Becoming the Woman I Never Imagined I Could Be…

There are times in life when you spend so much time working toward a dream that you forget what it will feel like when it finally comes into view.

I think I am standing in one of those moments right now...

This fall, I begin what is likely my final year of coursework at Lehigh University. If everything stays on track, I am about a year away from completing my Superintendent Letter of Eligibility and about a year and a half from earning my doctorate.

Writing those words feels surreal.

For years, these goals have lived somewhere in the distance. There was always another paper to write. Another class to take. Another discussion board. Another weekend spent reading while my family watched a movie in the other room. Another early morning before work or another late night after everyone else had gone to bed.

The finish line always felt far enough away that I never stopped to think about what it would actually feel like when it became real.

Now it is...

And if I am honest, I was not prepared for the emotions that have come with it.

I am proud.

I am grateful.

I am excited.

I am scared.

I am anxious.

Somehow all of those emotions exist at the same time.

I thought getting closer to these milestones would bring confidence.

Instead, it has brought vulnerability.

It has made me wonder if I can live up to the expectations I have placed on myself. It has made me wonder if I can live up to the expectations others have of me. It has even brought back questions I thought I had answered years ago.

Am I enough?

Will I ever feel like enough?

The more I have reflected on those questions, the more I have realized they are not really about a doctorate or another certification.

They are about worth.

I graduated high school never imagining that college would become part of my story.

Fifteen years later, in 2015, I walked into a community college classroom because a mentor encouraged me to take a few business classes.

Just a few.

Neither of us knew that one conversation would completely change the direction of my life.

One class became another.

A certificate became a degree.

A degree became another degree.

My office became an assistant principal's office.

Then a principal's office.

Now I am preparing for the final stretch of a doctoral journey I never imagined was possible.

Sometimes I still have to stop and remind myself that this is my life.

Because there are days it feels like I am living someone else's dream.

The truth is, I have never walked this path alone.

My husband has carried more than his share so I could continue chasing mine.

Not just by encouraging me, but by carrying me through the times when I questioned everything.

When I wondered if I was making the right choices.

When I doubted myself.

When I questioned whether I was enough.

He believed in me until I could find my own belief again.

That is a gift I will never be able to fully repay.

Then there are my children.

This is the part that is hardest to write.

Because there is time I will never get back.

There were nights when I was reading journal articles instead of watching another movie together.

Weekends when I was writing papers instead of being fully present.

Vacations where I packed one more textbook because a deadline was waiting for me when we got home.

As mothers, we rarely talk about the tension that exists between pursuing our own dreams and wondering what our children are sacrificing because of them.

Did I make the right choices?

Will they remember that I was sometimes distracted?

Will they remember the evenings I spent behind a laptop?

Those thoughts have stayed with me throughout this journey.

But I hope they remember something else, too.

I hope they remember watching their mom refuse to stop learning.

I hope they remember that dreams do not have an expiration date.

I hope they remember that it is never too late to become someone new.

Most of all, I hope they remember that growth often requires sacrifice, but that sacrifice has purpose when it is rooted in something meaningful.

As I look back, I realize every accomplishment in my life carries fingerprints that are not my own.

The mentors who challenged me.

The professors who expected more from me than I expected from myself.

The coworkers who encouraged me during the hardest semesters.

The friends who reminded me not to quit.

The leaders who saw something in me long before I could see it in myself.

Sometimes another person's belief becomes the bridge until we are strong enough to believe in ourselves.

I know that was true for me.

There are people who spoke confidence into my life during times when I had very little of my own. Without them, I would not be writing these words today...

As I prepare for this next year, I know there will be more research, more writing, and more moments that stretch me.

There will still be days when I question myself.

There will still be moments when I wonder if I am enough.

But maybe that question is the wrong one.

Maybe the question was never whether I was enough.

Maybe it is whether I was willing to keep becoming.

Because when I think back to the woman who walked into that community college classroom in 2015, I barely recognize her.

Not because she lacked potential.

But because she had no idea what was possible.

The degrees matter.

The credentials matter.

The opportunities they create matter.

But they are not the greatest accomplishment.

The greatest accomplishment is the woman I have become because I had the courage to keep saying yes, even when I was afraid.

If there is someone reading this who is wondering if it is too late...

If you are questioning whether you are smart enough...

If you are carrying guilt because your dreams require sacrifice...

If you are wondering whether you will ever feel like enough...

Please hear this from someone who still wrestles with those same questions.

Take the class.

Submit the application.

Say yes to the opportunity.

Borrow someone else's belief in you until your own grows strong enough to carry you.

Because the glass ceiling we are called to shatter is not always the one above us.

Sometimes it is the one we have quietly built within ourselves.

And maybe, just maybe, becoming the person you were created to be has never been about proving that you are enough.

Maybe it has been about discovering that you always were…