It all started in Mexico, Missouri. It wasn\u2019t a fairytale\u2014but it is my story.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
My parents married young and had two children: my sister and me. Like many families, life didn\u2019t unfold exactly as planned, and they eventually divorced. What followed wasn\u2019t instability; it was evolution. My mother later remarried my stepfather, and together they built a full, busy household that included five more children. It was loud, structured, demanding, and rooted in responsibility.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
My stepfather served his community as a police officer before moving into a role as a compliance officer with Norfolk Southern Railway. My mother worked just as hard, first and foremost raising her children,\u00a0volunteering at church, and holding a job with\u00a0Kelly Services, and together they prioritized education, discipline, and opportunity. We attended a private Catholic school, not because it was easy, but because they believed education mattered. Sports, hobbies, and structure weren\u2019t optional; they were part of learning commitment, teamwork, and follow-through.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Life with my father looked very different. He moved to Houston, to the Heights, where he worked as a registered nurse. Later, he became a master colorist in high-end salons and eventually a medical auditor who traveled across the country seeking fairness, accuracy, and compliance. His work took him far and wide, and through him, I saw a different version of service, one rooted in precision, ethics, and asking hard questions.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Growing up between two homes gave me a perspective I didn\u2019t realize was rare at the time. One household emphasized structure and community service; the other emphasized creativity, independence, and accountability. Together, they gave me range. And while the environments were different, the values were remarkably consistent.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Every adult in my life, each in their own way, taught honesty, communication, hard work, and empathy. Those lessons stuck.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I lived with my father while attending elementary school in what some, at the time, referred to as a “war-zone” called\u00a0the Heights. I didn\u2019t know it was dangerous; I was just a kid. Like most kids in the 80’s, I was a latchkey kid. I walked home from school, often stopping by the corner store to bother the cashier and see what new VHS tapes had hit the shelf. Independence wasn\u2019t a philosophy; it was just life.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Middle school took me back to Missouri. High school began in California and ended in Boca Raton, Florida. I\u2019ve quite literally lived from sea to shining sea, experiencing communities that looked, felt, and functioned very differently from one another.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
That early exposure shaped me more than I realized. It taught me that every community has value, every neighborhood has challenges, and people everywhere want many of the same things: safety, opportunity, fairness, and to be seen and heard.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
That search for connection, for my<\/em> community, has stayed with me. And it\u2019s why finding Galveston didn\u2019t feel accidental. It felt like coming home.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Next time, I\u2019ll share more about the adults who influenced me growing up, and how their leadership, service, and expectations shaped who I am today.<\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" It all started in Mexico, Missouri. It wasn\u2019t a fairytale\u2014but it is my story. My parents married young and had two children: my sister and me. Like many families, life didn\u2019t unfold exactly as planned, and they eventually divorced. What followed wasn\u2019t instability; it was evolution. My mother later remarried my stepfather, and together they…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-1","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"yoast_head":"\n