My epilepsy journey has shaped every part of my life, my faith, my motherhood, my teaching, my leadership, and ultimately my purpose. I was forced to grow up fast and carry fears that most people never see. I learned to find strength in the middle of surgeries, seizures, uncertainty, and recovery. Throughout the years, I have endured four brain surgeries, countless appointments, moments of both hope and heartbreak, and the constant pressure of trying to stay strong for everyone around me even when my body felt like it was betraying me.
But epilepsy did not break me. It built me.
I am now a wife, a mom of two beautiful children, James and Isabella, a teacher, a coach, a principal in training, and a woman who refuses to let her diagnosis define who she can or cannot be. My kids have watched me battle through seizures, hospital days, pain, and recovery. I have made it my mission to show them that strength can look soft or tired or messy or determined or beautiful all at once.
I have learned what it feels like to be underestimated. I have learned the exhaustion of balancing motherhood with medical realities. I have faced moments where I questioned my identity, my future, my safety, and my worth. I have also learned what resilience really means. I have learned how to smile through the fear, how to advocate for myself, how to celebrate the victories both big and small, and how to push forward even when nothing feels easy.
Epilepsy changed the way I show up for my students. As a fifth and sixth grade science teacher and a middle school principal in training, I understand the kids who struggle quietly, the ones who feel different, and the ones who mask their pain. I teach with empathy because I have lived the reality of invisible battles. My students see me achieving goals that epilepsy once tried to block, and I use my story to show them that limitations do not get the final say.
One of the biggest turning points in my journey was writing my book titled My Battle With. It started as a way to release everything I had held inside, but it became something bigger. It became a tool for healing, a guide for others who feel alone, and a message to myself that my story deserves to be told. I poured my experiences into chapters about epilepsy, motherhood, mental health, faith, healing, leadership, and identity. I wrote honestly about the moments that scared me, the ones that shaped me, and the ones that pushed me to rise again.
Publishing my book and seeing it placed in a local store in Elyria at Roxy’s Emporium was a full circle moment. After years of battling inside my own mind and body, I finally had something meaningful to show for the pain. Now other people can hold a piece of my journey in their hands and hopefully feel less alone in theirs. I have also been proud to use the book to raise awareness for epilepsy, especially within my Ohio community where I teach and serve.
Today, I continue to share my story because epilepsy awareness is personal to me. It is not just a diagnosis. It is my life. It is my motivation to advocate, educate, and inspire. My journey is not over. I am still growing, still healing, and still fighting, but I choose every day to turn my struggles into strength and my pain into purpose.
Epilepsy will always be a part of me, but it will never be all of me. If my story can help even one person feel seen or safe or understood, then every battle has been worth it.