My story starts in a 5th-grade classroom, under fluorescent lights that shined off of the laminated desks with a fake wood color. At the top of my desk specifically was a piece of paper, with tape curling at the edges from time, and my own fiddling. It contained specific days and times that I was meant to leave my peers and join a separate class of students with IEPs. I struggle with words and reading. One of my funnier instances with it being when I texted a friend a picture of my coffee with the caption "nectar of the dogs." I like to think 'g-d' and 'dog' has the same letters for good reason. But, leaving class was something I dreaded. I felt like an outsider, I felt like I had to catch up to the rest of the class when I returned, and I felt like I was seen as not good enough. So, I attempted to 'forget' to go to these separate classes. With all my elementary school might, I would hope my teachers would forget too.  My might was never that strong. So one day, my teacher got a call and proceeded to cuss me out in front of the entire class. Well, she didn't cuss me out, but the feeling of hurt and frustration was all the same. with my dyslexia. School was never easy, but I refused to let that define me. I worked hard and earned my spot at the University of Colorado Boulder. It was there that I had a revelation: storytelling has always been my passion.

While I know firsthand that working hard takes you far in life, I would have never been able to get a solid education without scholarships, jobs, and student loans. Because of that, one of my life goals is to fund scholarships for students who need assistance affording school and to offer pro-bono marketing help and marketing grants for small businesses to kickstart their marketing and help their businesses thrive.