There was a moment recently when everything seemed to pause, and I could finally see how far I had come. It felt like a lightning bolt—sudden, overwhelming, and hard to ignore. I remember thinking, How did I get here? I am in graduate school, and I was recently accepted into the LBJ Women's Campaign School. For a moment, it didn't feel real. Part of me still wanted to say, Who is this? This can't be me. The girl who once worked at the front desk answering phones, directing calls, just trying to get through the day. For a long time, I carried the belief that I was "nobody from nowhere." But when I stopped and really looked back, I saw something different. I saw 20 years of showing up for students, for families, for my community. I saw the work of helping students regulate their emotions, find their voice, learn, and feel supported. I saw the quiet, consistent impact that doesn't always get recognized in the moment. And now, that same work has brought me into new spaces, reading policy briefs, building networks, and stepping into rooms where decisions are being made. Spaces I once thought were not meant for someone like me. That moment shifted something. It helped me realize that progress isn't always loud or immediate. Sometimes it is built quietly, over years of doing the work, even when no one is watching. I am no longer questioning whether I belong in these spaces. I am learning to recognize that I have earned my place in them, and that I have a responsibility to use my voice to help shape what comes next.

For years, whenever I had a slow day at work, I would sit down and write out my goals and visions for the future. I remember a defining moment while working for the state under a difficult leader. I wasn't fulfilled, and for the first time, I found myself questioning the passion that had always driven me. That's when I knew something had to change. So, I got intentional. On June 20, 2018, I created a goal sheet. I mapped out everything - 1-year goals, 2-year goals, 5-year goals, 5–7, 5–10, and even what I called my "infinity and beyond" goals. I carried that paper with me everywhere. It became my reminder that I was capable of more. I did not stop moving towards my goals, but eventually, life got busy, and I forgot about that list. Years later, while moving, I found it again. And in that moment, I realized—I had accomplished everything on that list, within the timeframes I set for myself. There were still some items remaining in the 5-7 years or 5-10 years categories, but everything under 5 years was accomplished. That was the pause I didn't know I needed. It shifted something in me. I've always been future-focused, always pushing toward the next goal, the next level, the next vision. But finding that paper reminded me that progress isn't just about what's ahead...it's also about honoring how far you've already come. Now, I'm more intentional about celebrating the journey, not just chasing the destination. Because life is beautiful. And while vision is important, so is presence. Don't get so caught up planning your future that you forget to live in and appreciate your present.

I was diagnosed with an autoimmune condition in my early 20s just as I was preparing to go to graduate school. As you can imagine, this was devastating news. I was told by my specialist that I would not walk within the year and would likely need to be on disability. At a time when most adults are looking towards all of the future possibilities they can chase, it felt like my opportunities crumbled before my eyes. When receiving news as of this magnitude, it is hard to retain hope. Despite this, I continued on with graduate school, pushing my way through the pain and chronic fatigue. I achieved my masters degree 2 years later in social work and began my career as a therapist. Now 21 years in the field, I have maintained full time work, assisted many in profound healing and have held several leadership positions. I have honed in on incredible skills and have never stopped growing in a career I love. I say as active as I can and still walk on my own today. Though I have required 2 surgeries and ongoing medical visits for my incurable condition I have defied the odds. Recently I was engaging in physical therapy to recover from an ankle fusion from my condition destroying my ankle joint. I found myself frustrated in this particular session with wanting to do more than my body was likely ready to handle. The physical therapist gently pointed out this viewpoint I was coming with. He shared that although he shouldn't compare patients, he shared recently working with a client with my same condition (who was much younger than me) and was currently working on recovering from her 10th surgery. He encouraged me to be grateful for how hard I have worked in my journey and that my situation could be much worse. I took the time that day to reflect on how much work I have put in to help myself as much as I could to be as strong and healthy as I could be despite my vulnerability. I still walk. I am raising 3 children. I have maintained a full time job throughout my adulthood. I am largely healthy and fit for what I have. I keep growing, studying and learning to be at my best for those I assist. Sometimes it takes someone outside of us to remind us of what we cannot see because we are so focused on the summit that we forget to look back at the distance we have traveled. Some may never reach the summit but we still persevered, tried and grew with no promises in the end. It is a skill of resilience and strength to continue to reflect on all we do. It is important we do this for ourselves, but also others.

In a world of social media and constant comparing, I had to learn how to filter out the noise and focus on the things that got me up out of bed everyday. My journey is MINE. I am one of one and I am creating my own path to walk on that works for me and my family. I can't be anyone else but myself; move at a pace where I am not overwhelmed or stressed. Focusing on what I have already accomplished and setting mini goals for myself along the way has provided me with the peace of knowing that eventually I will accomplish all that I have set out to do.

Pausing to reflect on how far I've come isn't something that comes naturally to me. I'm constantly balancing ambition with the need to create more balance in my life, and I tend to stay focused on what's next rather than what's already been accomplished. The moment that truly shifted my perspective came during a period of transition. After many years as a multi-unit operations leader at Rite Aid, I made the decision to give notice and move on to a new chapter. What stood out most wasn't just the decision itself, but how my team and colleagues showed up for me afterward. The support, the celebration, and the genuine appreciation they expressed made me pause in a way I hadn't before. It was the first time I really allowed myself to see the impact I had made through the people I had developed and the culture we built together. Starting fresh and then building strong connections with a new team reinforced that even more. It helped me realize that what I had accomplished wasn't situational or by chance. It was a reflection of the leader I had grown into. That experience changed how I view my progress. Instead of only focusing on what's next, I've started to recognize the importance of pausing, reflecting, and acknowledging the impact along the way.

For a long time, I was so focused on what still needed to be done that I rarely stopped to look back. I was always moving to the next goal, the next responsibility, the next step forward. But one day, I found myself in a high school business class, teaching, and I paused for just a second. I looked around and realized I was no longer the woman trying to figure out how to get through the next day. I was the one standing at the front of the room, doing something I had dreamed about since I was a little girl, helping others build their future. That moment shifted everything for me. It was not just about the degree or the career. It was about recognizing the distance between where I started and where I am now. I began to see that progress is not always loud or obvious. Sometimes it shows up quietly in the roles we step into, the confidence we carry, and the lives we are able to impact. What helped me see my progress differently was realizing that my growth did not come from perfect conditions. It came from determination, passion, and a lot of chaos. It came from showing up on the hard days, pushing forward when things felt uncertain, and choosing not to give up. I started allowing myself to pause and acknowledge how far I have come, not just focusing on what is ahead, but recognizing what I have already overcome. And I remind myself often that growth is happening, even when it does not feel like it. It goes back to something I truly believe: know your worth. Part of that is recognizing your progress, owning your journey, and giving yourself credit for how far you have come.

It's easy to focus on everything that still needs to be done instead of recognizing how far we've already come. There are many moments when I have to pause and remind myself of my progress. Balancing being a mom, a leader, and everything in between does feel overwhelming at times. I like things to go as planned but life doesn't always work that way. What's helped me shift my perspective is therapy, meditation, self-care, and trusting my faith. Those things have grounded me and reminded me to slow down. Some days I grow, some days I rest but I'm not who I was yesterday. And that matters.