Public failure can feel humiliating; like everyone is watching you fall and silently deciding what you're capable of. For me, some of my biggest setbacks came from being told "no" over and over again; not getting hired when I knew I was qualified, having to start as a contractor for years before finally being brought on full time, and balancing career growth while raising a family. There were moments I questioned myself and wondered if I should give up and take an easier path. But instead of letting those moments define me, I chose to let them prepare me. I kept investing in my education, learning new skills, and showing up with excellence; even when no one was watching. I trusted that every closed door was building resilience, not rejection. Over time, those experiences shaped me into a stronger professional and opened opportunities I once thought were out of reach. Today, as a Feedstock Coordinator in a challenging industry, I look back and realize those "failures" were actually the foundation of my growth. My biggest lesson is this: public setbacks don't disqualify you; they refine you. Stay consistent, believe in yourself, and don't let temporary seasons stop you from long-term purpose.

Failure is failure, public or private it stings. It wasn't until my 3rd attempt in 20 years, that I finished an Ironman triathlon. After tries 1 and 2 I had to accept that the course won and take some time to process the emotions. Disappointment in myself, frustration that I let my supporters down, sadness, anger that I was so close and couldn't get it done, acceptance of defeat, and faith in myself to keep going all mixed together. I believed I was destined to get across that finish line and that I would have to dig as deep as I ever had; to go through nine months of grueling training, fatigue, injuries, to try one last time. What I learned through this whole experience is that recovery wasn't just physical, it was learning to stand back up in front of everyone who had watched me fall. Carrying the weight of visible failure, choosing to try again anyway, and trusting that persistence mattered more than pride is what finally carried me to that finish line.

Failure feels louder in public, but growth is always quieter. Growth is also subtle; it happens while we're busy doubting it. Step back. Sometimes we need distance to see the distance we've crossed. The person you are now would have amazed the version of you who began. And if we never messed up, we'd never move forward.

WHY I BUILT THE KEYY FOUNDATION- FROM A MOTHER'S HEART Some parts of grief never get easier; they just grow quieter. But purpose has a way of giving that pain somewhere to go. I built The Keyy Foundation from a place only a mother can understand. Losing my daughter changed my entire world, but it also opened my eyes to how many other people are carrying silent battles like diabetes, financial strain, grief, fear, and the feeling of being alone. I can't change what happened to my daughter, but I can honor who she was. Keyy was light. She was laughter. She was the kind of person who made others feel seen. Today, her spirit guides every part of this foundation from compassion, transparency, and the commitment to showing up for people who need support. We are not a medical organization nor a support foundation but a place of comfort, supplies, dignity, and community. Every kit we assemble, every comfort letter we write, every partnership we build… it all comes from that same place in my heart that still loves her fiercely. If you've ever turned your pain into purpose, you understand this journey, and if you haven't, I hope our work reminds you that you never have to walk through hard seasons alone. Thank you for supporting The Keyy Foundation as we grow, learn, and serve. Even on the nights when sleep is hard to find because my mind is racing with ideas, plans, and prayers for how to keep building this foundation, I have never lost my faith. That faith is what carries me through every restless night and every new challenge. With this same faith, I will continue striving for success, not for myself, but for every family who needs support, dignity, and hope.