Life doesn’t always go as planned, but if you’re lucky, you can find new pathways forward that are just as fulfilling, despite the losses experienced.

In 2010, at the age of 19, I thought I knew what my life would look like for the next 15 years. I worked as a professional cross-country skier, training with the Olympic development team for the USA team in Idaho. I  traveled all over Europe, racing internationally and training for hundreds of hours a year. 

I thought I would go to the Olympics in 2014. I thought I would ski until I retired in my early to mid-thirties. . For years, I dreamed of winning a gold medal at the Olympics. I didn’t have many friends, but I had skiing, and I thought that was all I needed.. 

I truly believed that was my life’s purpose. But I couldn’t have been more wrong. 

I got injured from over-training in f 2009 and had to have surgery on both legs – once that same year, and again in  2010. I thought I would recover and go back to racing in Europe that coming winter. But later that year,  I got sick. It started with unintentional vomiting, then snowballed into me losing all the muscle I worked so hard to build. 

My mental health went down the tubes along with my weight, and I became inconsolable and emaciated. Despite the several renowned doctors, none of themknew what was wrong with me. More and more symptoms popped up over the years until I lost the ability to compete in skiing altogether.

Instead of returning to racing and training for the Olympics after my leg surgeries, I spiraled into a raging eating disorder that led to my admission in a recovery facility.  I wound up going to treatment more than a dozen times over the next 10 years. And finally, in 2020, the doctors  diagnosed me with Ehlers-Danlos syndrome,  a genetic connective tissue disorder, and tethered cord syndrome, which caused gastric paralysis through my entire digestive system. 

Unfortunately, there is no cure for either condition.d I now get my nutrition through a central line in my chest. I have a tube to drain anything I drink, in addition to draining bile, acid, and saliva since nothing will empty from my stomach into my intestines. Additionally, I have a feeding tube into my intestines for medications, as well as an ileostomy for my stool. 

My life has drastically changed from the one I had at 19. Now, I cannot eat any food  poop, and carry around a backpack with my nutrition to hydrate 16 hours a day. I don’t get to enjoy the taste of food anymore or join the dinner festivities because the temptation to eat overwhelms me.  

For so long, I fought the changes happening in my life by trying to eat food, by trying to exercise, and by refusing to lose hope that I would compete in the Olympics. I fought as hard as I could, but my health continued to decline. 

Now, I’ve accepted the changes in my life and am working toward healing. In 2021 I started doing ketamine treatments with a therapist and a doctor. I also found a wonderful Internal Family Systems therapist (IFS) who diagnosed me with dissociative identity disorder (DID) and post-traumatic stress disorder ( PTSD). It’s been rough, but I’ve managed to uncover a load of childhood trauma and have begun to heal.

Over the years, I’ve found different hobbies for when I fell well enough to do things outside of bed. I have now published my writing, painted art, and opened my own Etsy store that sells medical devices to those with chronic illnesses like me. And, best of all, I’ve become a dog mom, training my own service dogs and finding joy in their presence.  

As the saying goes, when one door closes, another one opens. I’ve found endless possibilities in my life if I allow for changing circumstances. If my journey has taught me anything, it’s that life doesn’t guarantee us anything. So instead of dreaming about the future, I now relish in the little moments–the ones when my puppy kisses my face and lies on my lap. Now, I’ve found my lifeline in training my service dogs,, and I couldn’t feel prouder.