At 16, I tore my ACL. At the time, I was simply a teenager trying to get back to soccer and skiing. But that injury was also my first real experience with medicine. I remember the uncertainty of not knowing what came next, the trust I placed in my surgeon, and the feeling of watching someone take something foreign and make it understandable. What began as a personal experience gradually became a calling: I wanted to be the person who could help someone else feel less afraid and more hopeful.

That path ultimately led me to pediatric orthopedics. I love the combination of surgery and problem-solving, but what keeps me here is helping children get back to the things that make them who they are. An injury can feel enormous to a child. Before I talk about the X-ray or the MRI, I want to talk to the child. I want to know what they are worried about, what they love to do and what they hope to get back to. For one child, that might mean getting back to gymnastics or football. For another, it might mean marching band or simply being able to walk around Silver Dollar City without pain. I want them to feel that they have a voice in what happens next. Sometimes earning a child's trust is as important as anything I do in the operating room.

Over the years, patients and their families have taught me that medicine is ultimately about relationships. The moments that stay with me are not necessarily the most technically complicated cases. They are the ones when a child comes back smiling, when a parent tells me their child can finally use a piece of playground equipment they had never been able to use before, or when a family says we made a difficult time feel less frightening. Those moments remind me why this work matters.

Coming to Northwest Arkansas has allowed me to build more than a practice. It has allowed me to build a life. Helping grow pediatric orthopedic care at Arkansas Children's Northwest and serving in leadership has given me the opportunity to think beyond individual patients and consider what our community needs for the long term. Building something that makes high-quality pediatric specialty care more accessible to Northwest Arkansas families is deeply meaningful to me.

Being a woman in a highly specialized surgical field has also shaped how I think about leadership. I have been fortunate to work in an organization where I have seen women lead at the highest level, and that example matters. I have learned that confidence does not mean having every answer. It means being willing to ask questions, listen, make decisions and keep moving forward. I feel a responsibility to do the same for other women, to mentor and encourage them and make sure their voices are heard as they grow into their own careers and leadership roles.

Motherhood has also shaped the way I care for families, especially when we are faced with difficult decisions. When I am weighing surgical or treatment options, I often ask myself what I would do if this were my own child. Thinking about it that way helps me understand what a family is going through, but it also makes me stronger in my convictions when I believe a certain treatment is the right path. I never want to recommend something for someone else's child that I would not choose for my own. Being a mother has made it easier to put myself in a family's shoes while also giving me greater clarity when they look to me for guidance during a difficult moment.

I feel incredibly fortunate to call Northwest Arkansas home. I love that life here makes room for family, community and an active, outdoor lifestyle. Looking ahead, I am excited not simply to advance my career, but to keep building: better care for children, stronger teams, opportunities for the women coming behind me, and a life my family can be proud of. For me, that is the privilege of medicine: caring for people today while helping shape what is possible tomorrow.