I have wanted to be a nurse since I was five years old because of my love for helping people – especially children. At the age of 10, I watched my mother take care of a young girl with Shaken Baby Syndrome and immediately identified that I wanted to be a Neonatal Nurse Practitioner (NNP) in Level 2 and 3 of the NICU. After specifying what specialty of nursing I desired, it has become critical to surround myself with environments that fulfill my purpose and passion in life. I have held continuous jobs in a hospital setting – using these employment opportunities as steppingstones toward becoming an NNP while I achieved my nursing degree. I have worked in housekeeping, as a receptionist and office clerk for an OB/GYN clinic, held a position in registration, and recently been accepted into a program dedicated to education on becoming a technical assistant in a hospital setting. I found volunteering to be the best source for assisting children. I began helping a non-profit organization called Rays for Rare. This group is dedicated to helping families with medically fragile children that need additional assistance, education, resources, and a community to lean on when supporting the life of a child with a rare and debilitating disease. The group was started by the founder whom is a mother of a son who died with the rare disease. After recognizing a lack of support for families struggling with medically fragile children and rare diseases, she started a non-profit organization to fill the gap. Volunteering for Rays for Rare targets both passions of being a nurse and helping medically dependent children. As a group of volunteers, we set up family friendly events that compensate the needs of disabled children and their families. We also provide holiday baskets and fundraising events to ease the financial burden that is coupled with excessive hospital bills. Annual fundraisers such as the “Sunshine Gala” provide community awareness as well as an opportunity for donations from large corporations and small businesses via silent and live auctions. Family opportunities like “Merry and Bright” create a Christmas experience equipped with Christmas lights, shopping, pictures with Santa, and food that encompasses the holiday spirit with special attention to the needs of medically fragile children. I have offered over 50 hours of volunteering to Rays for Rare and intend to use my integration with such a powerful entity to benefit many more families when I am a nurse in the NICU. Activities like making cotton candy at the “Heroes in Plain Sight” carnival event, or face painting with zero experience but gratification from all patrons, opens my heart and eyes to the simplicity of life. Events like these create moments for the families in the organization to live life to the fullest despite their children’s special needs. Many parents of these families tell stories of their providers as the heart and soul behind their experience with the NICU and extended hospital stays of their young ones. My heart is full and longing as the parents retell the importance of their medical staff and encourage me to continue on my path to eventually create a stronger bridge between hospitals and the Rays for Rare organization. The goals of this nonprofit group surround around creating a community and like-minded connection with others going through tough times or experiencing untold stories. Being a part of Rays for Rare has broadened my desires for the future and given me additional goals to accomplish as I rise rank through the nursing world in the NICU.

I am passionate about several things in my life – volleyball, God, singing, nursing, animals, education, organization, etc. However, I know my truest passion to be children. I have always been close with kids and felt the importance of their vulnerability. I see it as the job of adults and older aged people to take care of children, to protect them. I have wanted to be a mother since I was very young, always helping with the babies at day care and assisting the caregivers with the other children. I like watching kids, helping them grow, teaching them, preparing food, and interacting with them. When I was 10 my mother helped a young girl with Shaken Baby Syndrome. I immediately fell in love with the idea of becoming a Neonatal Nurse Practitioner (NNP) with a specialty in Levels 2 and 3 of the NICU for the more medically fragile children. Interacting with children keeps me determined to achieve my dreams. After specifying what specialty of nursing I desired, it has become critical to surround myself with environments that fulfill my purpose and passion in life. I have held continuous jobs in a hospital setting – using these employment opportunities as steppingstones toward becoming an NNP while I achieved my nursing degree. I have worked in housekeeping, as a receptionist and office clerk for an OB/GYN clinic, held a position in registration, and recently been accepted into a program dedicated to education on becoming a technical assistant in a hospital setting. In every situation I thrive most and feel the most accomplished when interacting with pediatrics. Two years ago, I took a position with a church family as a nanny to focus on school. It was one of my absolute favorite jobs thus far solely for the purpose of interacting day in and out with two rambunctious kids. I began to appreciate the developmental stages of children and learned how to approach each differently for the best results. Around that time I also found volunteering to be a great source for assisting children. I began helping a non-profit organization called Rays for Rare. This group is dedicated to helping families with medically fragile children that need additional assistance, education, resources, and a community to lean on when supporting the life of a child with a rare and debilitating disease. Volunteering for them targets both passions of being a nurse and helping medically dependent children. As a group of volunteers, we set up family friendly events that compensate the needs of disabled children and their families. We also provide holiday baskets and fundraising events to ease the financial burden that is coupled with excessive hospital bills. Remaining passionate about assisting kids has kept my goals of becoming a nurse at the forefront. I find positive elements in every set back, such as the necessity of repeating Anatomy and Physiology due to them being over 7 years old when I re-entered college, as a chance to dedicate more attention and a deeper understanding of the topic. I was able to complete some clinical rounds with a NICU nurse when repeating a class. When my best friend relapsed after 14 years of sobriety – I began to understand a deeper and alternative side of addiction despite my requirement to take an educational break to assist him with rehabilitation. The more experience I obtain – whether it is nannying, volunteering, or clinical rounds – I am becoming a better nurse and constantly feeding my passion which keeps me motivated and aligned with my goal to become a Neonatal Nurse Practitioner.

Ella May has collected numerous names over the past 11 years of life – Elly, Eleanor, Ellis, Lil Mama, El, Ella Norris, Digger Dog, and so forth. The puppy she is today, is far different than the one I saved when she was just a few months old. The first time I heard her crying bark was in the middle of summer, amidst a down pour of rain. I followed the sound to the backyard of a neighbor a few doors down. I peered over their six-foot-tall fence and saw white fur with black contrast patches. She had no shelter, was only a few months old, tied up to the leg of the deck for who knows how long. I saw no food or water, so I let myself in through the back and took her. I left a note for the owners, informing them when they got home, they could collect her if they wished but I was concerned with the weather conditions and her lack of food or water. As I carried her home, she nestled into me, and I noticed her extreme malnourished body. I could see every vertebra of her spine, both hip curves, and the lines of each rib. Less than a week later I heard the same cry for help and ventured back to the neighbor’s yard. As soon as I peaked over the fence she got up and began to wag her tail so hard it knocked her over. I let myself back once again only to find her tied down with a thick metal link chain and a ham bone covered in ants next to the same deck without shelter as before. I took her again and let her sleep with me until her family once again remembered her existence. Weeks later Ella was spotted running down a main road in town and almost hit by a car. I collected her once more, but this time decided I would get proper custody of her. I brought Ella to the pound the next day and informed them I didn’t want her to be released that I would pay for her rightful paperwork immediately. After being spayed and a short stay at the pound for observation, Ella came home with me. As a teenager I was acting on impulse but also deep seeded knowledge of right and wrong. I could have gotten in trouble for trespassing, stolen property, or several other things – however, I knew that I was the only hope for Ella. Animals are a blessing and our responsibility to care for them. Dogs teach us unfaltering love, forgiveness, wholesomeness, trust, and vulnerability. They aren’t to be abused but to be learned from. Ella has continued to be the best companion I have ever owned. Unfortunately, Ella was involved in a dog fight 8 years ago. However, she has suffered no love loss for other dogs or humans. She reminds me daily to forgive and be patient. Ella has also become a companion dog for my husband in his time of relapse and rehabilitation. Ella knows when he is struggling and keeps him busy with laughter, tug-o-war, and requests for truck rides. Her health is beyond expectation at near 11 years old. She is mistaken for a puppy regularly because she still obtains her agility, spunky attitude, and playful spirit. She reminds me that life is short, undetermined but always enjoyable. As much as I tell her story, I know that at the end of the day, it is she who saved me.

Since the age of five I have wanted to be a nurse. It is my passion to help people no matter what their need is. I have always found love in learning and the more I complete the more I desire. My mother helped a girl with Shaken Baby Syndrome when I was 10 years old. I decided in that moment I wanted to help babies with Fetal Alcohol Syndrome or those born addicted to drugs. I was compassionate with the most vulnerable population and felt strong attraction to assisting babies and children. As I grew older and found out more about the field, I determined I wanted to work in levels two and three of the NICU – created for newborns that need more attention due to complications of growth, addiction, or premature arrival. Originally, I found interest solely in the assistance and care of the babies; however recently I have developed more sympathy for the parents involved in substance abuse. My best friend came to me two years ago after relapsing following 14 years of sobriety. I decided to follow my heart and stand at his side as he rediscovered sobriety. He asked that I take over his mortgage, care for his belongings, and begin acting as his Power of Attorney. This was a lot of responsibility and unknown territory to a 27-year-old. I accepted and was immediately thrust into a dark world. I came home several times to the back door being broke in, things being misplaced or missing all together, and numerous visitors demanding specific high-priced property that I knew was my best friends. I knew my best friend would never ask me for help unless he really needed it. However, I reflect on my experience and recognize that through these interactions and during the process of helping him, I have gained an understanding of addiction that you cannot find in textbooks. Addiction is not an easy feat to overcome, and to do it alone is nearly impossible. I want to use my encounters to create a new identity of allyship among those struggling with addiction. I consider my best friend my hero. It took a lot of bravery and courage to approach me with this overwhelming secret. I have never used drugs or alcohol, let alone had to walk beside someone struggling with addiction. Despite losing the foundation he built during sobriety, he has remained positive. He always sees the brightside in all situations and has the perseverance that remains undefeatable. My best friend keeps me motivated to pursue my dreams and become an unstoppable nurse. He has given me the confidence and determination to overcome any obstacle, just as he has. I have witnessed a lot of prejudice and mistreatment because of my best friend’s background. People assume addicts want to live in the life they are surrounded by, however, nine out of ten don’t. Even worse, people assume because I have stepped in to help him – I must use drugs myself. I continue to remain free of any drug or alcohol use, and the further we move down this path the more solidified I am in my choice to not try substances of any type. After witnessing a deeper side into addiction my outlook has become more gracious. I no longer see addiction as a choice, but rather an illness and have furthered my educational desire to include assistance for parents of drug and alcohol addicted children. My intent is to use my experience to shape my future and become a better, more versed and understanding nurse.

Since the age of five I have wanted to be a nurse. It is my passion to help people no matter what their need is. I have always found love in learning and the more I complete the more I desire. My mother helped a girl with Shaken Baby Syndrome when I was 10 years old. I decided in that moment I wanted to help babies with Fetal Alcohol Syndrome or those born addicted to drugs. I was compassionate with the most vulnerable population and felt strong attraction to assisting babies and children. As I grew older and found out more about the field, I determined I wanted to work in levels two and three of the NICU – created for newborns that need more attention due to complications of growth, addiction, or premature arrival. Originally, I found interest solely in the assistance and care of the babies; however recently I have developed more sympathy for the parents involved in substance abuse. My best friend came to me two years ago after relapsing following 14 years of sobriety. I decided to follow my heart and stand at his side as he rediscovered sobriety. He asked that I take over his mortgage, care for his belongings, and begin acting as his Power of Attorney. This was a lot of responsibility and unknown territory to a 27-year-old. I accepted and was immediately thrust into a dark world. I came home several times to the back door being broke in, things being misplaced or missing all together, and numerous visitors demanding specific high-priced property that I knew was my best friends. I knew my best friend would never ask me for help unless he really needed it. However, I reflect on my experience and recognize that through these interactions and during the process of helping him, I have gained an understanding of addiction that you cannot find in textbooks. Addiction is not an easy feat to overcome, and to do it alone is nearly impossible. I want to use my encounters to create a new identity of allyship among those struggling with addiction. I have witnessed a lot of prejudice and mistreatment because of my best friend’s background. People assume addicts want to live in the life they are surrounded by, however, nine out of ten don’t. Even worse, people assume because I have stepped in to help him – I must use drugs myself. I continue to remain free of any drug or alcohol use, and the further we move down this path the more solidified I am in my choice to not try substances of any type. After witnessing a deeper side into addiction my outlook has become more gracious. I no longer see addiction as a choice, but rather an illness and have furthered my educational desire to include assistance for parents of drug and alcohol addicted children. My intent is to use my experience to inspire my future and become a better, more versed and understanding nurse.

Since the age of five I have wanted to be a nurse. It is my passion to help people no matter what their need is. I have always found love in learning and the more I complete the more I desire. My mother helped a girl with Shaken Baby Syndrome when I was 10 years old. I decided in that moment I wanted to help babies with Fetal Alcohol Syndrome or those born addicted to drugs. I was compassionate with the most vulnerable population and felt strong attraction to assisting babies and children. As I grew older and found out more about the field, I determined I wanted to work in levels two and three of the NICU – created for newborns that need more attention due to complications of growth, addiction, or premature arrival. Originally, I found interest solely in the assistance and care of the babies; however recently I have developed more sympathy for the parents involved in substance abuse. My best friend came to me two years ago after relapsing following 14 years of sobriety. I decided to follow my heart and stand at his side as he rediscovered sobriety. He asked that I take over his mortgage, care for his belongings, and begin acting as his Power of Attorney. This was a lot of responsibility and unknown territory to a 27-year-old. I accepted and was immediately thrust into a dark world. I came home several times to the back door being broke in, things being misplaced or missing all together, and numerous visitors demanding specific high-priced property that I knew was my best friends. I knew my best friend would never ask me for help unless he really needed it. However, I reflect on my experience and recognize that through these interactions and during the process of helping him, I have gained an understanding of addiction that you cannot find in textbooks. Addiction is not an easy feat to overcome, and to do it alone is nearly impossible. I want to use my encounters to create a new identity of allyship among those struggling with addiction. I have witnessed a lot of prejudice and mistreatment because of my best friend’s background. People assume addicts want to live in the life they are surrounded by, however, nine out of ten don’t. Even worse, people assume because I have stepped in to help him – I must use drugs myself. I continue to remain free of any drug or alcohol use, and the further we move down this path the more solidified I am in my choice to not try substances of any type. After witnessing a deeper side into addiction my outlook has become more gracious. I no longer see addiction as a choice, but rather an illness and have furthered my educational desire to include assistance for parents of drug and alcohol addicted children. My intent is to use my experience to shape my future and become a better, more versed and understanding nurse.

Since the age of five I have wanted to be a nurse. It is my passion to help people no matter what their need is. I have always found love in learning and the more I complete the more I desire. My mother helped a girl with Shaken Baby Syndrome when I was 10 years old. I decided in that moment I wanted to help babies with Fetal Alcohol Syndrome or those born addicted to drugs. I was compassionate with the most vulnerable population and felt strong attraction to assisting babies and children. As I grew older and found out more about the field, I determined I wanted to work in levels two and three of the NICU – created for newborns that need more attention due to complications of growth, addiction, or premature arrival. Originally, I found interest solely in the assistance and care of the babies; however recently I have developed more sympathy for the parents involved in substance abuse. My best friend came to me two years ago after relapsing following 14 years of sobriety. I decided to follow my heart and stand at his side as he rediscovered sobriety. He asked that I take over his mortgage, care for his belongings, and begin acting as his Power of Attorney. This was a lot of responsibility and unknown territory to a 27-year-old. I accepted and was immediately thrust into a dark world. I came home several times to the back door being broke in, things being misplaced or missing all together, and numerous visitors demanding specific high-priced property that I knew was my best friends. I knew my best friend would never ask me for help unless he really needed it. However, I reflect on my experience and recognize that through these interactions and during the process of helping him, I have gained an understanding of addiction that you cannot find in textbooks. Addiction is not an easy feat to overcome, and to do it alone is nearly impossible. I want to use my encounters to create a new identity of allyship among those struggling with addiction. I have witnessed a lot of prejudice and mistreatment because of my best friend’s background. People assume addicts want to live in the life they are surrounded by, however, nine out of ten don’t. Even worse, people assume because I have stepped in to help him – I must use drugs myself. I continue to remain free of any drug or alcohol use, and the further we move down this path the more solidified I am in my choice to not try substances of any type. After witnessing a deeper side into addiction my outlook has become more gracious. I no longer see addiction as a choice, but rather an illness and have furthered my educational desire to include assistance for parents of drug and alcohol addicted children. My intent is to use my experience to shape my future and become a better, more versed and understanding nurse.

I met the Olson family through church but became their nanny after joining and organizing the missions group. Originally it began as a regular babysitting job due to my love for children and strong belief in couples making time to continue dating even after marriage. However, after sharing my desire to be a nurse and background story, the family adopted me as a close family member and began to support me in ways I didn’t even know I needed. Between frequent babysitting gigs and church meetings, the Olsons became aware of my desire to be a Neonatal Nurse Practitioner. The father of the family is an anesthesiologist, and the mother a RN for many years. Both met in Ecuador on a mission but practiced their degrees as missionaries for an extended period of time before moving back to the states. They each had lots of advice and encouragement to keep me on the straight and narrow, but also an understanding that was personal to the journey of nursing school. In January of 2020, I quit my job as a receptionist for the county to allow for clinical hours associated with my new classes in college. I was offered a full-time job as a nanny for their family. Additionally, they gifted me a loan for a car while in school because of their understanding of how hard nursing school is. Both expressed the support of their own families while in nursing school and knew my own single-parent mother was unable to help me financially. They became accustomed to me fighting tooth and nail for my passions and decided to take a leap of faith based of the determination they saw in my actions. When my best friend relapsed after 14 years of sobriety, I took a leave of absence to handle his affairs. During this struggle, I fell into a dark depression that depreciated the value I saw in myself and the impact I had always planned on making in the world. The mother in the Olson family came to my door late at night, cookies in hand, and told me she held no judgement in my leave of absence but wouldn’t let me give up on my dreams. She held my hand and prayed with me as we came up with a plan on how to juggle both important elements in my future. Even though I don’t have the excess time to continue watching the Olson children, the family still checks on me regularly. They always encourage me to keep going and have even offered their home to me when I was re-analyzing my budget and needs for clinicals coupled with a full-time job and expenses. Many times, I have gone over to their home in tears and defeat due to the weight of classes and life coupled together. However, no matter what, I leave their home knowing that my destiny to become a nurse is the goal and achievable. Financially, the Olsons helped me extensively, however, it is with their emotional support that I relied heavily on when things got unbearable. The love the Olsons showed me extended beyond that of a family I attended church with but instead enveloped everything I inspire to be one day. Their caring attitudes and empathetic compassion is the nurse I intend to become and is the limitless amount of love I plan to share with the world. In their support I gained a family, but also a deep understanding of the true definition of caring for one another.

When my best friend came to me in the middle of the night and confessed he had relapsed after 14 years of sobriety, I was scared. I had never been in a situation of loving an addict. I had to become very open and understanding, ask a lot of questions, and make a life altering decision – would I stick with him? Selflessness comes in many shapes and forms. As my best friend looked at me with tears in his eyes waiting for my response, I knew it was going to be a rocky journey with varying levels of sacrifice. I decided to follow my heart and stand at his side as he rediscovered sobriety. He asked that I take over his mortgage, care for his belongings, and begin acting as his Power of Attorney. This was a lot of responsibility and unknown territory to a 27-year-old. I accepted and was immediately thrust into a dark world. I came home several times to the back door being broke in, things being misplaced or missing all together, and numerous visitors demanding specific high-priced property that I knew was my best friends. I was physically assaulted three times in the process of protecting his home and belongings. However, because of our built relationship of trust, love, and consistency – I knew he wouldn’t lead me astray of my own morality, just needed help rediscovering his own. Substance abuse is complex and nothing I have personally ever dabbled in, but I watched it take my best friend and shake his entire life upside down. I continue to travel the journey with him now, fighting for sobriety and getting through the legal complications he acquired during his relapse. In the meantime, I have had to get two fulltime jobs, learned the ins and outs of becoming a Power of Attorney, cleaned and organized his home, made repairs to the inside and outside of the home, as well as support him financially and help with legal aid. It is hard and unknown, but worth every step with the knowledge that his life is bettered. I have witnessed a lot of prejudice and mistreatment because of my best friend’s background. People assume addicts want to live in the life they are surrounded by, however, nine out of ten don’t. Even worse, people assume because I have stepped in to help him – I must use drugs myself. I continue to remain free of any drug or alcohol use, and the further we move down this path the more solidified I am in my choice to not try substances of any type. It took a lot of courage to step outside of my comfort zone and follow my gut that night. I walked into a situation I knew nothing about but followed in blind faith. I knew my best friend would never ask me for help unless he really needed it. Addiction is not an easy feat to overcome, and to do it alone is nearly impossible. After witnessing a deeper side into addiction my outlook has become more gracious. I no longer see addiction as a choice, but rather an illness and have advanced my educational desire to include assistance for parents of drug and alcohol addicted children. I see my experiences and hardships not as failure or misfortune, but instead a way to better develop my identity and create character that helps me make a bigger impact on the world.

I come from a single parent home of a mother with borderline personality disorder and a brother with ADHD, manic bipolar, and suicidal ideology. Living with two family members with mental health diseases caused a lot of instability in my life and attention to be directed towards their conditions instead of my own development. My mother constantly dedicated time to my brother, insisting on his health assistance. She raised us single-handedly after my grandmother died when I was 5 and did the best she could with the limited resources available. Unfortunately, due to her diagnosis as well as a traumatic history and a premature birth, my mother has never been able to financially remain stable. Upon graduation I was heavily dependent on scholarships, merits, and loans to pay for my college education along with two part-time jobs. My mother has struggled with evictions my entire life. When I returned from college after my first year of attendance, she was facing another eviction and I chose to leave school to help her. This prompted the college and loaners to request payback for the thousands of dollars borrowed due to my unenrollment. It took me six years to get back on my feet independently enough to return to college through an online program. I took a second leave of absence when my best friend showed up on my doorstep following a relapse after 14 years of sobriety. He asked that I take over his mortgage, care for his belongings, and begin acting as his Power of Attorney. This required me to move into his home that was 3 cities away from where I began to build my life and had begun to reintegrate school into my daily routine. It took precedence and attention from my degree, studying, and reaching my own goals to better his life. Eventually I realized I could not juggle the responsibility of both and chose to put school on hold until I could build a foundation that would allow for focus on my personal desires. Upon helping him, I was exposed to a new world and most importantly, a view of substance abuse that altered my perception of drug or alcohol users while pregnant. People assume addicts want to live in the life they are surrounded by, however, nine out of ten don’t. Others comment that a child should be enough to make someone stop using, however, without support this is nearly impossible. Although I still am one hundred percent against the actions of substance use while pregnant, I now find importance in the education and direction of the parents that use during pregnancy. My mother obtained her CNA and MA degrees while I was in her household and demonstrated perseverance that I always found inspiring. Despite many obstacles and numerous restarts on my educational journey, my passion has remained strong and intact. Since I was five years old, I wanted to enter the field of nursing. I watched my mother care for a little girl with Shaken Baby Syndrome when I was nearly 10 years old, and I recognized a deep seeded desire to help with babies born in crisis situations – such as drug or alcohol addiction due to the mother using substances while pregnant. I determined at this time I would become a Neonatal Nurse Practitioner. As I currently delve deeper into the world of nursing, I grow more and more fond of the education and want to further mine to the maximum ability. I intend to complete my Doctor of Nursing and expand my knowledge using as much neonatal continuing education as possible. I have also begun to research and join various nursing groups and programs that specialize in a community of NICU nurses. I volunteer at least once a month with various organizations that are child-based. For example, Rays for Rare - which is a non-profit group for medically fragile children in which volunteers provide household goods, chores, and events that keep awareness at the forefront and support families struggling with the pressure of rare diseases. I am currently working on scholarships, loans, and grants again to assist in my path of education. I work two fulltime jobs and have built a family that I am extremely proud of. I married my best friend and have helped him along his journey while giving mine the attention that it demands. After being exposed to the world of addiction and substance abuse, I have recognized the mentality of most addicts. Before helping my best friend, I looked down on parents that used while pregnant and had little desire to correspond with them, let alone educate them. I have now achieved an open mindedness and new awareness that alters my approach to the parents of Fetal Alcohol Syndrome and drug addicted neonates. I want to create a different approach to education, interaction, and programing including assistance for involved parents. I intend to create a structure which addresses the support a parent requires in a drug or alcohol dependent situation. After witnessing a deeper side into addiction my outlook has become more gracious. I no longer see addiction as a choice, but rather an illness and have furthered my educational desire to include assistance for parents of drug and alcohol addicted children. I know my passion as a five-year-old girl still ignites my desire to achieve greatness - life’s experiences have just added color to my final picture.

When my best friend came to me in the middle of the night and confessed he had relapsed after 14 years of sobriety, I was scared. I had never been in a situation of loving an addict. I had to become very open and understanding, ask a lot of questions, and make a life altering decision – would I stick with him? Allyship is typically associated with other categorized groups, however, as my best friend looked at me with tears in his eyes waiting for my response, I knew it was necessary to expand my own definition of ally and push forward into an unknown territory. I decided to follow my heart and stand at his side as he rediscovered sobriety. He asked that I take over his mortgage, care for his belongings, and begin acting as his Power of Attorney. This was a lot of responsibility and unknown territory to a 27-year-old. I accepted and was immediately thrust into a dark world. I came home several times to the back door being broke in, things being misplaced or missing all together, and numerous visitors demanding specific high-priced property that I knew was my best friends. I was physically assaulted three times in the process of protecting his home and belongings. However, because of our built relationship of trust, love, and consistency – I knew he wouldn’t lead me astray of my own morality, just needed help rediscovering his own. Substance abuse is complex and nothing I have personally ever dabbled in, but I watched it take my best friend and shake his entire life upside down. My best friend has been an addict since a very young age. When I first met him, he had been sober for 7 years and continued from there. He came to me that night and after 14 years had lapsed – an extremely devastating blow to a recovered addict. I continue to travel the journey with him now, fighting for sobriety and getting through the legal complications he acquired during his relapse. It is hard and unknown, but worth every step with the knowledge that his life is bettered. I have witnessed a lot of prejudice and mistreatment because of my best friend’s background. People assume addicts want to live in the life they are surrounded by, however, nine out of ten don’t. Even worse, people assume because I have stepped in to help him – I must use drugs myself. I continue to remain free of any drug or alcohol use, and the further we move down this path the more solidified I am in my choice to not try substances of any type. It took a lot of courage to step outside of my comfort zone and follow my gut that night. I walked into a situation I knew nothing about but followed in blind faith. I knew my best friend would never ask me for help unless he really needed it. Addiction is not an easy feat to overcome, and to do it alone is nearly impossible. After witnessing a deeper side into addiction my outlook has become more gracious. I no longer see addiction as a choice, but rather an illness and have advanced my educational desire to include assistance for parents of drug and alcohol addicted children. I want to further develop my understanding of dependency and create a new identity of allyship among those struggling with addiction.

I was in the darkest place in my life after a breakup with someone I considered to be my soulmate. I was mentally unwell and extremely negative, which was abnormal to my regular optimistic attitude. A good friend and coworker invited me to CrossFit at her local gym and I begrudgingly agreed to try it. I fell in love with the sport after the first grueling, sweat-inducing class. I found passion in moving my body, pushing my mentality, building a community, and releasing endorphins. I look back on that first class of 150 timed wallballs with slight nausea to this day, but wholeheartedly believe it saved me. After regularly attending classes five times a week, I recognized my body craved healthy choices: cleaner eating, regular exercise, adequate water intake, and social interactions. I found excitement in learning the difference of processed foods, simple and complex carbs, as well as macro and micronutrients. Education has always been important to me and kept me motivated for more. When I completed my annual health testing for my employer at the time – including my vitals, BMI, blood count, differentials, and implications for disease or precursors – I received a clean bill of health and was encouraged to keep doing what I was. I had gained near 30 pounds of excess weight in my depression and watched my weight exchange fat for muscle weekly after finding CrossFit. I felt more confident than I had ever in my life. I was physically impacted by CrossFit but mentally changed forever. I became very dependent on my ability to workout and recognized my blessing of an able body. I became obsessed with making CrossFit six times a week and for a portion of time even did two-a-days, attending classes twice in one day for weeks on end. I dated another man who told me I “could be a ‘10’ if I lost 10 pounds”. This was devastating for my built self-confidence, and I began practicing at an unhealthy level with smaller amounts of nutrients to fuel my exertion. Fortunately, I had a community to pull me aside and question how far I was willing to go. I recognized the girl in the mirror as defeated and decided to re-establish my passion with my own desire instead of that of which others expected. I found health defined by myself and decided what felt good to me and what my body type looked best as. As an inspiring nurse it seems obvious that health would be vital, however until you experience a difference of healthy lifestyle verses genes, it’s not personal enough to direct patients on the vitality of health integration. I have been through periods of life accepting I was “big-boned”, “fat”, “chunky” and so forth; however, I have also seen the other side of body dysmorphia and allowed others to define my physical appeal. CrossFit has led me to love my self for who I am, what I look like, and what I am capable of. I currently CrossFit to feed my own passions and create a healthy person for future living. I believe in the importance of a healthy lifestyle for everyone – but I believe tailoring it to the individual is essential to lifetime success. A healthy lifestyle includes physical wellness but also addresses the mental stability in control of the physical body – without both longevity is impossible.

I was in the darkest place in my life after a breakup with someone I considered to be my soulmate. I was mentally unwell and extremely negative, which was abnormal to my regular optimistic attitude. A good friend and coworker invited me to CrossFit at her local gym and I begrudgingly agreed to try it. I fell in love with the sport after the first grueling, sweat-inducing class. I found passion in moving my body, pushing my mentality, building a community, and releasing endorphins. I look back on that first class of 150 timed wallballs with slight nausea to this day, but wholeheartedly believe it saved me. After regularly attending classes five times a week, I recognized my body craved healthy choices: cleaner eating, regular exercise, adequate water intake, and social interactions. I found excitement in learning the difference of processed foods, simple and complex carbs, as well as macro and micronutrients. Education has always been important to me and kept me motivated for more. When I completed my annual health testing for my employer at the time – including my vitals, BMI, blood count, differentials, and implications for disease or precursors – I received a clean bill of health and was encouraged to keep doing what I was. I had gained near 30 pounds of excess weight in my depression and watched my weight exchange fat for muscle weekly after finding CrossFit. I felt more confident than I had ever in my life. I was physically impacted by CrossFit but mentally changed forever. I became very dependent on my ability to workout and recognized my blessing of an able body. I became obsessed with making CrossFit six times a week and for a portion of time even did two-a-days, attending classes twice in one day for weeks on end. I dated another man who told me I “could be a ‘10’ if I lost 10 pounds”. This was devastating for my built self-confidence, and I began practicing at an unhealthy level with smaller amounts of nutrients to fuel my exertion. Fortunately, I had a community to pull me aside and question how far I was willing to go. I recognized the girl in the mirror as defeated and decided to re-establish my passion with my own desire instead of that of which others expected. I found health defined by myself and decided what felt good to me and what my body type looked best as. As an inspiring nurse it seems obvious that health would be vital, however until you experience a difference of healthy lifestyle verses genes, it’s not personal enough to direct patients on the vitality of health integration. I have been through periods of life accepting I was “big-boned”, “fat”, “chunky” and so forth; however, I have also seen the other side of body dysmorphia and allowed others to define my physical appeal. CrossFit has led me to love my self for who I am, what I look like, and what I am capable of. I currently CrossFit to feed my own passions and create a healthy person for future living. I believe in the importance of a healthy lifestyle for everyone – but I believe tailoring it to the individual is essential to lifetime success. A healthy lifestyle includes physical wellness but also addresses the mental stability in control of the physical body – without both longevity is impossible.

I was in the darkest place in my life after a breakup with someone I considered to be my soulmate. I was mentally unwell and extremely negative, which was abnormal to my regular optimistic attitude. A good friend and coworker invited me to CrossFit at her local gym and I begrudgingly agreed to try it. I fell in love with the sport after the first grueling, sweat-inducing class. I found passion in moving my body, pushing my mentality, building a community, and releasing endorphins. I look back on that first class of 150 timed wallballs with slight nausea to this day, but wholeheartedly believe it saved me. After regularly attending classes five times a week, I recognized my body craved healthy choices: cleaner eating, regular exercise, adequate water intake, and social interactions. I found excitement in learning the difference of processed foods, simple and complex carbs, as well as macro and micronutrients. Education has always been important to me and kept me motivated for more. When I completed my annual health testing for my employer at the time – including my vitals, BMI, blood count, differentials, and implications for disease or precursors – I received a clean bill of health and was encouraged to keep doing what I was. I had gained near 30 pounds of excess weight in my depression and watched my weight exchange fat for muscle weekly after finding CrossFit. I felt more confident than I had ever in my life. I was physically impacted by CrossFit but mentally changed forever. I became very dependent on my ability to workout and recognized my blessing of an able body. I became obsessed with making CrossFit six times a week and for a portion of time even did two-a-days, attending classes twice in one day for weeks on end. I dated another man who told me I “could be a ‘10’ if I lost 10 pounds”. This was devastating for my built self-confidence, and I began practicing at an unhealthy level with smaller amounts of nutrients to fuel my exertion. Fortunately, I had a community to pull me aside and question how far I was willing to go. I recognized the girl in the mirror as defeated and decided to re-establish my passion with my own desire instead of that of which others expected. I found health defined by myself and decided what felt good to me and what my body type looked best as. As an inspiring nurse it seems obvious that health would be vital, however until you experience a difference of healthy lifestyle verses genes, it’s not personal enough to direct patients on the vitality of health integration. I have been through periods of life accepting I was “big-boned”, “fat”, “chunky” and so forth; however, I have also seen the other side of body dysmorphia and allowed others to define my physical appeal. CrossFit has led me to love my self for who I am, what I look like, and what I am capable of. I currently CrossFit to feed my own passions and create a healthy person for future living. I believe in the importance of a healthy lifestyle for everyone – but I believe tailoring it to the individual is essential to lifetime success. A healthy lifestyle includes physical wellness but also addresses the mental stability in control of the physical body – without both longevity is impossible.

Ella May has collected numerous names over the past 11 years of life – Elly, Eleanor, Ellis, Lil Mama, El, Ella Norris, Digger Dog, and so forth. The puppy she is today, is far different than the one I saved when she was just a few months old. The first time I heard her crying bark was in the middle of summer, amidst a down pour of rain. I heard a high-pitched bark that almost resembled a yelp but also an attention demander. I listened for a few more shrieks then went outside to see if a dog was trapped or in need of help. I followed the sound to the backyard of a neighbor a few doors down. I peered over their six-foot-tall fence and saw white fur with black contrast patches. She had no shelter, was only a few months old, tied up to the leg of the deck for who knows how long. I saw no food or water, so I let myself in through the back and took her. I left a note for the owners, informing them when they got home, they could collect her if they wished but I was concerned with the weather conditions and her lack of food or water. As I carried her home, she nestled into me, and I noticed her extreme malnourished body. I could see every vertebra of her spine, both hip curves, and the lines of each rib. At the time we had another dog, and I gladly shared his food with her. He wasn’t quite as welcoming, but she fell in love with him immediately. At the time I refrained from naming her but allowed her freedom to my home until her family returned hours later and asked for her back. Less than a week later I heard the same cry for help and ventured back to the neighbor’s yard. As soon as I peaked over the fence she got up and began to wag her tail so hard it knocked her over. I let myself back once again only to find her tied down with a thick metal link chain and a ham bone covered in ants next to the same deck without shelter as before. I took her again and let her sleep with me until her family once again remembered her existence. This time Ella slept across my neck, perfectly content and happy in her new home. She was picked up once again, this time with less kind words exchanged. Weeks later Ella was spotted running down a main road in town and almost hit by a car. I collected her once more, but this time decided I would get proper custody of her. I set out to bring her to the pound the very next day. Her family came by the house that evening asking for her, my mom declined knowing her whereabouts as I stared at Ella in my arms in the back bedroom. Ella made no sound or motion of recognition to the voice of her owner, instead she seemed to understand and accept her saving. I brought Ella to the pound the next day and informed them I didn’t want her to be released that I would pay for her rightful paperwork immediately. After being spayed and a short stay at the pound for observation, Ella came home with me. As a teenager I was acting on impulse but also deep seeded knowledge of right and wrong. I could have gotten in trouble for trespassing, stolen property, or several other things – however, I knew that I was the only hope for Ella. Animals are a blessing and our responsibility to care for them. Dogs teach us unfaltering love, forgiveness, wholesomeness, trust, and vulnerability. They aren’t to be abused but to be learned from. Ella has continued to be the best companion I have ever owned. She knows when I am anxious and need her warmth. She has grown with my husband and I, always identifying her home as the safest place for her. Ella recognizes each of us in an instant and can’t help but get overly excited when we return. Her attachment has become deeper than I ever imagined and mine just the same. Unfortunately, Ella was involved in a dog fight 8 years ago. However, she has suffered no love loss for other dogs or humans. She reminds me daily to forgive and be patient. Ella has also become a companion dog for my husband in his time of relapse and rehabilitation. Ella knows when he is struggling and keeps him busy with laughter, tug-o-war, and requests for truck rides. Her health is beyond expectation at near 11 years old. She is mistaken for a puppy regularly because she still obtains her agility, spunky attitude, and playful spirit. She reminds me that life is short, undetermined but always enjoyable. As much as I tell her story, I know that at the end of the day, it is she who saved me.

Ella May has collected numerous names over the past 11 years of life – Elly, Eleanor, Ellis, Lil Mama, El, Ella Norris, Digger Dog, and so forth. The puppy she is today, is far different than the one I saved when she was just a few months old. The first time I heard her crying bark was in the middle of summer, amidst a down pour of rain. I heard a high-pitched bark that almost resembled a yelp but also an attention demander. I listened for a few more shrieks then went outside to see if a dog was trapped or in need of help. I followed the sound to the backyard of a neighbor a few doors down. I peered over their six-foot-tall fence and saw white fur with black contrast patches. She had no shelter, was only a few months old, tied up to the leg of the deck for who knows how long. I saw no food or water, so I let myself in through the back and took her. I left a note for the owners, informing them when they got home, they could collect her if they wished but I was concerned with the weather conditions and her lack of food or water. As I carried her home, she nestled into me, and I noticed her extreme malnourished body. I could see every vertebra of her spine, both hip curves, and the lines of each rib. At the time we had another dog, and I gladly shared his food with her. He wasn’t quite as welcoming, but she fell in love with him immediately. At the time I refrained from naming her but allowed her freedom to my home until her family returned hours later and asked for her back. Less than a week later I heard the same cry for help and ventured back to the neighbor’s yard. As soon as I peaked over the fence she got up and began to wag her tail so hard it knocked her over. I let myself back once again only to find her tied down with a thick metal link chain and a ham bone covered in ants next to the same deck without shelter as before. I took her again and let her sleep with me until her family once again remembered her existence. This time Ella slept across my neck, perfectly content and happy in her new home. She was picked up once again, this time with less kind words exchanged. Weeks later Ella was spotted running down a main road in town and almost hit by a car. I collected her once more, but this time decided I would get proper custody of her. I set out to bring her to the pound the very next day. Her family came by the house that evening asking for her, my mom declined knowing her whereabouts as I stared at Ella in my arms in the back bedroom. Ella made no sound or motion of recognition to the voice of her owner, instead she seemed to understand and accept her saving. I brought Ella to the pound the next day and informed them I didn’t want her to be released that I would pay for her rightful paperwork immediately. After being spayed and a short stay at the pound for observation, Ella came home with me. As a teenager I was acting on impulse but also deep seeded knowledge of right and wrong. I could have gotten in trouble for trespassing, stolen property, or several other things – however, I knew that I was the only hope for Ella. Animals are a blessing and our responsibility to care for them. Dogs teach us unfaltering love, forgiveness, wholesomeness, trust, and vulnerability. They aren’t to be abused but to be learned from. Ella has continued to be the best companion I have ever owned. She knows when I am anxious and need her warmth. She has grown with my husband and I, always identifying her home as the safest place for her. Ella recognizes each of us in an instant and can’t help but get overly excited when we return. Her attachment has become deeper than I ever imagined and mine just the same. Unfortunately, Ella was involved in a dog fight 8 years ago. However, she has suffered no love loss for other dogs or humans. She reminds me daily to forgive and be patient. Ella has also become a companion dog for my husband in his time of relapse and rehabilitation. Ella knows when he is struggling and keeps him busy with laughter, tug-o-war, and requests for truck rides. Her health is beyond expectation at near 11 years old. She is mistaken for a puppy regularly because she still obtains her agility, spunky attitude, and playful spirit. She reminds me that life is short, undetermined but always enjoyable. As much as I tell her story, I know that at the end of the day, it is she who saved me.

To be vulnerable is the most fear inspiring, brave requiring action. Not always knowing what is coming next incites bravery. When my best friend came to me in the middle of the night and confessed he had relapsed after 14 years of sobriety, I was scared. I had never been in a situation of loving an addict. I had to become very open and understanding, ask a lot of questions, and make a life altering decision – would I stick with him? I decided to follow my heart and stand at his side as he rediscovered sobriety. He asked that I take over his mortgage, care for his belongings, and begin acting as his Power of Attorney. This was a lot of responsibility and unknown territory to a 27-year-old. I accepted and was immediately thrust into a dark world. I came home several times to the back door being broke in, things being misplaced or missing all together, and numerous visitors demanding specific high-priced property that I knew was my best friends. It took a lot of courage to step outside of my comfort zone and follow my gut that night. I walked into a situation I knew nothing about but followed in blind faith. I knew my best friend would never ask me for help unless he really needed it. Addiction is not an easy feat to overcome, and to do it alone is nearly impossible. After witnessing a deeper side into addiction my outlook has become more gracious. I no longer see addiction as a choice, but rather an illness and have furthered my educational desire to include assistance for parents of drug and alcohol addicted children.

I grew up with a single mother undiagnosed but very symptomatic of borderline personality disorder (BPD). It wasn’t until a handful of years into my adulthood that I began to understand how her mental health affected my upbringing and dangerously toyed with my own. My brother was diagnosed at a young age with manic bipolar disease as well as ADHD and later in life schizophrenia. I was confused how I was related closely to two people yet had minimal mental health complications outside of OCD. However, after taking psychology through two different colleges – I recognized my own mental health of compulsive disorder and anal retentiveness stemmed from my surroundings and coping ability of my family’s mental health. Upon graduating high school, I chose to move across the country and over 2,000 miles from the only parent I had ever known. I needed a break from the mental wearing my mother had created and found the most peaceful reprieve to be states away with little contact. I began to recognize my faltering self-conscious and negative inner voice that capped my belief and abilities. After dating a man with a mother diagnosed with BPD, I began to heavily research it and began to discover how to cope with a loved one with the disease. It has taken many years of practice and uncountable failures to build myself with thick skin unaffected by her cruel words and victim mentality. I have accepted my determination to befriend people who need fixing and admitted to many relationships that used my heart instead of shared it. I have worked at creating a boundary with my mother but also with others, ensuring I water my own garden before tending to others. I recently married my best friend who has grown close to knowing the dynamics of my family and how I must coexist among them. He is supportive and understands why certain words and phrases trigger my defensive shut down. Through out my experience I have only become more determined to make a difference in the healthcare and use my personal life as foundation for creating a more open approach to mental health. In December of 2019 I had my first mental breakdown that led to true contemplation of suicide. I have always been an optimistic child and never understood how anyone could choose “selfishly” to take their own life and leave a mess for loved ones to clean up. However, I was drowning in nursing school, my best friend had relapsed into substance abuse, my mother was more concerned with my brother in prison than my failure to thrive, and I couldn’t see the light anymore. I never acted only because I could not find a plan that suited a minimal clean up or surprise for the person who found me. I have worked relentlessly since then to come back into the light. I choose daily to find the positives again and remember that I am made to make an impact. Through my experience I now take Post-Partum Depression much more seriously. I see signs of struggling and desperation clearer than ever before. I know that my ultimate goal is a Doctorates of Nursing with my Nurse Practitioner specialty in the NICU but the primary focus of my experience has become being an advocate for the parents in these stressful situations. Although substance abuse is not seen as a mental health condition it is one that limits the mind in a similar capacity. Escaping from the reality of life to an alternate reality where responsibility is not as bold, lures many people into addiction. I want to work specifically in the high levels of the NICU that homes babies born addicted to alcohol and/or drugs. At one time I had little patience and understanding for a mother that is blessed with a child but chooses to expose them to substances their small bodies cannot tolerate. However, I have watched my brother’s mental health control his coping mechanism and watched him steer towards controlled substance to find numbness or an escape from the voices. My best friend, after over 20 years of drug use and almost just as many clean, fell to the pressure of financial demands and resorted back to the numbness of methamphetamines. People make choices and take chances in situations that they believe will best help them cope with their ailment. It is not anyone’s place to decide the logistics or credibility of someone’s mental health. Struggling is what allows people to fall victim to scary, irreparable decisions. I now use the exposure of my mothers undiagnosed mental health, my brothers diagnosed and untreated mental health, and my best friends coping mechanisms to create a more open and understanding awareness of mental health problems. I thought I got off free of mental ailment only to find out that anyone can be pressured enough to collapse and need assistance. Entering the healthcare system with an understanding of mental health disease, common coping mechanisms, and the vulnerability of society will make me stronger. I will be different, and I will make a difference.

I grew up with a single mother undiagnosed but very symptomatic of borderline personality disorder (BPD). It wasn’t until a handful of years into my adulthood that I began to understand how her mental health affected my upbringing and dangerously toyed with my own. My brother was diagnosed at a young age with manic bipolar disease as well as ADHD and later in life schizophrenia. I was confused how I was related closely to two people yet had minimal mental health complications outside of OCD. However, after taking psychology through two different colleges – I recognized my own mental health of compulsive disorder and anal retentiveness stemmed from my surroundings and coping ability of my family’s mental health. Upon graduating high school, I chose to move across the country and over 2,000 miles from the only parent I had ever known. I needed a break from the mental wearing my mother had created and found the most peaceful reprieve to be states away with little contact. I began to recognize my faltering self-conscious and negative inner voice that capped my belief and abilities. After dating a man with a mother diagnosed with BPD, I began to heavily research it and began to discover how to cope with a loved one with the disease. It has taken many years of practice and uncountable failures to build myself with thick skin unaffected by her cruel words and victim mentality. I have accepted my determination to befriend people who need fixing and admitted to many relationships that used my heart instead of shared it. I have worked at creating a boundary with my mother but also with others, ensuring I water my own garden before tending to others. I recently married my best friend who has grown close to knowing the dynamics of my family and how I must coexist among them. He is supportive and understands why certain words and phrases trigger my defensive shut down. Through out my experience I have only become more determined to make a difference in the healthcare and use my personal life as foundation for creating a more open approach to mental health. In December of 2019 I had my first mental breakdown that led to true contemplation of suicide. I have always been an optimistic child and never understood how anyone could choose “selfishly” to take their own life and leave a mess for loved ones to clean up. However, I was drowning in nursing school, my best friend had relapsed into substance abuse, my mother was more concerned with my brother in prison than my failure to thrive, and I couldn’t see the light anymore. I never acted only because I could not find a plan that suited a minimal clean up or surprise for the person who found me. I have worked relentlessly since then to come back into the light. I choose daily to find the positives again and remember that I am made to make an impact. Through my experience I now take Post-Partum Depression much more seriously. I see signs of struggling and desperation clearer than ever before. I know that my ultimate goal is a Doctorates of Nursing with my Nurse Practitioner specialty in the NICU but the primary focus of my experience has become being an advocate for the parents in these stressful situations. Although substance abuse is not seen as a mental health condition it is one that limits the mind in a similar capacity. Escaping from the reality of life to an alternate reality where responsibility is not as bold, lures many people into addiction. I want to work specifically in the high levels of the NICU that homes babies born addicted to alcohol and/or drugs. At one time I had little patience and understanding for a mother that is blessed with a child but chooses to expose them to substances their small bodies cannot tolerate. However, I have watched my brother’s mental health control his coping mechanism and watched him steer towards controlled substance to find numbness or an escape from the voices. My best friend, after over 20 years of drug use and almost just as many clean, fell to the pressure of financial demands and resorted back to the numbness of methamphetamines. People make choices and take chances in situations that they believe will best help them cope with their ailment. It is not anyone’s place to decide the logistics or credibility of someone’s mental health. Struggling is what allows people to fall victim to scary, irreparable decisions. I now use the exposure of my mothers undiagnosed mental health, my brothers diagnosed and untreated mental health, and my best friends coping mechanisms to create a more open and understanding awareness of mental health problems. I thought I got off free of mental ailment only to find out that anyone can be pressured enough to collapse and need assistance. Entering the healthcare system with an understanding of mental health disease, common coping mechanisms, and the vulnerability of society will make me stronger. I will be different, and I will make a difference.