Long before the stages, speaking engagements, and leadership roles, there was a young girl carrying pain no child should have to carry.

That pain became part of the fire that pushed me to heal, reclaim my story, find my voice, and eventually help other people find theirs.

Along the way, I found my way back to my Latina, Irish, and Native American roots, and to something I now know deep in my bones: worthiness isn’t something we earn. It’s something we remember.

For more than 30 years, my work in the nonprofit world has taken me into boardrooms, communities, fundraisers, classrooms, and some pretty unexpected places. I’ve raised money, advocated, led teams, told stories, dreamed big, screwed a few things up, learned a lot, and experienced enough plot twists to fill a book. Maybe two.

Somewhere in all of it, I started coming home to myself.

Do I have it all figured out? Not even close. Pretty sure that would take all the fun out of it anyway.

Underneath all those titles, I’m a cowgirl at heart. Creative. Intuitive. A little wild. I believe in the Great Spirit, good people, second chances, belly laughs, and ideas that sound slightly crazy right up until they work.

And trying to be who everyone else thinks I should be? Been there. Tried that. No bueno.

These days, I’m learning to trust myself, listen to that little voice that seems to know things before my head catches up, and have the courage to say, “Girl, go.”

Because maybe the work isn’t about becoming someone new at all.

Maybe it’s remembering who the hell you were before the world started telling you who you should be.