I am a stage 3 melanoma survivor. Those words alone hold years of fear, surgeries, appointments, and the quiet determination it took to keep going when giving up would have been easier. Surviving cancer changed me. It forced me to face my own mortality and dig deeper than I ever thought possible. I fought for my life once, and that strength still lives inside me. Even on the days when I feel exhausted or overwhelmed, I remind myself: I have already survived something that tried to take me out.

I am a full-time working parent of two children, one of whom has autism. My days begin early and end late. I work full time, I go to school full time, and in between I am a constant source of love, support, advocacy, and stability for my kids. My son with autism sees the world in a way that is uniquely beautiful and deeply honest. Parenting him requires patience, resilience, and endless energy — but it is also one of my greatest privileges. Everything I do, every sacrifice I make, is rooted in my love for my children and my determination to give them a better future.

Financially, though, the weight feels relentless. After child support obligations and bills are paid, I am often left with almost nothing for two weeks at a time. I stretch every dollar. I worry about rent, about groceries, about keeping the lights on. I work hard — harder than most people see — yet it feels like I’m constantly treading water, barely staying afloat. There is no cushion. No room for error. Just survival mode, over and over again.

And yet, even in the middle of the struggle, I carry a dream. I dream of owning a home — a stable, safe place that belongs to us. A place where my kids can feel secure, where we don’t have to fear rent increases or instability. That dream keeps me going through the long workdays, the late-night school assignments, the financial stress, and the emotional exhaustion. I am not just surviving. I am building. Slowly, imperfectly, and with grit forged through cancer, motherhood, work, and sacrifice. I may be struggling right now, but I am still standing — and that alone is proof that I am stronger than my circumstances.