Growing up on a farm in Northern BC, I learned early that life rewards hard work, persistence, and a willingness to embrace challenges head-on. Life on the farm taught me responsibility—caring for animals, fixing equipment, and working long days—but it also taught me gratitude: for family, for community, and for the small joys found in nature.

At age 15, I worked my first full-time job to save for a year-long exchange in Slovakia. That experience opened my eyes to the wider world, showing me how much we can learn from different cultures, and how resilience and independence grow when we step outside of our comfort zones.

After high school, I worked for several years before starting university. I wanted to put myself through school without relying on others, and I’m proud to say I was able to pay my own way to earn a mechanical engineering degree from the University of British Columbia in 2019.

A powerful influence in my life has been my mom. She’s strong, active, and endlessly inspiring—especially when she beat a stage 4 breast cancer diagnosis. Our family marked that milestone by climbing Mt. Kilimanjaro together. Reaching the summit wasn’t just about altitude; it symbolized our shared belief that, together, we can conquer any mountain life places before us.

After graduation, I was fortunate to join a clean-technology start-up in Victoria, BC, working on zero-emission refrigeration systems. It felt meaningful to contribute to innovations that had a positive impact on our planet.

But in late February 2020, my life took a sudden and drastic turn. I was admitted to the hospital with severe ulcerative colitis. Just two weeks later, I underwent emergency surgery for a permanent ostomy. I had dropped to just over 120 pounds, and I remember looking in the mirror, feeling like a shadow of who I once was. Recovery was not linear—after being discharged on April 1, I was re-admitted due to an abscess. All of this was compounded by the isolation and uncertainty of the COVID-19 pandemic.

Those months were some of the hardest of my life. I faced fear, pain, and vulnerability in ways I had never experienced before. Yet in the midst of it all, I felt overwhelming gratitude for my family, whose love anchored me when I felt like I was drifting. They reminded me that I wasn’t alone, and that life—even with new obstacles—was still full of possibility.

With their encouragement, I was determined not to let my ostomy define or limit me. That summer, I joined my family on the Sayward Canoe Portage trip on North Island. In three days, we carried our canoes and paddled across lakes and rivers, reclaiming strength one step and stroke at a time. That journey marked a turning point: proof that life after surgery could still be active, adventurous, and deeply fulfilling.

Since then, I’ve returned to many of the activities that once gave me joy—ski touring, rock climbing, surfing, running, and weightlifting. Each time I lace up my shoes or step into the mountains, I am reminded not of what I lost, but of how much I’ve gained: perspective, resilience, and a passion to help others.

In October 2023, I began managing the Victoria Ostomy Support Group. What started as my personal journey has grown into a calling—to walk alongside others facing the same life-changing surgery. I know the fear, the doubts, and the questions, but I also know the strength, the possibilities, and the hope that can follow.

Today, my greatest passion is to help others see that an ostomy is not the end of an active, meaningful life—it can be the beginning of a new chapter filled with courage, community, and purpose.