Overachiever, Athlete, Survivor: The Life of a Hustler

Being highly competitive and an overachiever? That’s an athlete for you. We were trained to never do anything half-assed. College coaches made sure our grades were on point, that we sat in the front row, that we participated in class. Study tables multiple times a week? Check. Progress reports to coaches? Absolutely. Sheesh, what a time. I don’t miss it—but it definitely instilled a work ethic that has stuck with me into adulthood.

Fast forward to now: I juggle multiple roles (shout out to this economy). I’m ending my time as Interim Executive Director while continuing to work as Clinical Program Director, Clinical Supervisor/Consultant at two different organizations, Clinical Program Director/Clinician, Adjunct Professor, and Founder/Clinician of 5280 Sports Counseling.

I spent years in a toxic job I should’ve left sooner, saying, “It’ll get better,” until it didn’t. Now, I’m refusing bankruptcy and climbing my way out of a mountain of credit card debt. And let me tell you—achieving anything academically or professionally before being diagnosed with ADHD at 33? I don’t even know how I did it.

Shoutout to being biracial, Latina and Black. Culturally, therapy and medicine weren’t part of the picture. My grandmother’s prayers were my lifeline—honestly, I don’t know how I ended up where I am today. From section eight housing and food stamps to couch hopping in my late teens and early twenties, I carried one certainty: I was never going to be broke like my family growing up.

And yet…here I am. Broke, living paycheck to paycheck, despite making great money. Not because I’m financially irresponsible—just because life threw some hard punches, and I did what I thought was best at the time. But here’s the thing: I’m climbing out. Working 5–6 jobs, balancing full-time, contract, and consulting roles. Cortisol levels? Through the roof. ADHD meds? Screaming at me that they don’t work like this. Am I delusional? Maybe. Is this punishment for ever saying I’d never be in the spot I saw my family in growing up? Maybe.

How do I do it? Honestly, I can’t exactly tell you. I just do it. I have this weird ability to figure the fuck out, even when everything feels impossible. I also make time to sleep whenever possible with my animals, because rest is a radical act for someone doing all the things. And I move my body as much as I can—boxing classes (though not as often as I’d like), slowpitch softball, volleyball, flag football, basketball, and my newest obsession: pickleball! Hehe.

Moving isn’t just a hobby—it’s my reset. It’s how I carve out space for myself in a life that can feel endlessly demanding. I have many roles, a mountain of stress, and a thousand things to manage—but this is how I stay sane, how I stay human, and how I keep showing up.

Here’s what I know: my work ethic, my competitive drive, my overachieving tendencies make me do things that seem impossible to others. A traumatic childhood didn’t break me—it built a resilient, tenacious, unstoppable individual. And while I’m exhausted, stressed, and financially overextended, I am also relentless.

Being an overachiever isn’t just about medals or grades—it’s about survival, persistence, and showing up even when life seems impossible. And I wouldn’t trade that grit for anything.