I Am More Than One Thing

I am a lot of things. And for a long time, I thought I had to pick which ones mattered most.

I’m a mom, which means my heart has lived outside my body more times than I can count.

I’m a spouse, learning every day that love is not static, it stretches, deepens, bends, and sometimes asks more of you than you think you have.

I’m a sister and a friend, shaped by shared history, inside jokes, hard conversations, and the quiet understanding that comes from being seen.

I am a scientist, trained to question, analyze, and follow evidence, even when it leads somewhere uncomfortable.

I am a teacher, because knowledge only matters when it’s shared in a way that empowers someone else.

I am a colleague, collaborator, and lifelong learner, constantly reminded that none of us do meaningful work alone.

I am a nutritionist, but not the kind who believes food should be feared, counted, or used as a weapon against ourselves. I believe food is information, connection, culture, and care.

I am an environmentalist and nature lover, because the health of our bodies has never been separate from the health of the world that sustains us.

I am a birder, a hiker, a beach-goer, someone who finds grounding in trees, water, sky, and the quiet miracle of noticing.

I am a dog and cat lover, which means my life has been softened and expanded by paws, fur, unconditional presence, and the simple wisdom of beings who live fully in the moment.

I love all creatures on this earth, the wild ones, the quiet ones, the misunderstood ones, because every living being has a place and a purpose and a right to be here and not suffer which are the reasons I don't eat them.

I am a walker, a cross-country skier, a snowshoer, someone who moves not to punish my body, but to inhabit it.

I am a tea drinker, because there is something sacred in slowing down long enough to hold a warm cup and breathe.

I am a traveler, not just across miles, but across seasons of life, perspectives, and beliefs. I am a spiritualist, still learning, still listening, still trusting that meaning often shows up quietly.

I am a writer and an author, because words are how I make sense of the world, and how I reach for connection when silence isn’t enough.

I am a music lover and an artist, moved by sound, color, and creativity in all its forms. I am a witness, a listener, a holder of stories, mine and others’.

And yes, I love humor, because laughter has carried me through moments when logic and strength alone were not enough. Humor is how I stay human.

And I am a cancer survivor.

That part of me didn’t ask permission to arrive, and it changed everything. It taught me that life is fragile and fierce at the same time. That health is not guaranteed. That resilience is not about being strong all the time, it’s about continuing to choose life, meaning, and care even when the ground shifts beneath you.

Cancer did not define me, but it did clarify me. It stripped away what didn’t matter and sharpened my sense of purpose. It deepened my compassion. It made my work more personal, my teaching more urgent, my love more intentional.

I am also someone who has doubted, grieved, failed, fell, rebuilt, started over, and kept going.

I am someone who believes in community, in science with humanity, in health without shame, and in living fully, even imperfectly.

I am all these things at once. Not neatly. Not always gracefully. But honestly.

And if there’s one thing I know for sure, it’s this: We are never just one thing. We are stories layered on stories, shaped by experience, love, loss, curiosity, and hope.

This is who I am.

And I’m still becoming.