Eyes To See

The awful realization of year 23 of my life is that I am STILL chasing a Bachelor's degree. More specifically, I am chasing  a bachelor's degree that I am no longer driven towards.  ______________________________________________________ I was 15 years old when I first volunteered at the VA hospital in Denver.  It was there that I experienced the journeys of amputee veterans. As I delved into that world I simultaneously devoured  science classes in school,and was being treated by a physical therapist for sports injuries. It became clear to me that one day I wanted to work with amputee veterans on their physical therapy journey to recovered mobility and life experiences. I have been driven towards that goal since then. I enlisted in the U.S. Army for many more reasons than just that, but it certainly was a really wonderful perk to be able to be of better service to veterans one day because I will count as one as well. Fast forward to 23 years old. My college

Enough - speak up.  Part of m y story- hope for myself and others.  I have walked through a storm in which my voice was stifled, and emerged on the other side. Disclaimer: This is highly exposing for me, but I am not ashamed or worried because exposure helps bring hope and healing to other people. You might need this like I did. It is something exactly like this that helped change my life. We share our stories to strengthen others who need to know that they aren't alone, that someone else understands, and to remind them of hope. Anyway, read on if you please. _________________________________________________________________________________ Its a sad thing... losing your voice... a tragic thing. It is a deceptive, painful, betraying experience. It feels almost like an alternate reality when you wake up and realize you are afraid to speak up for yourself. It feels like a ghost placing foggy impositions over you in more and more noticeable ways. Before you know it you&

Hello friends!                                I wanted to shed some honest light on something because I know social media usually reveals celebrations, highlights, and strengths. While sometimes weaknesses, lessons learned, and struggles are exposed on social media it is certainly not easy to do. Sometimes it may not always behoove us to public service announce struggles as well. OR we find that exposing these things brings support and comfort for ourselves as well as others! We all have different thresholds for what we feel we want to expose or not.                               I recently committed to some serious honesty in these blogs. The feedback I had been receiving from others in day to day conversation indicated relief in feeling empathy about certain experiences. One of the areas that I hear about frequently in conversations is the disconnect between what we do on a daily basis versus what is perceived. Along with this is the pressure that is placed on us to either m

 Hello again!                                                     A couple of years ago I began blogging as I walked through some major shifts in my life (a few of those previous blog posts are published on here under archive). For quite awhile I had to sacrifice time writing for time studying as I  jumped back into my undergraduate degree. I have missed it terribly, but am finally finding time and focus to write as I have been craving.                                The tone of topics now, however, are much different than before because I have moved into different seasons of my life. It would be overwhelming to cover the ground of what has occurred between my last posts and now all at once. I can say that I plan on delving into many of those occurrences and their repercussions...but I can also say that it will not be easy. Admitting the brutal honesty of what it has been like to move into my early 20s with various experiences, challenges, victories, and failures requires a self

Click here to view featured article: Article: "From Beauty Queen to Soldier" BY LOGAN MARIE TORRES At this time last year I was more than likely doing exactly this- sitting in my room typing on my computer. It would have been for a midterm paper though, and it wouldn’t have been so quiet. There is no jingle of a dog collar now. Looking around at a room that was designed for a teenager, it appears as if nothing has changed. If it weren’t for the contrast of pageant crowns sitting on a shelf adjacent to a freshly starched military uniform I could almost trick myself into thinking I’d never left this house. At this time last year I was spoiled with chocolates, like always, from my 90+ year old life mentor whom my family had known since I was a child. This year I bare a tearful smile because I’ve never missed the arrival of a Valentine so dearly in my life. There is so much familiarity in a space that is so different, and so much sorrow in a place of so much love. It doesn

                                                                                            I must have been the goofiest looking  soldier there is as I stepped off the plane into Denver International Airport. After several hours of delays, exposure to drastic climate changes, and over 32 hours without sleep or real food, I can only imagine that my wild smile and constantly wandering gaze made me look hilariously bewildered. Luckily I'd been trained to deal with worse and was in tip top shape to strategize my way through the endless crowds of people at the airport. In actuality though, I was indeed quite bewildered. To be breathing in air with much less oxygen in a place that looked the same but felt very much like an old dream was difficult to absorb.                             This was home. I'd dreamt about it on stressful nights in the barracks. I'd pulled images of it to the forefront of my mind while waiting my turn to crawl head first into courses of mud and