The Career I Wasn't Supposed to Have
How a high school dropout, single mother, and cancer survivor discovered that life's detours can lead to extraordinary places
If there is one thing I've learned throughout my life, it is that success rarely follows the path we expect.
When we look at successful people, we often see the finished product. We see the degrees, the careers, the accomplishments, and the titles. What we don't see are the setbacks, the wrong turns, the moments of doubt, and the countless times life forced them to start over.
My story certainly didn't begin the way I imagined it would.
I became a mother at 17 years old. By 22, I had two young boys depending on me. Like many young mothers, my focus wasn't on building a career or planning my future. My focus was on making it through the next day, paying the bills, and creating stability for my children.
Around that same time, I was working toward my GED. During the day, I attended classes, and at night I worked in the sandwich shop of a local bowling alley. It wasn't glamorous, but it was honest work, and I was determined to create a better future for myself and my family.
School had always been difficult for me. For years, I assumed that meant I simply wasn't very good at it. Then a volunteer teacher noticed something no one else had ever identified. She believed I had dyslexia.
That single observation changed the way I viewed myself.
Suddenly, years of frustration began to make sense. I wasn't incapable. I simply learned differently.
It still took me a year to earn my GED, but when I finally did, I was incredibly proud. That accomplishment represented far more than a diploma. It was proof that I could achieve something that had once felt completely out of reach.
Not long after, life presented another challenge.
At 24 years old, I was diagnosed with cervical cancer.
Looking back, people often ask if I was scared. The truth is, I probably should have been. I was a single mother raising two boys, I didn't have health insurance, and I had never really known what it felt like to be healthy. Medical issues and abnormal test results had been part of my life for as long as I could remember.
What I remember most, however, wasn't fear.
My focus wasn't on the diagnosis itself. My focus was on getting through surgery so I could get back to work. I was the sole provider for my family. There were bills to pay, groceries to buy, and two little boys depending on me.
Life didn't stop because I had cancer, so I didn't spend much time dwelling on it.
I simply focused on the next step and kept moving forward.
Looking back now, I realize those years taught me some of the most important lessons of my life. They taught me resilience, adaptability, and the ability to continue moving forward even when circumstances were far from ideal.
For the next decade, I focused on raising my boys and building a life for my family. Then something interesting happened.
My sons grew older.
They became more independent.
For the first time, I had enough room to think about goals I had put on hold for years.
So I enrolled in college.
To be honest, I was terrified.
I was returning to school after years away from the classroom. I still had dyslexia, and I still carried some of the self-doubt that had followed me since childhood. But I enrolled anyway.
I earned my Associate's degree in Medical Administration and discovered something I never expected.
I loved learning.
Not every subject, of course. Math and I never became close friends. But I found myself fascinated by communication, psychology, ethics, leadership, and understanding how people work together. I was especially drawn to the human side of organizations and the decisions that shape them.
After completing my Associate's degree, I was offered a scholarship to continue my education and pursue my Bachelor's degree. I chose a path focused on communication and human management, and before long I found myself considering something I never thought I would do.
A Master's degree.
The funny thing is, earning a Master's degree had never been a dream of mine.
I pursued it because I had finally discovered that I could learn, and I was afraid to stop.
For so many years, I had believed that education wasn't for me. Once I realized that wasn't true, I wanted to see how far I could go.
Over the course of five years, I completed my Associate's degree, Bachelor's degree, and Master's degree back-to-back while working full-time. Throughout that journey, I maintained a 3.8 GPA.
The grades were rewarding, but what mattered most was the confidence.
Each class, each paper, and each degree replaced years of doubt with proof.
Proof that I was capable.
Proof that I belonged.
Proof that I could accomplish things I once believed were beyond my reach.
At the same time, I was building my career at Sandia National Laboratories.
Looking back, one of the greatest blessings of my professional journey wasn't a title or promotion. It was the people who invested in me.
My manager, Susan, saw potential in me long before I fully recognized it in myself. She didn't simply assign work. She created opportunities. She exposed me to industry standards, best practices, and experiences that stretched my capabilities and expanded my perspective.
I soaked up every opportunity I could.
Around that same time, I met Steve, who represented our regulatory community. We quickly developed a strong professional relationship that evolved into mentorship and friendship. Together, Susan and Steve challenged me, encouraged me, and helped me grow into an industry leader.
Their belief in me changed the trajectory of my career.
One of the greatest lessons they taught me was the importance of saying yes to opportunities that feel bigger than your comfort zone.
Eventually, that lesson led me to one of the biggest decisions of my life.
I left the laboratory.
It was one of the hardest decisions I had ever made. Sandia had become home. It was where I had grown professionally, completed my education, and built relationships that would influence me for years to come.
But growth often requires us to leave places we love.
I accepted a position with TerraPower and moved to Washington State.
I sold my house, packed my life into boxes, and started over.
Three months later, I was laid off.
Just like that, the opportunity I had moved for was gone.
Most people assume that was the moment everything fell apart.
The truth is, I gave myself exactly one day.
One day to be angry.
One day to feel disappointed.
One day to sit in what I affectionately call the "pity pool."
The next morning, I got up, made a cup of coffee, sat down, and began creating a plan.
Because that's what life had taught me to do.
Not panic.
Plan.
For a period of time, that plan involved unemployment, a travel trailer, and a very loyal dog.
Together, we lived full-time in the RV and traveled throughout the Southwest while I interviewed for opportunities and figured out what came next.
Oddly enough, I wasn't scared.
I was excited.
Every major turning point in my life had started with uncertainty. Why should this one be any different?
Eventually, I found myself facing a choice.
Do I go backward to what feels familiar?
Or do I continue moving toward something new?
I chose the fresh start.
That decision brought me to Utah.
Today, more than six years later, I sometimes look back and smile at how little I could have predicted.
The career path I thought I was building became something entirely different. New opportunities appeared. New challenges helped me grow. New experiences expanded my perspective.
And somewhere along the way, I met the man who would become my husband.
If there is one message I hope other women take from my story, it is this:
You do not need a perfect beginning to build a meaningful future.
Your path does not need to look like anyone else's.
The setbacks, detours, and unexpected turns are not always obstacles. Sometimes they are the very things leading you toward the life you were meant to build.
I have learned to trust change.
I have learned to listen when opportunity knocks, even when it feels uncomfortable.
I have learned that some of the best decisions in life are the ones that scare us the most.
The career I have today is not the career I was supposed to have.
It is the career I chose to build.
And when I look back on the journey that brought me here, I can't help but smile and think:
What a life.
