Going Forward and The Mission

As mentioned before, going through an integration and a global pandemic simultaneously was no small feat. I truly believe COVID reshaped the way our industry operates, for better or worse, I still find myself questioning that today.

For the first time in my life, I was sitting at a computer more than I ever had before (yes, even in college—because let’s be honest, I wasn’t the most dedicated student back then). Team meetings shifted from gathering in client homes or the office to staring at each other through a screen. Supervisions were conducted over the phone, checking in to ensure safety more than connection.

Slowly, I realized my daily interaction with the very people I entered this field to support was fading.

I was now supervising as the Assistant Regional Manager, yes, you could call me the Assistant to the Regional Manager (The Office fans, you get it!). I worked side by side with my former supervisor, tackling incredibly hard things together. I learned more during this time than I ever could have imagined.

I was learning how to support people differently. To listen more. To observe more. To be the kind of manager I wanted to be: upbeat, encouraging, and positive. But that wasn’t always easy. Showing up every day with a smile, being “that person” for others, it’s draining. I’ve always been someone who shows my best face and rarely talks about my own struggles, even with friends or family. Carrying that daily takes its toll.

Fast forward to December 2022, when I was told—yes, told—that our region was being split and I was now the Regional Manager of my section of the state. Woohoo, I was no longer Dwight (another nod to The Office). But the change came suddenly, with little time to process. And just like that, I was on my own.

It was scary, but as always, I knew I needed to persevere.

My time as Regional Manager was both rewarding and exhausting. I had tough conversations, stared down budgets, and worked on growing the company. Yet, with every step up the ladder, I felt myself moving further from the clients and families, the heart of why I started this work in the first place. I only saw them at events, and even then, briefly.

I told myself this was just what happens when you “grow” professionally: your role shifts from direct support to building systems, implementing changes, and driving strategy. You still support, but in a very different way.

Fast forward to today, and I find myself in my current role: Director of Growth and Integration.

Yes, that means I am now the one supporting the very people who are “merging” into our company. It’s a full-circle moment. I remember what it felt like to sit in those shoes, being told our world was about to change without much warning. I remember the confusion, the doubt, the resistance. And I also remember the weight of responsibility to keep going.

That memory is what fuels me now.

I went into this role excited because I felt I could truly empathize with those navigating integration. I could be a sounding board, a calm presence, and sometimes even a shield. I could listen to frustrations, acknowledge grief for “the old way,” and remind people that it’s okay to feel the tension that comes with change.

Every day, I try to bring that empathy forward, reassuring folks that while change is never easy, it can also be an opportunity to grow. I tell them what I once needed to hear: it’s okay to struggle, it’s okay to doubt, and it’s okay to not love every step of the process.

Of course, this role comes with its own set of challenges. Beyond supporting people, there are still the meetings—budgets, system changes, shifting responsibilities, and strategy talks. And yes, I wrestle with questions: Am I doing the right thing? Is this truly the role for me? Am I making the difference I want to make?

But deep down, I know the answer.

I know I can make a difference. I know I will. Because I show up every day, not perfectly, but fully. And sometimes that’s exactly what people need, someone to show up, lighten the load, and remind them they don’t have to carry it all alone.

And that belief, that commitment, is what brings me here.

Why This Collective Exists

I want to build a space for helpers. A place where those who pour themselves into others can take a breath, let their guard down, and say the things they never get to say out loud.

So often in this industry, we balance on the edge of burnout because we’re “the strong one,” both at work and at home. We’re the ones who always say, I’m fine. I’ve got it covered. But beneath that, we’re carrying more than we admit.

This collective is my attempt to change that narrative.

It’s in the early stages now, but here’s what I imagine:

• A podcast where we tell our stories openly and honestly.

• A virtual space where conversations can happen without judgment.

• In-person gatherings where like-minded people can connect, share, and learn from one another.

Ultimately, this collective is about balance, helping others while also learning how to take care of ourselves. Because if we don’t, the very thing that drives us, the heart to serve, can be the thing that wears us down.

And soon, I’ll be inviting volunteers to join the conversation. To share your experiences. To help build something that not only supports you but supports the next wave of helpers coming behind us.

Because we need each other. And together, we can keep showing up—not just for those we serve, but for ourselves.

My new Assistant to the Regional Manager, Meet Olive!