When people read my story, I hope they see hope itself—a woman who refused to give up, even when life asked everything of her.
Born at just twenty-seven weeks, I entered this world already fighting. From the very beginning, I carried a drive not only to survive, but to truly thrive. At the age of two, I was diagnosed with Cerebral Palsy, a neurological disorder caused by trauma to the brain that affects how signals travel from the brain to the body’s extremities. I have full use of only my left arm and rely heavily on my power wheelchair for mobility. I depend on others for many physical aspects of daily life, including personal care, transferring, and transportation. Yet despite these physical limitations, I have lived a life that is full, active, and rich with purpose.
When people see my wheelchair, many assume that my greatest challenges stem from my disability. Surprisingly, that has not been the case. The hardest battle I have faced is one shared by millions of people every day—anxiety.
I began experiencing severe anxiety in 2014, following a series of traumatic events that culminated in a matter of minutes and changed my life forever. It felt as though a switch had been flipped—my natural optimism replaced by constant fear and negativity. While many aspects of my life had always been outside of my control due to my physical dependence on others, my thoughts and perspective had always been mine. Anxiety took that from me, and losing control of my own mind was terrifying. It soon consumed every part of my life, and I couldn’t see a way out. I suffered from nightmares and frequent panic attacks. At its worst, I stayed awake for thirty-two hours straight, and two panic attacks caused me to black out, resulting in concussions. I was breathing, but I was no longer truly living. Hopelessness set in, and I would be lying if I said I never contemplated taking my own life. I was exhausted. I felt finished.
When my anxiety began to seriously affect my physical health, I realized it was not something I could overcome alone. Seeking professional help was one of the hardest steps I’ve ever taken. I had always prided myself on my mental strength and my ability to overcome obstacle after obstacle independently. For years, I struggled in silence. When I finally found the courage to open up, my vulnerability was used against me. I was told I was “crazy” and that I needed help—not with compassion, but with judgment. When I needed support the most, it wasn’t there. I felt deeply misunderstood, isolated, and alone.
In 2016, I was diagnosed with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD). While the diagnosis hurt, it also brought an unexpected sense of relief. It validated my experience and reassured me that what I was going through was real—that I wasn’t losing my mind. As difficult as it was to seek treatment, it became the best decision I could have made. It marked the very first step of my healing journey.
“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans for welfare and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope.” —Jeremiah 29:11. My faith has been a journey of its own, one too deep to fully explain here. But I can say this with certainty: no one is ever too far gone for the Lord. He never stops pursuing us. Accepting Him into my heart and my life has been transformative. My faith has played a crucial role in my journey toward acceptance, forgiveness, and healing. He has given me a peace that nothing else ever could. God never wastes suffering—there is purpose in pain.
As challenging as 2020 was for so many, it became an unexpected blessing in disguise for me. Shelter-in-place forced me to slow down and confront what I had been avoiding for years. Though uncomfortable and painful, this time allowed me to finally feel what I needed to feel and process what I needed to process in order to continue healing.
While my anxiety surfaced in 2014, its roots run much deeper. For years, I endured harsh criticism—not constructive, but deeply wounding—from people whose opinions mattered to me most. Over time, I found myself striving for unattainable perfection, constantly trying to please others. I began to see myself through the eyes of my critics, their voices echoing in my head and causing me to question my intentions and decisions. I have also witnessed and experienced things throughout my life that I cannot unsee or unhear, no matter how hard I try. Some of these experiences profoundly shaped my life, even influencing my career path. Though anxiety often feels irrational, I’ve learned it can be a form of protection—the mind and body’s attempt to prevent past pain from repeating itself. When we are weakest, the enemy takes hold, and that is what happened to me.
In November of 2020, I was given the incredible opportunity to skydive—something I had always dreamed of doing. The timing felt like a true “Godsidence.” Skydiving symbolized healing for me: releasing fear, letting go of negativity, and trusting fully. It was the biggest leap of faith I’ve ever taken, in every sense of the phrase. I chose to trust my instructor, and more importantly, I chose to trust the Lord. “Not my will, but Yours be done.”
Anxiety doesn’t simply disappear, but it doesn’t have to control your life either. It can be managed. Living with anxiety is nothing to be ashamed of, and you are not alone. I’ve learned that some of the strongest people live with anxiety, and those who appear to have it all together are often just doing their best to keep going. Changing your perspective truly can change your life. One of the most powerful tools in my healing has been learning how to turn pain into purpose.
One day, you will tell your story—how you survived what you’re going through now—and it will become part of someone else’s survival guide. Together, we can end the stigma surrounding mental illness. And for anyone who needs to hear this today: You are enough. It does get better. There is hope. If I can make it through, so can you.
