Michele Billings, LVN, CDP, SHSS

"Growing up, we often mistake discipline for restriction. As teenagers, we push back against the structure, not yet wise enough to see what it's really for, protection, preparation, and love. My parents understood something I had to grow into, that raising strong people requires more than comfort; it requires conviction.

They were tireless. Restaurants, car washes, storage units, every venture they touched was run with an almost quiet excellence. Immaculate. Purposeful. They weren't chasing recognition; they were building something. And more than the businesses, they were building us.

The community knew them for their kindness and their work ethic, in equal measure. That combination, warmth and diligence, isn't something you're taught in a classroom. It's something you witness, day after day, until it becomes part of who you are.

Losing them was one of the hardest chapters of my life. But I carry them into every decision I make. In how I show up for my clients. In the standards I hold myself to. In the pride I take in the work.

I don't just honor their memory, I try to be their legacy."

"The best career advice I ever received came from a nurse practitioner who saw something in me before I fully saw it in myself. She watched how I showed up for people, how I explained things, how I listened, how I stayed, and she encouraged me to stop fitting myself into a corporate mold and step into what I was already naturally doing, advocating for the seniors I worked with daily.

She didn't just suggest a career pivot. She reflected back to me a gift I had been giving freely for years without ever naming it. That moment of being truly seen by someone I respected was the spark I needed to bet on myself. I went all in. I started Balance of Care, and it has been the most transformative decision of my professional life. Sometimes the clearest path forward is the one someone else has to point out, and I will always be grateful she did."

"A clinical background helps, but it's not what makes a great advocate.

The most important thing is following your heart and being willing to show up as your full, authentic self. In this work, you have to read the room. You have to recognize where someone is emotionally, meet them at their level, and communicate in a way that actually reaches them. Every person is different. Some clients want warmth and quiet reassurance. Others want to laugh, to feel normal, to forget for a moment that they're navigating something hard. Knowing the difference, and being able to move fluidly between those spaces, is everything.

We joke that you need multiple personalities for this job. But really, what you need is genuine compassion and the willingness to be real. At its core, any role that involves people is customer service. And the fastest way to earn someone's trust isn't expertise or credentials, it's showing up as exactly who you are, without pretense, and caring about them like you mean it.

That authenticity isn't a soft skill. It's the foundation."

"My biggest challenge? Honestly, it's me.

I give too much away. Free consultations that run long, services I discount because I can see someone is struggling, follow-ups I do because it's the right thing, not because it's billable. My heart gets in the way of my bottom line, and I know it. The financial side of running a business is something I'm still learning to navigate, and I'm grateful to have a supportive husband who has believed in this vision enough to help fund it while I grow. The business is gaining momentum, people are finding us, the word is spreading, but learning to honor the value of what I provide, and charge accordingly, is a discipline I'm actively working on.

I think a lot of people in caregiving fields struggle with this. When your work is rooted in compassion, putting a price on it can feel uncomfortable. But I've come to understand that sustainable advocacy requires a sustainable business, and I can't keep showing up for others if I'm not also protecting what I've built."

"Dignity and respect, those aren't just professional values for me. They're personal ones.

It's easy, in the business of life, to forget that there is a whole person behind every medical chart, every care plan, every difficult conversation. A person with a history, with fears, with feelings, with an entire life wrapped up in what they're experiencing right now.

When I turned 50, something shifted in me. I realized I have fewer years ahead than behind, and that awareness has a way of clarifying what matters. It made me more committed than ever to the work I do, because I understand, now more personally than ever, what it means to sense time passing and to want someone to treat you like you still matter. So much of the agitation and frustration we see in elderly clients isn't behavioral, it's fear. It's anxiety. It's a loss of control over a life they built. When you can slow down, sit with that, and meet someone in their reality rather than fighting against it, everything changes. Patience and calm aren't just kindness, they're clinical tools. At the end of the day, every person I work with deserves to have their dignity honored and their experience respected. That's not a policy. That's the foundation of everything."