I work for Child Protective Services. Some people flinch when they hear that, like I must live in heartbreak all day. And sometimes, sure, the work is heavy. But mostly, it’s about showing up. Listening. Fighting for people who don’t have anyone else fighting for them.

I went to school for psychology. Moved up north for college and stayed. It’s not where I’m from—Charleston’s still home in a lot of ways—but Philly made me who I am as an adult. It gave me perspective. It taught me how to be steady in the middle of chaos.

I grew up with three younger sisters and a mother who could carry the weight of the world and still set the table like the Queen of England was coming to dinner. My dad was gone a lot for work, but when he was home, he made it count. We had stability, love, structure—and I know how rare that is. It shaped me.

I believe in doing the work. In showing up when it’s hard. In loving people even when they’re messy and complicated and hurting. That’s not just what I do. It’s who I am.

Some people look away. I don’t. I meet the hard things head-on. And I try, every day, to leave things better than I found them.