I am many things at once, and I carry each role with intention, reverence, and fire. First and foremost, I am the profoundly lucky mother of an 11-year-old son who is my absolute world. He is my compass and my grounding force, the reason I continue to choose growth, courage, and integrity even on the hardest days. Motherhood has sharpened my empathy, expanded my patience, and taught me how deeply love can anchor a person to purpose. I am also a therapist, devoted to working with adults 18 and older who are navigating the complexity of substance use disorders. I sit with people in their most vulnerable moments, holding space for shame, grief, relapse, resilience, and hope. My work is rooted in the belief that healing is not linear, and that survival itself is an act of strength. I do not fear the dark places, professionally or personally, because I have learned that transformation often begins there. I am a student again, returning to academia with clarity and resolve. I am pursuing my Master’s degree in Social Work, with plans to continue on to earn my doctoral degree and ultimately open my own private practice. Education, for me, is not about titles, it is about deepening my capacity to serve, to advocate, and to bring ethical, trauma-informed care to those who are so often misunderstood or overlooked. And I am an artist, unapologetically drawn to the macabre, the eerie, the beautifully unsettling. I am obsessed with dark, creepy art and the twisted, shadowed nature of the human psyche. My work lives in those spaces we are taught to suppress: fear, grief, rage, longing, and fragmentation. I have begun a collection centered on mental health diagnoses, using art as a language to externalize what is often invisible and stigmatized. I allow my emotions and my darkness to bleed into the canvas, not to glorify pain, but to give it form, meaning, and voice. I am a mother who loves fiercely, a therapist who sits with suffering, a scholar committed to lifelong learning, and an artist who refuses to look away from the shadows. I am not afraid of complexity, because I am made of it.