I grew up in rural Michigan on a dairy farm in the Upper Peninsula. The skills of hard work and resilience were taught as soon as you could carry a bucket. We were often covered in mud (by choice) and spent dawn till dusk exploring the fields, forests, and rivers nearby. My family was considered blue collar and patriotic. My father taught me to shoot guns and my mother taught me the importance of a meaningful hug. We didn’t have everything, but it was enough. My parents divorced when I was eleven and I quickly took up photography as a creative outlet. My first artistic pieces consisted of disposable camera prints showcasing the many barn cats in their natural habitat. Since then I’ve advanced my art to a portfolio of seniors, brides, newborns, and families. When I started travel nursing, however, I lost my clientele and had to seek alternative subjects. I never considered myself much of a landscape photographer, I had always chosen human models. One long look in the mirror was all it took to convince myself that I could learn self-portrait photography, document my travels, and share my story along the way. I started my instagram account. This account has become an inspiration to myself and many other individuals who have chosen to follow my story. I use this space as a way to journal my thoughts… and provide future me with a sense of hope. The more people read my writings, the more I have been encouraged to write a book… or start a blog… So here we are today. 

I’m not going to pretend I know everything or give absolute advice. I am a human who makes mistakes, deals with depression, and tries her hardest to be a good friend. My blog’s focus is on encouragement and hope… and I hope you find that here. I talk about a variety of topics, but the one that inspired me to start this website was the need for more open conversations surrounding the mental health of healthcare professionals. During my time in emergency medicine, I have held painful conversations with coworkers about things they have witnessed and shed tears for patients we have lost. As a travel nurse, I see people who come to work knowing no one and heading home to deal with their emotions just the same. When you’re in one place for a few short months, when is there time to build a community to lean on?

These experiences have opened my eyes to the need for a tribe and a sense of belonging. If we don’t take it upon ourselves to start the conversation, who will?