Graduation is often seen as a joyful milestone—caps tossed in the air, parties, photos, and that buzzing question: “What’s next?” But for some, including me, that question brought more fear than excitement.

As a military brat for 19 years, my life was a carousel of transitions. I switched schools five times (and that’s a small number compared to other military brats) before I ever wore a cap and gown. Each move meant starting over—again and again. Different cultures, different norms, and always feeling just a little out of sync.

In third grade, we were stationed in Italy. I still spoke the way I learned back home in Guam, with a blend of Chamorro and English with words that no one understood. I wasn’t behind—I just spoke from my world. But that difference almost had me held back a grade. My mom had to step in and advocate for me.

Then we moved. Again. To California. Then to the Philippines. Then back to Texas. At every stop, I was the new kid. The outsider. The girl with a suitcase full of stories no one could relate to. At least that’s the story I carried in my spirit and mind.

By the time I hit senior year, I had to repeat classes which made me feel just that much more inferior to everyone else, but I didn’t have to repeat them because of grades, but due to missing paperwork. I couldn’t join teams, couldn’t find my footing, and definitely couldn’t picture my future. No one ever asked me: What do you dream about? What do you love? I felt so unseen and unheard but never could identify that as the problem. It is easier to disappear when no one is looking for you in a school that size. There were 650 seniors alone-then add in the other students all scrambling.

So, I stayed quiet. I let fear drive the car. I whispered dreams about being an accountant or studying medicine—paths that felt safe, not inspired. Even when I passed by the University of California, San Francisco, I couldn’t bring myself to step onto campus. Fear wouldn’t let me.

It took me years to return to school. Years to say, “Wait a minute… what do I want?” And when I finally did, I realized: I didn’t need to have it all figured out. I just needed someone to help me start.

That’s why I do what I do now. I’m a life coach who helps entry-level professionals—including young adults and teens—find clarity, direction, and confidence during one of the biggest transitions of their lives: life after graduation. I help them untangle their thoughts so they can step into their next chapter with courage, not confusion.

If you’re a parent watching your teen or young adult struggle to dream big (or dream at all), I see you. I see them. Let’s talk. It’s never too early—or too late—to begin dreaming with direction.

💬 Ready to help your teen or young adult find their way? Let’s jumpstart their journey.

👉 Book a free clarity call today!