It has been five years since my brother, Hunter, was tragically murdered at the age of nineteen. Just the night before, we had celebrated the future when he proposed to his high school sweetheart - less than twelve hours later he would be gone. I hold so tightly to those last hugs and smiles we shared. As the oldest of seven children, family has always been the defining core of my life. When Hunter was killed, our whole world shattered into a thousand tiny pieces. In the first days and weeks, fighting looked like finding the next breath, bearing up under the utter devastation that we would never again hear his laugh or see his face. Depression already runs in my family, and we all struggled greatly to keep functioning in the early weeks and months of grief. The only thing that kept us afloat was a community of caring friends who rallied around us for months and even years following Hunter’s death. My little sisters were only ten years old at the time, and I I assumed that the most difficult fight would be for justice. Even though he was apprehended and charged with murder, my brother’s killer spent less than three years in prison, being released just days before the third anniversary of Hunter’s death. At the end of the day, no conviction or sentence was going to bring my brother back. So I began the most difficult battle of all - wrestling with my anger so I could focus on the parts of Hunter’s story I loved, rather than the parts that broke my heart. Losing Hunter has shaped me in more ways than I can count. Grief and loss will always be something I am intimately familiar with, and I am finally taking that pain and turning it into purpose. Looking back on my life, I see how every experience I had was preparing me to become a therapist for hurting people. This year, I am leaving my corporate career to follow the calling that has been on my heart for the last five years. Returning to school to become a Marriage and Family Therapist feels like the greatest way to honor the impact Hunter had on my life. I want to be a source of care and support for others facing the difficulties of this life. Joy is worth fighting for - that is who Hunter was at his core - joy and anticipation. In a very real sense, that joy was taken from my family and we have been struggling ever since to recover the very thing that made Hunter so impactful. There are still days when the heaviness creeps back in, but I am determined to focus on my hope for the future and all the good that is yet to come. In pursuing this graduate degree, I am facing my fears and embracing my strengths and weaknesses to become the woman I know Hunter would be proud of.

The importance and prevalence of mental health have always been significant in my life, but recently it has changed the trajectory of my life and career for the better. After 8 years in corporate America, I am returning to school to obtain a Master's degree in Family Therapy - no other topic interests or motivates me more than understanding and helping others through life's challenges. As the oldest of seven children, I grew up quickly and developed a strong sense of observation. I witnessed an array of personality types, interests, and motives that made our familial dynamic unique and complex. In addition, a history of mental illness on both sides of the family provided an early and up-close experience with conditions like bipolar, depression, anxiety, ADHD, and more. I am deeply grateful my parents were unusually open about mental disorders and their impacts. When I displayed symptoms of seasonal depressive disorder in middle school, my parents did not hesitate to seek professional input and treatment. Whereas most of my peers had to fight to validate their struggles with mental health to their families, I was raised to view mental and physical ailments as equally real and deserving of treatment. As my adopted sisters grew, I learned about attachment styles and the importance early childhood development has on lifelong outcomes as adults. All the while, I was also exposed to the challenges my parents faced in their marriage, parenting, and finances as a result of my father's physical disability. Without a doubt, the parentified role I held in my family dynamic is not an experience I cite with pride. However, in retrospect, I can appreciate how that experience provided a window into many complex topics that further drove my interest and eventual calling within the world of therapy. That trajectory was nearly derailed in 2019 when my brother was tragically killed at the age of nineteen. Life shattered entirely with his murder; even five years later, it is difficult to describe the depths of pain and devastation that followed. Ultimately, I found that even with therapy, group grief support, and psychiatric care, the main way through the painful years that followed required time and staying close to loved ones. For several years I wrestled with the conviction that I was called to become a therapist, believing I had to achieve a certain level of healing to serve and care for others on their journeys. Grieving, healing, and regaining hope for the future took far more effort, time, and intention than I imagined. Yet when I reflect on that season, I see how the traits of maturity, empathy, and awareness were refined for my next career step as a therapist. In the master’s program for Marriage and Family Therapy, my goal is to be capable and confident in helping any patient advocate for themselves, regardless of their belief system, background, or life direction. Struggles, hardships, and mental illness do not discriminate. We are each entitled to hope and healing, and I aim to provide a path for the individuals and families brave enough to take that journey.

Anxiety, self-doubt, and fear dictated my academic and professional pursuits for almost a decade, holding me back from purpose and passion. Only after a traumatic loss and years of internal battles have I learned that the only way to live fully is by moving beyond my fears. Growing up in a family full of mental illnesses, it was no surprise when I received my own diagnosis at the young age of twelve years old. While I received helpful treatment for my anxiety and seasonal depression, undiagnosed ADHD deeply impacted my high school studies and exacerbated my fear surrounding my future. When faced with overwhelming questions about my collegiate and career hopes, I constantly found myself utterly unsure of what to do next. Though sociology and psychology fascinated me from a young age, I was convinced that because of anxiety and depression, I would never have the stamina or resilience required to succeed in a demanding field. Instead, I pursued a degree in the broad field of communications - not from passion or interest, but because my anxiety convinced me it was the only area where I could succeed and have numerous career options. Having a safety net of options felt utterly essential. For eight years, my "safe" degree has served me well in corporate America. Yet, even on fabulous teams representing industry-leading companies like Google and Microsoft, I constantly found myself unsatisfied and unchallenged in my work, but too afraid to try something else. However, that all changed when my brother was murdered at the age of nineteen. It has taken almost five years to regain my sense of self following his loss, but on the other side of the pain and grief, I realized that we are never guaranteed tomorrow, no matter how safe or secure our plans may seem. My entire life has primed me to understand and care deeply about the struggles so many people face each day. From my natural interest in psychology to my exposure to mental illness and the power of effective treatments, I realized that my calling in life is not to play it safe, but to use my own experiences to serve others in their personal battles. I am proud to finally be taking the leap in August to begin my Master's degree in Marriage and Family Therapy. There are still many nights when anxiety tries to convince me that starting over in a new career path is a terrible plan. However, I am proud to finally be moving towards a goal that requires me to live above and beyond my fears. Even on my worst days, I am confident that I can be a resource to others navigating their own battles. I am proudly taking this next step despite my fears - my legacy will no longer be playing it safe, but instead be creating purpose from pain.

As the oldest of seven children, I grew up quickly and developed a strong sense of observation. With three biological brothers and three adopted sisters, I witnessed a vast array of personalities, interests, and motives that made our family dynamic unique and complex. Additionally, a history of mental illness on both sides of the family provided an early and up-close experience with conditions like bipolar, depression, anxiety, ADHD, and more. I am grateful my parents were unusually open about mental disorders and their impacts. When I displayed symptoms of seasonal depression in middle school, my parents did not hesitate to seek professional input and treatment. Whereas most of my peers fought their families to validate their mental health struggles, I was raised to view mental and physical ailments as equally real and deserving of treatment. Though many treatments proved imperfect, acknowledging my struggle provided a path through my lifelong battle with depression and anxiety. However, nothing could prepare my family for the devastation that struck in 2019 when my brother was tragically killed at the age of nineteen. Even five years later, it is difficult to describe the pain and brokenness that followed. Ultimately, I found that even with therapy, group grief support, and psychiatric care, the main way through the painful years required intentional connection with loved ones and openness about our experience. I was early in my corporate career at the time and hoped to find respite from reality in my work. Soon I realized the busy work was just a bandaid, and craved a way to give meaning to the grief that followed me relentlessly. For almost five years, I wrestled with the conviction to become a therapist, believing I was too broken to serve and care for others on their journeys. Healing and regaining hope for the future took far more effort, time, and intention than I imagined. Yet, when I reflect on that season, I see how the traits of maturity, empathy, and awareness were refined for this purpose. Along with a lifelong interest in communication, connection, and psychology, I believe my natural gifts of observation, listening and mediating will make me an excellent counselor and therapist. Struggles, hardships, and mental illness do not discriminate. We are each entitled to hope and healing, and my goal is to provide a path for the individuals and families brave enough to take that journey. This August, I am taking the leap of faith by leaving the corporate workforce and returning to a full-time master's program studying Family Therapy. After almost a decade out of academia, this decision is both exhilarating and terrifying. My long-term goal is to serve families facing difficult seasons - that may look like divorce, loss, addiction, abuse, or mental illness. Success will look wildly different for each client and situation. But for me personally, moving into this field and betting on myself is the greatest success yet. Taking a terrible and life-defining experience, and turning my pain into a purpose that serves others is the greatest honor and challenge of my life. Each day I am still learning to own and embrace my struggle instead of hiding. By 2028, I will be fully licensed as a Marriage and Family Therapist to serve my home state of South Carolina, capable of working with families and individuals who are seeking guidance through life’s challenges. I believe my brother is proud of the progress I have made, and his legacy will continue to drive me forward in this field where I am determined to make a difference for others.

As the oldest of seven children, I grew up quickly and developed a strong sense of observation. With three biological brothers and three adopted sisters, I witnessed a vast array of personalities, interests, and motives that made our family dynamic unique and complex. Additionally, a history of mental illness on both sides of the family provided an early and up-close experience with conditions like bipolar, depression, anxiety, ADHD, and more. I am grateful my parents were unusually open about mental disorders and their impacts. When I displayed symptoms of seasonal depression in middle school, my parents did not hesitate to seek professional input and treatment. Whereas most of my peers fought their families to validate their mental health struggles, I was raised to view mental and physical ailments as equally real and deserving of treatment. Though many treatments proved imperfect, acknowledging my struggle provided a path through my lifelong battle with depression and anxiety. However, nothing could prepare my family for the devastation that struck in 2019 when my brother was tragically killed at the age of nineteen. Even five years later, it is difficult to describe the pain and brokenness that followed. Ultimately, I found that even with therapy, group grief support, and psychiatric care, the main way through the painful years required intentional connection with loved ones and openness about our experience. I was early in my corporate career at the time and hoped to find respite from reality in my work. Soon I realized the busy work was just a bandaid, and craved a way to give meaning to the grief that followed me relentlessly. For almost five years, I wrestled with the conviction to become a therapist, believing I was too broken to serve and care for others on their journeys. Healing and regaining hope for the future took far more effort, time, and intention than I imagined. Yet, when I reflect on that season, I see how the traits of maturity, empathy, and awareness were refined for this purpose. Along with a lifelong interest in communication, connection, and psychology, I believe my natural gifts of observation, listening and mediating will make me an excellent counselor and therapist. Struggles, hardships, and mental illness do not discriminate. We are each entitled to hope and healing, and my goal is to provide a path for the individuals and families brave enough to take that journey. This August, I am taking the leap of faith by leaving the corporate workforce and returning to a full-time master's program studying Family Therapy. After almost a decade out of academia, this decision is both exhilarating and terrifying. My long-term goal is to serve families facing difficult seasons - that may look like divorce, loss, addiction, abuse, or mental illness. Success will look wildly different for each client and situation. But for me personally, moving into this field and betting on myself is the greatest success yet. Taking a terrible and life-defining experience, and turning my pain into a purpose that serves others is the greatest honor and challenge of my life. Each day I am still learning to own and embrace my struggle instead of hiding. By 2028, I will be fully licensed as a Marriage and Family Therapist to serve my home state of South Carolina, capable of working with families and individuals who are seeking guidance through life’s challenges. I believe my brother is proud of the progress I have made, and his legacy will continue to drive me forward in this field where I am determined to make a difference for others.

As a teenager, I deeply struggled to identify my path or purpose in life. I held myself to high academic standards but felt no interest in a specific career field. I achieved excellent scholarships for my college of choice and proceeded to study Public Relations and Communication since my greatest interests revolved around people and building strong community connections. More than halfway through my college experience, I realized that psychology and sociology may have better suited my interests, but I was too afraid of "failure" to change my major. Following my 2017 graduation, I pursued a career in the corporate sphere representing some of the biggest names in the work of technology but continually struggled to find purpose and meaning in my work. My priorities shifted drastically in 2019 when my brother was tragically killed at the age of nineteen. Life shattered entirely with his murder; even five years later, it is difficult to describe the depths of pain and brokenness that followed. Initially, I focused on protecting my young sisters and supporting my grieving brothers while my parents wrestled with unbearable guilt and anguish. Ultimately, I found that even with therapy, group grief support, and psychiatric care, the main way through the painful years required intentional connection with loved ones and openness about our experience. I was early in my corporate career at the time and hoped to find respite from reality in my work. Soon I realized the busy work was just a bandaid, and craved a way to give meaning to the grief that followed me relentlessly. For almost five years, I wrestled with the conviction that I was called to become a therapist, believing I was too broken to serve and care for others on their journeys. Healing and regaining hope for the future took far more effort, time, and intention than I imagined. Yet, when I reflect on that season, I see how the traits of maturity, empathy, and awareness were refined for this purpose. Along with a lifelong interest in communication, connection, and psychology, I believe my natural gifts of observation, listening and mediating will make me an excellent counselor and therapist. Struggles, hardships, and mental illness do not discriminate. We are each entitled to hope and healing, and my goal is to provide a path for the individuals and families brave enough to take that journey. This August, I am taking the leap of faith by leaving the corporate workforce at the age of twenty-nine and returning to school in a full-time master's program studying Family Therapy. After almost a decade out of the classroom, this decision is both exhilarating and terrifying. This program will allow me to help others face the challenges of life with a holistic and thorough approach. By 2028, I will be fully licensed as a Marriage and Family Therapist to serve my home state of South Carolina, capable of working with families and individuals who are seeking guidance through life’s challenges. My long-term goal is to serve families facing difficult seasons - that may look like divorce, loss, addiction, abuse, or mental illness. Moving into this field, taking a risk, and betting on myself is my greatest success yet. Turning my pain into a purpose that serves others is the greatest honor and challenge of my life. I believe my brother is proud of the progress I have made, and his legacy will continue to drive me forward in this field where I am determined to make a difference for others.

As the oldest of seven children, I grew up quickly and developed a strong sense of observation. With my three biological brothers and three adopted sisters, I witnessed a vast array of personality types, interests, and motives that made our familial dynamic unique and complex. In addition, a history of mental illness on both sides of the family provided an early and up-close experience with conditions like bipolar, depression, anxiety, ADHD, and more. I am deeply grateful my parents were unusually open about mental disorders and their impacts. When I displayed symptoms of seasonal depressive disorder in middle school, my parents did not hesitate to seek professional input and treatment. Whereas most of my peers fought for their families to validate their mental health struggles, I was raised to view mental and physical ailments as equally real and deserving of treatment. Though many treatments proved imperfect, the recognition and validation of my struggle gave me a path forward through my lifelong battle with depression and anxiety. However, no amount of mental health awareness could prepare my family for the devastation that struck in 2019 when my brother was tragically killed at the age of nineteen. Life shattered entirely with his murder; even five years later, it is difficult to describe the depths of pain and brokenness that followed. Initially, I focused on protecting my young sisters and supporting my grieving brothers while my parents wrestled with unbearable guilt and anguish. Ultimately, I found that even with therapy, group grief support, and psychiatric care, the main way through the painful years required intentional connection with loved ones and openness about our experience. I was early in my corporate career at the time and hoped to find respite from reality in my work. Soon I realized the busy work was just a bandaid, and craved a way to give meaning to the grief that followed me relentlessly. For almost five years, I wrestled with the conviction that I was called to become a therapist, believing I was too broken to serve and care for others on their journeys. Healing and regaining hope for the future took far more effort, time, and intention than I imagined. Yet, when I reflect on that season, I see how the traits of maturity, empathy, and awareness were refined for this purpose. Along with a lifelong interest in communication, connection, and psychology, I believe my natural gifts of observation, listening and mediating will make me an excellent counselor and therapist. Struggles, hardships, and mental illness do not discriminate. We are each entitled to hope and healing, and my goal is to provide a path for the individuals and families brave enough to take that journey. This August, I am taking the leap of faith by leaving the corporate workforce and returning to a full-time master's program studying Family Therapy. After almost a decade out of academia, this decision is both exhilarating and terrifying. My long-term goal is to serve families facing difficult seasons - that may look like divorce, loss, addiction, abuse, or mental illness. Success will look wildly different for each client and situation. But for me personally, moving into this field and betting on myself is the greatest success yet. Taking a terrible and life-defining experience, and turning my pain into a purpose that serves others is the greatest honor and challenge of my life. Each day I am still learning to own and embrace my struggle instead of hiding. By 2028, I will be fully licensed as a Marriage and Family Therapist to serve my home state of South Carolina, capable of working with families and individuals who are seeking guidance through life’s challenges. I believe my brother is proud of the progress I have made, and his legacy will continue to drive me forward in this field where I am determined to make a difference for others.

I have learned that success looks different the longer you live - it is not just the mountain peaks, but also the valleys you go through along the journey. My brother was tragically killed the morning after proposing to his high school sweetheart. At only 19 years old, he knew exactly what he wanted in life. For Hunter, success meant living on the coast, where he could work outside with his hands, building a simple life with the woman he loved. In contrast, I was a recent college graduate desperately looking for professional purpose when my brother’s death altered life entirely. For the next five years, I worked in corporate settings seeking a role that would provide structure, distraction, and hopefully purpose in the midst of my pain. Even while working for some of the greatest names in tech, the realities of grief, depression, and desire for meaning followed me relentlessly in the workplace. At first, success meant getting up and getting through the day. Then it meant closing large deals and securing major clients. But even with notable career wins, I always felt an emptiness at the end of each accomplishment. Ultimately, my experiences with loss, therapy, mental health, healing, and growth over the last five years revealed that I would only be satisfied in my work when it mattered to me on a deep and personal level. I regularly wrestled with the conviction that I was called to become a therapist, believing I was too broken and weak to serve and care for others on their journeys. Regaining hope for the future took more effort, time, and intention than expected. Yet, when I reflect on that season, I see how the traits of maturity, empathy, and awareness were being refined in my life to serve others. Along with my innate interest in communication, connection, and psychology, I believe my natural gifts of observation, listening and mediating will make me an excellent counselor and therapist. This August, I am taking the leap of faith by leaving the corporate workforce and returning to a full time masters program studying Family Therapy. After almost a decade out of academia, this decision is both exhilarating and terrifying. My long-term goal is to serve families facing difficult seasons - that may look like adoption, divorce, loss, addiction, abuse, or mental illness. Success will look wildly different for each client and situation. But for me personally, moving into this field and betting on myself is the greatest success yet. Taking a terrible and life-defining experience, and turning my pain into a purpose that serves others is the greatest honor and challenge of my life. This program will allow me to help others face the challenges of life with a holistic and thorough approach. During this two-year master’s program through Converse College, I will obtain over 500 hours of supervised client sessions, and then accumulate another 1,200 hours of client work as an associate counselor over the following two years. By 2028, I will be fully licensed as a Marriage and Family Therapist to serve my home state of South Carolina, capable of working with families and individuals who are seeking guidance through life’s challenges. Redefining victory and success often requires us to reevaluate our values and focus. For me, it meant looking beyond job titles and security to find passion and purpose. It also meant learning to own and embrace my experience of loss, rather than running and hiding from that pain. I believe my brother is proud of the progress I have made, and his legacy will continue to drive me forward into this new field where I am determined to make a difference for others.