I’m Nobody Important

I used to think honesty meant not telling lies. Now I know it starts with telling the truth to yourself. I’ve spent years hiding pain behind movement and adrenaline, but healing began when I stopped pretending. Honesty cracked me open, and that’s when a real connection starts.

 My family is both the reason I survived and the reason I keep going. Through the hardest moments — injury, heartbreak, rock bottom — they were the ones who stayed. I didn’t always know how to show up for them, but they never gave up on me. Now, everything I do begins and ends with love for them. 

Courage isn’t bombing hills at 50mph — it’s making a phone call when you’re afraid of what someone might say. It’s showing your kids who you really are. It’s crying in public. Courage, for me, means choosing vulnerability over armor — again and again. 

 I used to think freedom meant doing whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted. Now I understand that real freedom is owning your story — and not letting shame write it for you. Freedom means I can move through the world with honesty, without fear of who I am or where I’ve been. 

Community saved my life more than once. From skaters to family, the people who have showed up for me — especially when I didn’t ask — are why I’m still here. Now I do what I can to return the favor. No one heals alone. 

 Love has carried me when my own legs couldn’t. I didn’t always feel like I deserved it, but people loved me anyway. That taught me how to love myself — slowly, painfully, fully. Love isn’t just a feeling. It’s an action. A decision. A choice I make every day.