So it’s my very first time in Europe and to no surprise, things went wrong prior to me leaving — like my friend getting the flu right before the flight. Which is totally my luck. That meant I was flying to Amsterdam by myself.

I was fine with this at first because I enjoy my alone time, and I felt like a big-time adult.

But when I had to take a taxi to the hotel all by myself, I was definitely wishing I had a friend. Or that I was a man. But I made it there safe and that’s what matters!

My travel companion arrived a day after I did so we really only had one full day in Amsterdam. It was very hard to figure out the Dutch signs everywhere and it rained but we made the most of it. Luckily, the boat for the canal tour was covered so we were still able to see a lot of the city without getting soaked. Apparently, houses on the water are a thing and they’re absolutely adorable.

Once that was finished, we walked around the Red Light District which was very interesting. I’ve heard some things about it, like how there are prostitutes in the windows and that you can smoke pot just about anywhere, but no one warned me about the super aggressive sex shops and the multitude of opportunities to watch live sex.

Yes, you heard that right. Literal live sex shows.

I could not contain myself walking around this place; I just laughed the entire time. Maybe I’m not mature enough for it but I couldn’t believe I was seeing these things! And the way the women in the windows would try to entice you to come in made me laugh even more and I had to scurry away. I definitely looked like a foreigner.

That’s pretty much all we did since my friend wasn’t feeling too well, so the trip is off to a rocky start but I have high hopes for the rest of it!

Next stop — Geneva, Switzerland!

Do you remember the first day you were dropped off at college? What it felt like? The huge campus you thought would take years to get familiar with? The culture shock of a new town, new place to live, new people?

The desolate, extremely small, old, 12×14 box they call a dorm you were supposed to live in for a year? The feeling of the unknown and the uncertainty that lay ahead? All of these things can be very overwhelming at first and can distract from the true purpose of college … which in my opinion is to balance the whole “college experience” and at the end of the day master your skills in some field of studies you truly enjoy.

For me, growing up I always had a sense of direction, always aspired to do great things, but I really never grasped or questioned how that would look long-term.

I will never forget the day I was dropped off at college at James Madison University. For me, I believe it was a very different departure than most. My mom promised me that she wouldn’t cry or make a scene … and she actually followed through with that promise (It probably helped that I was attending the same university as her and how close I still was to home.)

However, something I will never forget for the rest of my life happened at our final goodbye. I was left with words from my Mom saying, “Steve, if there is one piece of advice I could give you – please try to figure out what you are truly passionate about early, and the money and success will surely follow, I love you.”

Most kids leave home for college and want nothing to do with their parents. But our parents are our greatest mentors. My mom’s comment was powerful and sticks with me to this day. And you may wonder why she left me with these words. The truth is most people who go to college have no idea what they want to do.

My mother told me when she was in my exact same position she wanted to have a “good” life and pursued a BBA in Business Management. Four years go by and she gets her degree. Shortly following, my mom was breezing through a fairly high paying job and worked for a long time having a very successful career.

After about 20 years she hit a major wall in her career and life.

She was truly unhappy with the path she had gone down and felt she was definitely missing something. This was the definition of a mid-life crisis in my opinion at the age of 44 my mom decided to quit her job, and pursue her true passion – teaching.

My mom did the unthinkable, in her mind (and mine), and went back to obtain her Master’s Degree in Education at George Mason University. This was done at the age of 52, after 8 years of substitute teaching. Once she obtained her Masters of Education, she then was able to get a full time 1st grade job teaching special education students.

It took my mom about 2 years to obtain their master’s while substitute teaching full time on the side and attending classes at night. Her job hours currently are about two times as long as her other job with far less than half the pay. Who would want to take this sort of job? It takes a very passionate, caring, and loving person, and to me, my mom is all of that and more.

A lot of kids in, or planning on attending college want to pursue a high-paying career, eventually start a family, and live happily ever after right? That seems like a pretty solid life plan to me.

But what about making a difference in this world – because after all that is the ultimate test of legacy and impact.

You can’t take with you the money, cars, clothes, or any of the materialistic items – but you can leave behind something that you are proud of and something that makes this world a better place.

This is a story about change, influence, and everyone who is unsure of their future. My mother changed her career at the age of 44. For all of the people out there thinking they want to be successful and wealthy remember this, “The greatness of a man is not in how much wealth he acquires, but in his integrity and his ability to affect those around him positively.”

This can be told time and time again and people will understand, however, people truly need concrete stories and real life examples in order for it really to have an impact on their own lives. This in turn will hopefully set off a chain reaction of them trying to influence other lives and will only make this earth a better place.

Tomorrow I challenge everyone reading this to reflect on where they have been, where they are currently, and where they plan on going – it is never ever too late, my mom is a prime example.

Reflect on the past, live in the present, and plan for the future. Reflect on all the good and bad things that have happened to you, live in the here and now – because at the end of the day that is all you can control, and plan for a future that you would be truly happy living and everything will fall into place.

Lastly, for everyone out there who is afraid or unsure about their future…that is perfectly okay. Uncertainty is one of the strongest motivators out there and you should use it as encouragement and fuel for chasing your dreams rather than a deterrent.

This story about my mom is a reminder that the earlier you find your passion the better, however, it is never too late. I leave you with one of my favorite quotes, “Don’t go where the path may lead, go where there is no path and leave a trail.”

-Ralph Waldo Emerson

I could carry a tune at 5-years-old, whether I was singing “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star” or “Mary Had A Little Lamb.”

Every single Christmas growing up, I would unwrap CD’s, new karaoke machines, microphones, guitars, or anything music related. In every home video on Christmas, I’m off to the side singing or playing with my new toys.

Don’t get me wrong; my parents didn’t genetically program me to love music. They never forced music onto me. In fact, I made an attempt at almost every sport growing up. You name it; I quit it. It just wasn’t my thing.

It wasn’t until the end of 8th grade when I had my first solo in front of the entire school did I realize the high I got from performing. This was a time when no one knew I could sing (I can’t believe this was ever a time), so it was almost shocking when I poured my heart out to my whole middle school. Throughout middle school, I had joined theatre groups, girls choir, went to band camp, and really started pursuing music.

When I first started high school, I decided that I wanted to start playing guitar. I had been making videos of myself singing to instrumental tracks I found on YouTube, but I wanted to do more than that.

As much as I loved singing karaoke, I wanted to actually produce the music that went along with my singing.

I got my first guitar at age 14, and taught myself every song on Taylor Swift’s first album. I remember staying up late, until I had perfected “Tim McGraw” on my brother’s electric guitar, using YouTube tutorials to teach myself the notes. I was so proud when I could play a whole song through on my own. As the year went on, I decided I wanted to take guitar lessons so I could have my own teacher instead of learning from a computer screen.

I started my weekly lessons at Reston Music, and joined the “Rock Band” that met every Friday night at the store. We would practice on Friday nights, and put on concerts for all the parents each month. This was one of my favorite things because not only did I get to perform on my own as well as with the Rock Band, but my brother was a part of it so we got to make music together.

My first performance happened at age 14, when I was attending a local band’s show at Jammin Java. They were also a part of the rock band from Reston Music, and invited me on stage to sing a song of my own when they finished their set. I played “I’m Only Me When I’m With You” by Taylor Swift, and I can still remember how fast my heart was racing.

That following week, I uploaded my first YouTube video. I was very hesitant to put myself out there, because I knew how critical people could be. I vividly remember being at the mall with my friends and getting a phone call from my Mom telling me that I had received my first YouTube comment.

The comment said, “you rock.” Literally, that’s all it said.

I was so unbelievably happy that someone appreciated my video, and now almost eight years later, I have over 100 YouTube videos posted to my account.

But I’m not here to tell you about my magical journey with music, because I promise you, it hasn’t always been rainbows and butterflies. I’ve done enough articles, blog posts and interviews about my accomplishments, and I think it’s extremely important to talk about my failures as well.

The music industry is brutal. It’s like trying out for a sports team alongside of hundreds of people, and only five people make the team. You have to be talented. You have to be beautiful. You have to have charisma. You have to have that spark. You have to be what they are looking for.

I’ve had my fair share of letdowns. In January of 2014, I auditioned for the TV show “The Voice.” I had been approached by a talent scout to audition privately for the producers. He had found my videos on YouTube and as you could imagine, I was so unbelievably excited that they asked ME to come tryout.

I drove all the way to New York in the snow with my parents that Saturday, only to be rejected after my first song. But the heartbreaking part wasn’t the rejection. The heartbreaking part was telling all my excited friends and family that I didn’t make it.

The people who believe in me most.

With every email, every offer, every compliment, and every person that contacts me professionally, I get a glimpse of hope. Sometimes more hope than I should have. Some days I wonder why I reach so far. Why I want impossible things. I’m so scared of working so hard to never accomplish all that I want to.

But with every letdown comes a moment that makes me believe again. Like the time I got to fly down to Austin, Texas and perform at the South by Southwest music festival. Or the time I performed on the VIP stage at Blake Shelton. Or the time I hit 10,000 subscribers on YouTube. Or the time I was published in my first magazine. And don’t let me forget the time I got to sing on national radio when I was interning for the Bobby Bones Show. Those are the moments that make it all worth it.

We watched a TED talk in class the other day. The first question asked was, “what would you attempt to do if you could not fail?” The talk was all about how the fear of failure restrains us. Not failure; the fear that we will fail. And then it hit me. That’s my greatest obstacle. Not my personal failures, but the fear that I will not succeed with my music. It holds me back more than anything else.

So what would I attempt to do if I knew I could not fail?

Well, a lot of things. But it’s the hardest and darkest times that make the sunny days so beautiful. We would not appreciate our accomplishments and the beauty in our lives if we did not experience the ugly first. We would take it for granted. My failures have taught me to work harder. They have made me stronger. They have taught me that nothing worth having comes easy.

On May 1st, I will be releasing my new single called “When I’m With You.” Following that, I will be recording and releasing a 6-song EP. On the EP will be the single, four songs and a bonus track. All songs will be completely original, some co-written with good friends of mine. I am so proud of this album already and I can’t wait to share it with the world.

You can accomplish anything you desire. You just have to want it bad enough. I don’t know what my future holds, but I will always be excited for what is to come.

Special thanks to Wil Lawson, Nick Aluzzi, Miranda Andersson, Jennifer Hennelly, and my family, and the many others that helped me through it all even when I didn’t think I could make it.

In life, we all go through things we would deem as unfair. We always ask why do good people have bad things happen to them. Why does that person always have great things happen to them even though they are awful? Things happen in life—it is inevitable based on the ebb and flow of life itself. However, it’s all based on how you respond to these events.

Your outlook on life and attitude determine how life will treat you.

If you are always upbeat and excited to be breathing the law of attraction will grace you. If you are negative and think the world is out to get you, most likely it will be a struggle on a daily basis. Basically, what you put out in the world will come back to you in some form. So that’s been my motto for about 2 months.

As I adopted this model things became easier for me. Talking to people seemed to have more meaning and people were more open to have conversations. Vulnerability allows for people to trust and have a more genuine conversation. However, coming to this path was not easy by any means and before I can go through my breakthrough that occurred to me two months I will have to explain what happened to me in 2014.

In 2014, everything started out perfectly. I had the best friends around me, I had a great best friend and I had an amazing girlfriend. I thought my life was going to be smooth sailing and that life had finally graced me with some amazing promises in store. Sadly enough, all of this came crashing down that summer.

My ex girlfriend dumped me, my best friend at the time and roommate started dating my ex girlfriend and I went through a gruesome depression. I completely lost my faith in God and half of my friends disappeared from my life. I felt betrayed. Heck, my parents didn’t even want me to go back to school because I was so depressed. I was an energy drainer and brought negative vibes around to everyone in my vicinity. I even considered suicide on some occasions because I could not handle the agonizing waves of depression.

After a few bouts of crying, I stayed the course and took my life into my own hands.

Up to this point I have read a book every week, graduated with two majors and started a company through all of the chaos. Now I say all this to tell you that in 2015 I’m still here and jacked about life every day!! Because I know that if my positive energy isn’t there I may not be able to save a life. I may not be able to motivate that person to the next step because I know what it’s like to be in hell. Now you may be asking what happened between then and now that completely changed my outlook on life? It all really started two months ago.

“Every setback has a setup for an amazing comeback.” Willie Jollie

Two months ago, I was going through a rollercoaster of emotions. I was in multiple talks with the NBA, MELT, CSE, IMG, Atlanta Dream and the Kennesaw State Athletic Department with still no offers, some of my friends felt distant and I didn’t really know what I wanted to do with my life after graduating college. After spring break I went through some personal downfalls and honestly I was lost. So that next weekend I got a chance to go on a hiking trip with my hiking class on the Chattooga Trail. Honestly, this was a blessing in disguise because I needed to get away from the world and have a chance to be reflective.

During the night of the hike, I left my tent because I was freezing and couldn’t sleep—I decided to take a walk.

I walked to an overhanging cliff overlooking the water and just started thinking. I decided on that cliff that it was time to stop messing around and get serious about life. So I made a promise to myself. It was time to sacrifice some things so that I could live a better life. In addition, I added another promise to myself. I was going to find a way to retire my parents before I turn 27 and to create a legacy for myself and the Ingram family name. That has now become my WHY. Now is that possible you ask? I didn’t know but I was up for finding out.

I called Bryan Wish the following week about an idea I was working with hosting gaming tournaments around colleges. I had 18 pages of research and no idea what to do with it. He got me in contact with Jim Flannery with Four Athens. I met with Jim two days later to talk about this idea. He said “Great idea Morgan, so what have you done so far?” I said “nothing yet, I just have the research”. He said “go out there now and do it”. So he gave me a couple of contacts and I was off running.

Couple of days went by and I saw that this thing could go far. I called Bryan Wish and I was like “it’s time to go 100% on this, I don’t care anymore we are going to make this happen.” I made the company official and called it Collegiate Gaming LAN. The concept behind the company is creating gaming tournaments around college campuses and recreating the video game experience.

I stopped going downtown, worked out every morning, spent about 8-10 hours a day in SLC and cut off half my friends.

I knew in order to get where I needed to go I needed to refocus everything and some people just did not fit the path I was putting myself on. I found Dylan Howell who shared my passion and we were off running with the idea and through our hard work we have officially secured the Classic Center for our first LAN multiplayer gaming tournament June 20th and have done multiple tournaments at Wonderbar. We are super excited about our future.

“I have a dream that’s worth more than my sleep” Eric Thomas

People always ask me though how did you survive all those terrible things and come out so positive? Why do you go so hard every day? What made you push through when nothing was going your way?

I told them it was because the fire and passion that burned inside of me to succeed and graduate BURNED way more then the fire of misery around me.

It didn’t matter what external factors the world threw at me. With the fire inside of me and through God’s grace, I knew I was going to graduate and not have these outside influences affecting me. I knew I was going to be able to take my mental state to the next level. I knew that at the end of the day I would come out stronger. I knew that someday I would become an inspiration for my peers and my family to accomplish their dreams no matter what.

DO NOT LET ANYONE TELL YOU THAT YOU CANNOT DO IT. You can do it because we can do anything, it is all about adopting the right mentality and focus, it’s that simple. Let your fire inside of you take you to the next level to succeed.

There is no time for laziness, there is no time for slouching and no time for excuses. The time is now to grab the reigns of success and gallop into the field of triumph. All of this is possible for each and every one of you if you so chose to take this journey of accolades.

If I can see my friends who have been with me since day 1 succeed, keep growing my faith in God, retire my parents and make my dream a reality then that will make me the happiest person in the world. And I will go through every obstacle and overcome every trial to make this happen. Because the impossible is possible. Take out the I ‘may’ and just say I am going to make the impossible possible.

Anyone who has betrayed me, disrespected me, every company that didn’t hire me, peers and professors that thought I wasn’t smart enough, does not think this idea will work or thinks I am crazy I have one word for you all. Thanks. Seriously, thanks.

Without all of the no’s in my life I wouldn’t be where I am, I wouldn’t have been pushed if my life was made easy for me.

Everyday you should pray for challenges because without them there will be no growth. Negative energy if used correctly can be a great source of motivation and I had a ton of it. But instead of being bitter and letting it poison me from within. I decided to use all of the negative energy from the past and turn all of it positive to help me push through and accomplish my goals.

“Goodness is the only investment that never fails” Henry David Thoreau

The past is the past and cannot be recovered. However, today is a new day and you can seize that day. No matter what you have been through and what you have done you can always set a new path for yourself. Yes it will be hard. Yes people will leave your life. And yes you will want to quit. However, if you can look yourself in the mirror and find out how and why things will get better for you.

I promise you that you will become a lot happier with yourself which at the end of the day that is what your loved ones want to see from you. That’s what I did and I encourage whoever is reading this to try it. I found a new group of friends in Austin Mueller, Myles Berrio and D.J. Snyder to associate with that wanted me to be successful, I cut out certain activities that were bringing me down and I started to dive back into my faith.

Once you find that geyser of passion everything changes you are ready to take on the world and you feel like nothing on earth can stop you. People will think you have become demon possessed because of the persistence and passion that you will display on a daily basis. You will keep coming back for more and more and more! This same exact process happened to me.

After everything, it was time to believe in myself and rise up as a true lion would.

“Nothing can take the place of persistence. Talent will not; nothing is more common than unsuccessful men with talent. Genius will not; unrewarded genius is almost a proverb. Education will not; the world is full of educated people who do not or have not made any money. Persistence and determination alone are all-powerful.” Calvin Coolidge

What is perspective? Is it simply the way we choose to look at something or can it be something more? The definition I enjoy most is the “true understanding of the relative importance of things, a sense of proportion.” An understanding of important things in life. Something many of us often lack. Given time to reflect on my own life, I slowly began to appreciate the art of perspective and the lessons it has taught me.

As a nursing student, I am constantly faced with situations that allow me to reflect on my own life. Day in and day out, sick people come in looking for the simple act of care, and sometimes certain cases really hit a nerve within me. How can I complain about my “unfulfilling dinner” when I just helped a man who hasn’t eaten in days? How can I blame my roommate for using all the hot water when my last patient hasn’t been able to shower for a week besides the occasional bed bath? These little realizations we make ultimately allow us to understand what really matters.

My perspective on life was truly transformed when I went to Honduras this past month on a medical mission trip with BMDMI missions.

I went into this experience completely blind, going to a new city with a group of people I had never met in my life.

It wasn’t until the plane ride over that I started to question what I was doing. The man sitting across from me asked what hospital I would be working at and what city I was traveling to. My answer? “I honestly have no idea where I’m going.” Maybe this spontaneous trip was not the best idea.

From one perspective, you could say I was crazy for going to a third world country with strangers. But from the other, I was a nursing student choosing to extend my skills to those in need. Sounds better, right? I met hundreds of kind people in Honduras that were beyond grateful for our help, but I want to tell you about the one person who really made an impact on us.

Mary Luz is a 43-year-old woman with the brightest smile and most contagious spirit.

Why was she at the hospital? Mary Luz was born with two clubbed feet, a genetic deformity that causes the feet to shape into what essentially looks like a club. Her left leg was amputated below the knee the previous year by another mission team. Because of the severity of her condition, her right foot was in such bad shape that amputation was the only option.

There she sat on the exam table, surrounded by about ten people who were all poking and prodding at her foot and saying a bunch of medical terms that would eventually be translated to her. I was one of those ten people, guilty of being amazed by her condition.

It wasn’t until later that night that I realized how selfish I was for being excited to see such an operation as a nursing student. I hadn’t even considered her feelings and her fears because all I saw when I looked at Mary Luz was her courage.

She was the most courageous person I had ever seen walk into a hospital.

Yes, we hear about incredible cases where miracles happen and death is overcome, but Mary Luz is the definition of a survivor. She chose to put her life in the hands of strangers, trusting in the Lord that we would take care of her in the best way that we could. I needed someone like Mary to come into my life so that I could really appreciate what I was doing as a nurse.

Mary waited countless hours in pre-op surely experiencing the deepest of fears, but she never let it show. I checked on Mary about every 30 minutes, attempting to make my Spanglish sound somewhat decent and upbeat. Even though she may not have understood what I was saying, she knew she was in the right place. She constantly smiled and whispered, “thank you” every chance she could.

I couldn’t help but ask myself why she was thanking me.

Yes, we were performing a surgery for her, but it was going to cost her a leg. I began contemplating how upset I might be if I had to lose not one, but both legs in a matter of two years. I would probably mope around complaining, trying to soak up every ounce of pity I could find. Perspective. Mary did not consider this as a loss, but a blessing.

This is the point where it clicked in my head. We may be fearful, wonder why God chose this plan for us, or think it is the end of the world, but to Mary it was just the beginning of a new life. A new life filled with new adventures. I was fortunate to meet a woman like Mary Luz, because it only takes one person like her to turn your perspective around.

I will never be able to express the thankfulness I have for you, Mary. I never knew that meeting one person can truly change a life. God blessed us with you for a reason. I hope you know the impact your warm heart has made not only on me, but on every person around you. May your future be filled with all the adventures you so desire and deserve. We love you Mary Luz.

Flashback to September 2013, my first semester at UGA. It was Saturday and we were playing South Carolina. It was my first home football game. My first football game really.

The energy was unlike anything I could have ever imagined. Being overwhelmed was an understatement. This was the first time in my entire life that I saw thousands of people come together for one reason: to cheer on the Dawgs.

As amazing as the game and the victory was, that was not the only thing on my mind. When we weren’t running plays or defending our end zone my focus were on the people behind the white line.

Somehow, someway, they had made there way between the hallowed hedges and on to the field.

All I could think was “How do I get there?”

During that game I promised myself I would make it back on that field again before graduation.

Luck seemed to be in my favor that year. With nothing to do one Thursday afternoon in November I found my way to the AdPR Convention and Career fair. I sat in on a few seminars and flipped through the program until one thing caught my eye: UGA Athletic Association.

After the last seminar I headed to the assigned table where the rep was supposed to be standing. Much to my dismay I found the table empty. I contemplated leaving, because I was very under-dressed and one of the youngest in the room. All I can say is, thank goodness my mom told me to stay.

I was first in line and I was fortunate enough to meet Mike Mobley. One of the Associate Sports Communications Directors at the University of Georgia. After a brief conversation, he told me to come and find him after one of the basketball games that week.

I met up with him later that week and he gave me a press pass to go behind the scenes of Stegeman Coliseum. I was in awe of everything. I must have done something or shown him how determined I was to be a part of that industry because he asked if I would like to volunteer. From that week on I was at almost every single home Women’s basketball game for the 2013-2014 season.

At the games I filled in for the full-time student assistants who worked in the Sports Communication office. I kept back up stats and minutes and helped with the take down after the games. All in all it was a four hour endeavor but I loved every minute of it.

Once basketball season ended I helped out with a couple more events. It was in April when I achieved that goal I set for myself months before. Mike asked me to shadow him at G-Day 2014. I made it on the field again before I graduated. I made it on the field again before the end of my freshman year. I was ecstatic.

From that moment on I knew that I wanted to be part of the excitement of college sports for the rest of my life. I was hooked.

A couple weeks later, I met Mike for lunch and he asked about setting an interview up with his boss. I could barely get my schedule out fast enough.  My last day in Athens in May 2014 I interviewed with Claude Felton, Senior Associate Athletic Director for the University of Georgia. After twenty minutes or so he said, “Send me your fall schedule and I’ll see you when you get back for football season.”

I couldn’t believe what I heard. I was going to work for the UGA Athletic Association. And I couldn’t have been happier.

Once I returned to Athens in the Fall I was thrown into it all. Working in the office everyday, women’s soccer during the week and sometimes on the weekends, eight-hour football Saturdays, and basketball pre-season toward the end. It was a whirlwind. One I wouldn’t trade for anything.

Not to mention, I was on the field for every home game during the 2014 season. I was finally one of those people on the sidelines I had watched from the student section the year before. I had achieved my goal and so much more.

As I finish up my first full school year working for the Sports Communication Department, I am now unable to comprehend my life without it.

The friends I’ve made, the games, and the experiences I’ve had. All of the long days, late nights, and early mornings have been worth it. I truly believe I have started myself on a path that will guide me for the rest of my life.

College is the time for you to try new things and reach for your dreams. I am a living, breathing example of that. A split thought during a football game led me to so much more than I could have ever imagined. So shoot for the impossible, you never know what luck will be tossed your way.

As I rounded the rocky, snowy, slippery corner of the trail, I saw to my left a vast glacier—comparable to a felled New York City skyscraper—boasting the most beautiful shade of blue beneath frosted whiteness. I was in awe.

30 feet ahead, I saw the sign. “Congratulations, you are now at Uhuru Peak- Africa’s highest point on the world’s highest free standing mountain.” I literally dropped to my knees, bawling. I had summited Mt. Kilimanjaro. And to think that just 4 hours earlier I convinced myself to quit…

Have you ever stunned yourself beyond explanation by achieving something you thought would be impossible for you to do? Well—I definitely did.

My freshman year at UGA, I had the awesome opportunity to study abroad in Tanzania for a Maymester and then finish the trip by climbing Mt. Kilimanjaro- which I thought was going to be a walk in the park… until I made it to Day Five of my climb.

To fully understand the trek, I’ve got to break it down for you. It’s a 6-day climb through the “Marangu” route, AKA the “Coca-Cola Route” (it’s known to be the easiest), and every day brings a different climate. Yes, that’s right. Literally, you pass through a different climate each day because of the increase in altitude. So I’ll give you the short run-down of the days leading up to the worst/best day of my life.

Day 1

Starting at 1,970 meters above sea level (6,463 feet) – walking through the rainforest to Mandara Hut- estimated to be a three hour hike – Colobus monkeys hanging out, huge trees and little streams, literally a jungle

Day 2

Starts at 2,700 meters above sea level (8,858 feet) – getting into the Moorland climate zone (between a rainforest and a desert with lots of small shrubs and plants but no trees) – heading to Horombo Hut- estimated five hours- walked through straight clouds for over an hour, only able to see about 50 feet ahead the whole time because of the dense clouds

Day 3

Acclimatization day – staying at Horombo Hut but going on a short hike a little higher to get used to being at such a high altitude. Here, we get a view of what awaits us across the desert- the peak of Kilimanjaro. Now at 3,720 meters above sea level (12,205 feet).

Here, we are ABOVE THE CLOUDS. How crazy is that?

Day 4

Beginning the hike to the base of the summit- to Kibo hut. Estimated five hour hike to get to the base camp at 4,703 meters above sea level (15,430 feet).

This walk was so surreal. It was straight through alpine desert and it felt like it took forever because we could see our endpoint basically the entire time.

At Kibo, the wind is so strong that when you’re trying to sleep in the broad daylight (you have to go to sleep when you get to base camp- in the afternoon- because you start hiking to the summit at 12 a.m.), it sounds like movie wind sound effects whistling and whirling beyond the thin glass separating you from the outside. The building was even making creaking noises!

Day 5

And now for infamous day 5. (Warning: I’m going to go into a lot of detail on this one). Our wake-up call came at 11 p.m. on day 4, and I was pumped. I was so ready to take on this night climb that it wasn’t even funny. I felt great, my spirits were high, and I was so excited to get to the top!

We set out on the midnight hike, turning off our headlamps because of the beaming light cast from the full moon and the most brilliant stars we’d ever seen.

It was about five hours to the first peak, Gillman’s, at about 5,685 meters above sea level (18,652 feet). About an hour in, I started feeling really weird. It’s recommended that you take prescription altitude sickness medicine, which I dumbly didn’t consult my doctor about before embarking on my journey because I thought I would be fine…

And I felt great the entire time up until then, so I thought it would pass. I popped a few Ibuprofen and kept pushing. This part of the mostly straight-up trail was all through volcanic ash, which is so slippery that the path had to zig-zag to make it easier to navigate.

This resulted in dragging a trail that could be leaps and bounds shorter into a long, winding, dizzying path where one little slip could cost you half an hour of making up lost trail.

The Ibuprofen I had so much faith in seemed to fail me, and around 2 a.m., I started puking. But still, I walked on. Puke, breathe, trudge. Puke, breathe, trudge. I threw up so many times that I lost count.

When I finally felt a little too faint to stand up straight, I lost my footing and face-planted into the rocky volcanic dust, back-sliding about 5 feet and briefly passing out.

When I came-to, I told my guide, Mickey, that I was done.

I wanted to go back to Kibo. I was dizzy, confused, and really feeling terrible. And they told us a million times that if we got sick we needed to turn around. So, I quit.

Mickey grabbed me off the ground by my jacket and stood me upright, taking my backpack as his own burden to bear, and got in my face. He told me I was GOING to the top. I didn’t have a choice. And I didn’t have a voice at that moment to object his demand, so when he spun me and pushed me up the path, I didn’t protest. I just blacked out.

Seriously, I do not remember the next few hours of the hike. I remember snippets of praying that God would send me all my guardian angels to carry me up the mountain because I didn’t have any more strength. Apparently I was singing a line from an old hymn I heard in my childhood church that went, “Onward, Christian soldiers, marching into war,” or something like that.

At one point I fell over some boulders and snapped one of my hiking poles in half.

That’s when I realized we were coming to a place where we were actually partly walking, partly climbing the terrain littered with boulders and small patches of snow. And I did a lot of that on all fours. Looking back I probably looked like a crazy nut ball rolling around singing hymns and looking like a walking zombie. But nonetheless, I kept climbing, and it was getting lighter as we went higher. We were close to the top.

I made a deal with myself. I would make it to Gilman’s Peak because that’s only an hour and a half from the main peak, Uhuru. So it’s basically the top, right? I would also still get a certificate congratulating me for summiting Kilimanjaro if I made it there. I could do this.

I went back and took this picture on the way down so I could remember the sign that kept me going

I made it to Gilman’s just as the sun was poking up out of the clouds below us.

I fulfilled my goal, and it was going to be so easy to turn around and go back to Kibo where I could sleep off the hell I just went through for the last few hours.

Looking around and realizing how far I had come and knowing that I was so close to quitting just hours before, I couldn’t let myself stop. Not now. Not when I was only an hour and a half from summiting the tallest peak in Africa! So I mustered the little strength that I had left and kept going.

I looked at my feet for most of the trek that changed from volcanic ash and boulders to ice and snow and glaciers. When I looked up, I saw people dusted with ice.

My braids were white with frost, and I passed a guy with frozen eyelashes.

How was it this cold in Africa? I was on the edge of the crater (Kili is a volcano), and if I leaned out far enough to the right, the cliff dropped off onto jagged rocks poking up through fluffy beds of snow.

The Glacier

As I rounded the corner of the trail at 7 a.m. and saw that big, green sign marking the end of my journey, I lost it.

Cue the waterworks and dramatic movie-scene drop-to-your-knees-and-cry scenario.

Mickey walked over to make sure I wasn’t puking again, and I looked up at him and thanked him in the best words I could muster through my emotional breaths in the zero-oxygen atmosphere that we were in. (I must mention that we could only stay at Uhuru for 10 minutes because the oxygen level at 19,222 feet- 3.6 miles- above sea level is so low that weird things would happen to you if you stayed longer).

If it weren’t for Mickey, I wouldn’t have made it to the top. He believed in me when I didn’t believe in myself. And looking out at the sun rising over the cloud level, in Africa, on top of this gigantic snow-topped volcano after a dawn of walking to hell and back… that was the most amazing high I could have ever asked for.

Of course, we had to keep walking that day, all the way back down to Horombo for the night, and then day 6 from Horombo down to the gate of the park, ending the trip.

I was just floating on the fact that I actually made it. I summited Mt. Kilimanjaro!

And it was the hardest day of my life, that stupidly wonderful day 5. I battled my inner voice telling me I could quit and feel so much better. I could be comfortable if I just turned around- if I allowed myself to settle for the easy way out. My heart breaks every time I think about what would have happened if Mickey let me quit. I would have missed out on the most amazing spiritual journey I’ve ever had!

I find it funny and honestly quite amazing that I’m at another one of those crossroads in my life.

I can choose the easy route and take my first job offer fresh out of college that might be a cool opportunity but not quite right for me, or I can push myself a few grueling, extra miles and hold out for a job that floors me, one that I’m excited to wake up for every single day—but would take a lot of hard work and patience to get.

I’m still not quite sure what exactly that job is, but I know God’s leading me to it if I just trust Him and have patience, because He believes in me much more than I believe in myself, and that’s hard. But I guess Kili taught me that sometimes the hardest roads have the most beautiful endings. It’s cliché, yeah, I know, but I lived it!

If you just keep trudging up that steep, slippery hill, maybe you’ll get lucky enough to have someone believe in you more than you believe in yourself and push you to the peak of the mountain that you never thought you had the strength to climb on your own. Believe in yourself, even when you think you can’t do it.

Trust someone when they tell you that you can do something. You’re going to fall, you’re going to throw up, and you’re probably going to cry. But push through it. The rewards are beyond measure. Happy climbing y’all.

I grew up in an age of Disney princesses and feminism; an age where Snow White waited for her prince while the Cheetah Girls decided they needed to rescue themselves.  I fantasized about being saved, yet I also wanted to be strong enough to save myself. 

It was not until I was diagnosed with depression and bulimia that I needed saving.  I searched for validation, acceptance, and support in friendships and relationships. More than anything, I craved love and reassurance that I deserved love.

I spent this last year confronting my need for validation and I began a journey of self-acceptance.

I understand now that in order to be truly happy, I must accept myself rather than wait for others to accept me. With this realization came the understanding that I am the only person who controls my recovery. Although a support system is helpful, I ultimately am the one saving myself.

Last year, I thought I was ready for a relationship.  I thought I needed another person to remind me that I was beautiful, intelligent, and that my past mistakes did not define me.  This unfortunately, founded my relationship on unhealthy expectations. No matter how much my boyfriend reminded me he loved me, I felt unlovable.  After months of fighting, we broke up. That was when I realized that the love I craved could not come from another person—it had to come from me. I am the person I spend the most time with; I am the one who is there when I wake up, go to school, eat, shower, laugh, cry, and sleep.

If I hate myself, no amount of love from anyone else can counteract the constant hatred.

I started out slow—wearing more makeup and clothing that made me comfortable, but eventually I socialized more, voiced my opinion, laughed out loud, and loved myself even when I made mistakes.  For the first time, I let people in and I let myself out.

For the first time, I am ready for another person to see me in my entirety.  I am ready to be loved by someone; only my self-worth is not dependent on their love.  I will love myself regardless of who loves me or hates me.

My whole life I’ve been told to pay attention.  I was told that I would never do well in school because I couldn’t stay focused. It wasn’t until much later that I realized I had ADD.

When I was four, I learned how to tie my shoe laces. About a week afterwards, I completely forgot how. I sat on the stairs of my childhood home, completely baffled with myself.

At the time, I never understood why I couldn’t remember; my parents just thought I was being a typical four-year-old who constantly forgot things.

Once I started school, things got worse.  I would come home from school and my mom would ask me how my day went and I would just reply with a simple, “Good.” The honest truth was that there were parts of my day I couldn’t even remember.

Me and my family.

This resulted in me almost failing kindergarten. Yes, kindergarten. The place where all you do is learn about shapes, basic words, and numbers.

My mom pleaded with my teacher to let me pass if I got my reading and math skills up.

Every night after school, I had to sit at the table with my mom and go through everything I learned at school that day.

This would take hours. We would sit at the kitchen table from when I got home to when I went to bed. The rules consisted of no playing with friends, watching TV, or playing sports until my reading and math levels went up.

I was so frustrated with myself that I couldn’t remember simple things. This routine continued on for about four years. My parents tried everything: from having me stay after school with teachers, to my grandma (who is a retired teacher) tutoring me, to even enrolling me in an after-school learning program. Even with all their efforts, none of it worked.

It wasn’t until the fourth grade that I was tested for a learning disability.

Come to find out I had something called Attention Deficit Disorder (ADD). This basically means that I struggle with focusing on one thing.

Think of it like focusing on five things at once, all day every day. Then when your brain says I’ve had enough, it “shuts down.”

From the outside, it appears like you are daydreaming, but on the inside, you are actually fighting to get out of this state of aimlessly staring at something irrelevant for a countless amount of time.

Me and my teammate after winning a volleyball competition.

After I was diagnosed, I was put in special education classes because I was behind in reading and math by two grades. I hated it.

They made me feel stupid, as if I wasn’t as smart as everyone else. From that point forward, I vowed to myself that I was going to do whatever it took to get out of these classes.

By the time I reached middle school, my reading and math levels were up to a sixth grade level. I believe this did not happen because I was in special education classes; this happened because of my determination to make myself better.

I worked hard every single day. When I got home, I sat in my room and re-taught myself everything we went over in class. Once I was caught up in school, my parents finally allowed me to pick a sport I wanted to play. I chose volleyball and absolutely loved it.

ADD had shown me at a young age what determination and a good work ethic look like. During middle school and high school, I got all As and Bs and never went back to a special education class.

In high school, I even took a couple honors courses. I never told my teachers about my disability; I always wanted to be treated like a normal student. I hate special treatment.

When my mom told my teachers about it at the end of the year, they were always dumbstruck because it never seemed like I had any issues with paying attention. Most of my friends didn’t even notice until I told them about it.

I kept it as my little secret because I never wanted anyone to treat me like I was stupid or slow because of it.

Having ADD is a part of who I am as a person.  It has taught me a lot about how strong and determined I am.

Not only did it help me excel in school, but it also helped me become a great volleyball player. Turns out, having ADD is great for volleyball, I can focus on five things at once and not be overwhelmed and still get the job done.

I blame ADD for making me a self-determined person. I would not be a D1 volleyball player at Georgia State University without it. It has shown me so much about my personal strength and how I can do anything I put my mind to.

God gave me ADD for a reason; He gave me this challenge because I was strong enough to overcome it. I no longer see my ADD as a disability. Instead, I see it as a gift.

I have been working as a freelancer for the past two years now. I often get asked if it’s easy and what it’s like to be self-employed, so I thought I would tell my story.

I love my freelance life and I couldn’t be happier that I made the decision to do it alone, but it hasn’t been easy and there are definitely pros and cons to both kinds of lifestyle. Whether you succeed in one or the other ,I think it comes down to what you want to achieve and what kind of person you are.

I’ve always been a very self-motivated person and found in my first ‘corporate’ job that my commitment and dedication to my career were not being rewarded adequately or quickly enough.

I stayed late and worked extra hours and was very involved in the corporate mission for greatness, but for me the time frame in this environment just didn’t cut it. I saw no direct reward for the extra effort I was putting in and being told I would be up for a pay review in 6-9 months didn’t motivate me to stay.

For some people I understand that the security of a regularly paid job, coupled with the more standard career route of rising through the ranks is a dream come true, but it turns out I wanted something different.

I don’t think I actually appreciated that I wanted to work for myself until I quit my job and went for it. I’ve never been as scared as I was when I made the decision to quit. I had worked my whole life to land that corporate city job…nearly 20 years in education!

So you can imagine my despair when I realized a year or so in that I was not as happy as I had envisioned. After a week of difficult conversations with family and friends, I quit.

I had some savings behind me, and the intention of finding a more rewarding and higher paid role. I spent a few weeks enjoying my new found freedom in the city but naturally got a little bored, so I started helping some friends with various projects, while interviewing for full-time roles.

A month or so after quitting I was involved in several freelance projects and actually being paid for most of them! I decided that I would push back finding another full time job and see how I could get on with self-employment.

I had accidentally become a freelancer. Over the first few months I taught myself a lot of new skills while doing projects at the same time. I spent hours networking, learning, and building my personal brand. I’ve never been happier.

Finding work can sometimes be difficult, but you have to have a balance between the work that you are doing for others and the time you spend on your own business development. The life of a freelancer isn’t easy.

At least one working day a week should be spent on building relationships and sourcing new work to make sure that you don’t end up finishing a project with no new work in site.

One of the biggest perks of the job for me is that I can carry on learning while I am earning. I put a lot of my cash back into my education, as a business would with its employee training. This is another really important thing to remember to make sure you stay ahead of the curve in your industry.

It is also important to get into a good work/life balance routine. It can be very easy to work all hours of the day, especially as you see more and more money coming in. However, taking a break will mean you perform better and ultimately will get more work in the long term.

It took me a while to figure this one out but now I work normal working hours, just from the comfort of my own home. I can get up slowly, exercise, have a healthy breakfast, and watch the news. I don’t have to fight with angry commuters and so I save about 2 hours a day of travel time (which I use for personal development).

The best part? I can work anywhere in the world! Right now I am writing this post from an airplane on the way to Miami.

So long as I keep in touch with clients and the work gets done, they don’t care where I am.

So now that you know my story, here are some top tips for becoming a top notch freelancer and kicking ass at life:

• Learn how to sell yourself… Don’t give your work away for free. Friends and clients will always ask for favors but know your day rate and stick to it. If you don’t value your work, others won’t either.
• Know what your time is worth. Here’s the simple math that all freelancer’s use when they are offered a job: first decide on your hourly rate (it might be £20 for someone starting out, £100 or more for someone more established). Then divide the payment offered by how many hours you think the job will take. If it doesn’t match or exceed your minimum rate, consider taking a pass.
• Find the right workspace. If you have the perfect home office, then problem solved. If not, consider a table in a library (if you crave quiet) or a perch in a favorite coffee bar (if you need people around). A co-working office space like those offered by WeWork is the best of both worlds: a professional environment filled with other creative people who are just as passionate about their work as you are. Personally, I love sitting in Starbucks.
• Be an expert in something. Sure, you can be a jack-of-all-trades, but the best way to break into freelancing is to impress clients with your knowledge of a particular subject. If marketing is your bag, consider which elements you prefer (i.e. PR / Social Media etc.) and pick a niche.
• Be pleasant to work with. Almost as important as taking deadlines seriously. Freelancers who get hired again and again are the ones who make a client’s life easier.
• Work your network. It is who you know that matters or, more importantly, who knows you! So get out there and get connecting!
• Know, and use, social media. Use Twitter, Facebook, Instagram, LINKEDIN —any social media platforms, really—to get the word out about work you’ve completed. It doesn’t just get the word out about that one piece: it helps promote you as a freelancer and might help get you future jobs.
• Keep on top of business administration.  Record your projects and deadlines. Include when you sent your invoice, for how much, and when you were paid. You’ll thank me for this one later.

Being a freelancer comes with its risks and rewards, but, for me, it has been one of the best decisions that I’ve ever made.