great thing about our online world, so many things are accessible that perhaps weren't just a few years ago. Currently, I am in my third semester, rapidly approaching the halfway point. It has been challenging and at times overwhelming, juggling part-time work, reading hundreds of pages and completing assignments, and parenting a preschool-aged son. But I am proud of myself for making it this far, and I plan to see it through. I have always wanted to help people, and with the current mental health crisis in this country becoming a counselor seems like an excellent goal. Previously I served in the Peace Corps in Honduras, which was an experience that both changed me permanently and challenged my mental health to the point of nearly breaking. I served in a small community, hundreds of miles from the nearest city, and I experienced loneliness, countless humiliations, and miscommunications. There were sticky situations that veered just on the edge of danger, like the time a drunk man wandered into my home and wouldn’t leave. Or the time some men poisoned my dog because they said he was killing chickens. (He wasn’t.) Or the time an acquaintance offered me a ride to town and casually showed me his loaded handgun. I survived these instances, but they left their mark on me, as trauma does. I never reported anything in any official capacity. Some things I’ve never spoken of at all. I endured a bout with dengue, which they call "bonebreak fever" for a reason: you really do feel like your bones are breaking. They don't, but sometimes bones aren't the only thing that can break. Illness, physical or mental, can break your spirit or your heart in ways you can never prepare for. Without support from family, friends, and good therapists or counselors, some people may never be able to repair the fracture. There is still a great need for mental health professionals, and I feel called to join them. I am excited to learn more about OCD, anxiety, new treatments, and what we can do to help anyone who is struggling. I can see myself working in a clinic, or private practice, helping people by listening with empathy and withholding judgment, doing for others what was done for me. At the end of 2021 and into 2022 I completed a volunteer assignment at Fort Pickett in Blackstone, VA, where Afghan refugees awaited permanent placement in the US. Working with a translator I led information sessions on basic life in the US. After the US withdrew troops a huge number of Afgahis were left in a very dangerous situation, and refuge in our country was offered to many, but not all. They were sent on planes with only a few possessions, many leaving behind family or pets, taking a leap of faith that life in the US would be better, with no guarantee that that would be so. After the first session ended the translator said she liked me and the way I conducted the lesson with warmth and patience. This took me by surprise, as I had felt that she had done most of the work; I had barely done anything at all, just clicked through a somewhat dated PowerPoint presentation on how to get to work and how important it is to pay your rent on time. But she picked up on my desire to welcome, my humility, my open mind and my open heart. I have often felt invisible in a crowd, and so I always try to include everyone when I am teaching or leading a group. Sometimes all it takes is one kind person to acknowledge you. To simply say “I see you. I am here and I see you.” And that’s how I imagine I will be as a counselor. To meet each person where they are, with compassion and empathy. There is no indication that the mental health crisis in this country is anywhere near to being resolved. I have no doubt that when I complete my degree I will find plenty of clients who need my help, and I will be glad to help them on their journey, in whatever way that may be. To honor their humanity, to sit with them through their grief, anger, and guilt. To let them know they are not invisible. To say “I’m here. And I see you.”

I was accepted into my graduate program in clinical mental health counseling at the University of Oklahoma at 41 years of age. It was not something I would have believed had you told me at 22, or even 30, that I would be pursuing a master's degree in middle age. I would also not have predicted that it would be in counseling and that I would have a 3-year-old son starting his own educational endeavor in preschool at the same time. But like so many things in life, just because something is unexpected does not mean that it is not exactly the right thing to do. Like many people, my first experience with mental health counseling was as a client. I was struggling with motherhood and anxiety, and the pandemic was taking a toll on me like it was taking a toll on so many worldwide. When my therapist confirmed my suspicion that I was suffering from OCD, and also validated my depression, I felt a weight lifting from my shoulders. So many things in my life made sense when I viewed the situation through the eyes of anxiety and OCD. Why did I feel so much stress as a child when I forgot my library book? Why did my mind get stuck on extreme scenarios so often, draining my days of hours wasted on pointless rumination? It was not a normal amount of worry, it was an exaggerated devotion to mental checking and catastrophizing. My mind was never in the present moment, it was always replaying a past embarrassment or worrying about some future disaster. It was not a life that was well lived. My counselor helped me in a way that I can never fully thank her for: she helped me to help myself. Mental health counseling is not easy, and it is not simple. It is not a session of question and answer, it is not a place to find quick answers and advice. Anyone that says counseling is a waste of time must have not had a good counselor, or else they did not put in the personal effort necessary to fully benefit. In other words, the client is the one that needs to make the change, and they must be willing to be open and vulnerable, and they must be willing to change. But they often need guidance, and I hope to do this for others in the same way that it was done for me. I believe change is always possible; if it weren't, I wouldn't be here today, entering my third semester of my master's program, well on my way to achieving licensure. It has not been easy, but in the same way I took a leap of faith when I first sought out a qualified counselor, I am taking another leap by getting my education. As a middle-aged parent with a young son, this was not an easy decision. I want to be saving for his future, not further investing in mine. But in a way, by investing in my career I am investing in his because I will be doing something I feel passionate about. I will be able to model positive mental health, and I will always encourage him to be open and brave about his successes and failures. A little extra cash would be helpful in this journey, but I am confident that I have made the right choice either way.

My first experience with mental health counseling was, like many people, as a client. I came to therapy later in life, as motherhood, career uncertainty, and an ongoing pandemic caused my anxiety to spike. Seeking out a qualified mental health professional seemed to be the only thing I hadn’t tried to find relief from my constant worries. With the help of my counselor, I was able to better understand my own mind and I realized that what I had always called shyness or introversion was actually anxiety, specifically OCD. It was like a light bulb being turned on for the first time. So many of my life experiences made much more sense when viewed through the lens of anxiety—why so many simple interactions felt so difficult, and why my mind often got stuck in a cycle of rumination. This is why education is so important, not just about mental health, but also the awareness of the opportunities and deficits in our society. I have been fortunate to have access to a quality education—I have degrees in the humanities and fine arts, and I was also able to complete a technical program in culinary education. Having such a broad and eclectic educational background has not only allowed me to pursue varied employment, working in both education and outreach and research and development, but it has also given me a better understanding of people from many walks of life, which is crucial to mental health counseling. For as long as I can remember I have been interested in outreach, and mental health counseling aligns with my desire to help others. My first experience with volunteering with underserved communities was back in high school when I worked as a tutor and mentor to a young Cuban refugee to assist in his efforts to learn English and acclimate into his new community. Since then I have worked as a teacher, tutor, and manager, with experience in this country as well as in Honduras, where I served with the Peace Corps. With PC I worked extensively with doctors at the field clinic, not only as a translator but also as an assistant in conducting exams and checking in patients. I have always been interested in multiculturalism and have continued to find ways to reach out to new members of the community. From the end of 2021 through early 2022 I worked as a volunteer with Afghan refugees at Fort Pickett as they awaited resettlement as part of Operation Allies Welcome. I was a translator and teacher of cultural classes, but I could see that many of the people would have greatly benefited from mental health counseling as well. I am currently pursuing a master's degree in clinical mental health counseling at the University of Oklahoma, while my son is going to preschool for the first time, and my ultimate goal is to become a licensed counselor in the state of Virginia. Throughout the course of the pandemic, I was made aware of the gaps in our mental health care system and like many people, I began to reevaluate my own career goals. I believe this degree is essential for my pursuit of licensure, and while higher education can be costly, it is a worthwhile investment in myself as well as in my community. I believe I already have the empathy and the right temperament to become a counselor, and with the right education, I can make this goal a reality.