Clear Truths in Quiet Seasons

2025 has carried some of the most isolating seasons of my adult life - moments that stretched me, and continue to stretch me, personally and professionally in ways I never anticipated. I am learning what it means to stand alone differently, and if I’m honest, it’s uncomfortable. It’s quiet. It asks more of me than I ever imagined I had to give. Yet within that stillness, I’m rediscovering something steady and undeniable: I can rely on myself.

We don’t talk enough about the journey back to yourself after chasing the “dream job,” the polished vision of motherhood, the weight of being the “good eldest daughter,” the dependable big sister, or the partner you believed you were supposed to be. There is a real grief in realizing that some roles don’t hold you the way you hoped they would, but there is also a deep freedom in loosening your grip on expectations that were never meant to define you.

Being back here feels different. Grounded. Familiar in a way I didn’t recognize at first. It's like returning to a home that was never a physical place, but a version of me I had quietly been searching for all along.

I was always that girl. Even in rooms where I wasn’t fully seen. Even in seasons that tried to convince me otherwise.

I am strong.

I am brilliant.

And it is never too late to fight for yourself. 

MLK Day

Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. is often remembered for his words about dreams, but he was equally committed to action. 

His work challenged systems, disrupted comfort, and demanded accountability from institutions that were failing people.

That matters deeply to me as a physician.

Healthcare, at its best, is an expression of justice. 

At its worst, it reflects the very inequities Dr. King warned us about - unequal access, unheard voices, and outcomes that depend more on zip code or race than biology.

Dr. King once said, “Of all the forms of inequality, injustice in health care is the most shocking and inhumane.”

Decades later, that statement still lands with uncomfortable accuracy.

Honoring Dr. King means asking hard questions:

• Who feels safe seeking care?

• Whose pain is believed?

• Who benefits from our systems—and who is burdened by them?

It also means acting on the answers.

For me, that action looks like advocating for maternal health equity, mentoring future physicians who will serve marginalized communities, and refusing to accept “this is how it’s always been” as an answer.

MLK Day is not just a remembrance.

It’s a responsibility.

The dream survives only if we keep building it - one policy, one patient, one courageous conversation at a time.

Happy King Day. 

New Year Musings

Happy New Year!

I’m starting this new year quietly and slowly with cozy in PJs, wrapped in a soft blanket, surrounded by my family, and a journal in hand. Maybe a little football, too, because this Wolverine in Indiana can’t help but root for the state school in the Rose Bowl today.

2025 was heavy for so many of us. But as I scrolled through my camera roll {while making my TikTok post, of course}, I noticed that even in the heaviness, there were moments of joy and for those, I am deeply grateful. 

This past year really made me lean into the saying: “Two things can be true at once.”

I can feel sadness for the time that slips away while cherishing the memories that will always remain in my heart, and at the same time, I can feel excitement for what the future holds.

I can be angry about things that happened and still hold space for the lessons that are shaping me into someone stronger.

I can continue fighting for what I know is right, but not yet so, and I can also pause to celebrate my wins.

God is so good to me.

Right now, three things are bringing me joy:

1. Family time. I am truly most content at home, with my people, in our little bubble.
2. Cat-eye nail polish. Any color version—I’m obsessed.
3. Olivia Dean. Anything by her, but “Lady, Lady” is on constant repeat. And the music video? Makes me love it even more.

Here’s to a new year filled with space for all our truths, big and small.