I’m a middle school PE teacher. My background is in sports, movement, and organized chaos. My resume doesn’t include an MFA or a bestselling memoir. But it does involve surviving chronic Lyme disease, parenting two incredible teenage boys who seem as if they were born on different planets, and learning to move through the world with empathy, grit, and presence.

One of my sons is academic, on the spectrum, and has a profound love for animals. He processes life through movement and thoughtful observation. The other is hands-on and heart-forward, happiest on his bike, with mud on his jeans or tools in his hands. Together, they’ve taught me how differently people experience the world and how powerful it is to meet each person exactly where they are.

I’m a middle child, a self-proclaimed jack-of-all-trades and master of none, and a photographer who has fallen in love with capturing emotion in motion. Somewhere between gym whistles and shutter clicks, I realized that what truly connects us are stories—genuine, honest, unfiltered stories that allow us to feel seen.

I fell in love with the Camino de Santiago not only for its breathtaking landscapes, but for what it awakens in people of all ages. There is something sacred about walking alongside strangers who slowly begin to feel like friends, and if you're lucky enough, family. I’ve shared laughter, silence, tears, band-aids, and wine with pilgrims and albergue hosts who offered safety and connection.

I’ve experienced suffering, heartache, and the long road back to myself. I know how heavy life can feel when it seems like you’re walking on your own. I wrote One Step at a Time to remind my students, my friends, my family, and anyone who is struggling that even when life unravels, there is still a way forward.

And sometimes, that way forward is one step at a time.

So no, I’m not the traditional author type. But I am a listener, a feeler, a walker, and a storyteller.

And this story needed to be told.