To understand why this wasn’t about another degree, you have to understand the backstory.
I didn’t expect the email when it came.
No buildup.
No warning.
Just a normal moment… sitting in my car, checking my phone at a red light.
And then suddenly—everything shifted.
The letter started with “Congratulations….”
I had been accepted into a doctoral program.
I didn’t cry.
But I felt it.
I was stoked.
My husband knew immediately. I shrieked and threw my phone at him. He calmly read the letter… and then yelled louder than I did.
We did a full-on car dance at that red light right there at the corner of Bandera and Quincy Lee.
I’m pretty sure people thought we had lost our marbles.
And then—just as quickly—
it settled into something quieter.
That overwhelming realization that doesn’t need noise to be real:
Preparation meets opportunity.
It Means More Than the Title
On the surface, a doctorate looks like an academic milestone.
Another degree. Another credential. Another line on a résumé.
But for me—this represents more than even that.
This represents 20 years of choosing not to quit.
Of a journey that has been hard fought and driven by something deeper: a calling to my vocation.
It Was Never Just Me
There’s something else I can’t move past without saying.
None of this happened in isolation.
We talk a lot about hard work, discipline, and perseverance—and those matter. But so does the village.
The community around us.
The people who cover you in prayer when you don’t even know you need it.
The ones who see something in you before you fully see it in yourself.
Especially the village my parents have been part of.
There’s a friend of theirs—someone I’ve known since I was a little girl—who still prays for us regularly.
Years ago, she gave me a gift.
A simple but powerful reminder: pursue your dreams, and remember that in the Lord, all things are possible.
It was a Tiffany’s keychain.
| The keychain |
 |
Because God holds the keys to our dreams.
And that keychain has gone with me everywhere.
Through every season, every setback, every moment where I questioned what was next.
It’s been a quiet reminder in my life that I was never walking this alone.
That faith, covering, and community were always part of the story.
When It Didn’t Look Like This
When I turned 18 and first went to college, I struggled for a while.
Not because I wasn’t capable.
At first things were fine but I wasn’t really where I wanted to be.
Slowly I started to feel unfamiliar and slowly I felt I had lost my way.
And for a while… I floundered.
Outwardly it looked like I knew where I was headed and for a while I did.
But it also ebbed and flowed, though it didn’t stick long enough to result in meaningful outcomes.
Choosing the Hard Reset
A few years later, I moved to San Antonio.
I was there less than 2 years.
And when I left, I left broken in more ways than one—but more aware than I’d ever been.
I knew there were things I needed to address.
Some from adulthood.
Some from childhood.
So I went home… and I did the work.
The quiet kind.
The kind that doesn’t come with recognition.
The kind that rebuilds you from the inside out.
This process was especially painful because there was a lot of wrong speculation made as to what was going on. But I kept pressing forward.
The Shift
I went to work full time—and that was a hard and painful experience.
But it gave me something I didn’t have before:
Clarity.
It taught me why education mattered.
So I made a plan.
At the time, the goal was law school.
And it felt like a long shot.
My GPA had taken a hit during the years I was trying to find my footing.
But I didn’t walk away.
I went to work.
Rewriting My Own Story
By the time I graduated with my undergraduate degree,
I had raised my GPA 55% inside of two years.
That’s not small.
That’s not luck.
That’s discipline… over time.
That work/discipline would open more doors—study abroad, grad school scholarships, and a 160+ LSAT score.
But it still wasn’t enough to get me into law school.
And that could’ve been the end.
But it wasn’t.
Because the plan wasn’t failing—
it was shifting.
My focus was on becoming a legacy Alumn of the school my dad graduated from.
That focus allowed me to easily pivot…and that pivot would turn out to be monumental!
Finding My Path
That same work got me into an MBA program.
And that’s where everything changed.
I found a passion for healthcare.
And within that—data.
The space that challenges me.
The space where I think differently.
The space where I build.
Working at Blue Cross Blue Shield of Texas while finishing my undergraduate degree rooted that knowledge.
What started as a job to get thru school would become the foundation of my career.
Betting on Myself—Again
When I set out on my educational journey the second time around, I had no idea what it would bring.
I didn’t know if I’d find success.
But I knew this:
If I didn’t go for it,
it would be the single biggest regret of my life.
And I knew I would have to work hard to get back to a place of success.
So hard work became the path I chose.
Finishing What I Started
By the time I completed my graduate studies,
I closed that chapter with ~3.6 GPA.
And that number carries more than academic weight.
It includes the summer my mom got really sick—
when I was traveling back and forth between Angelo and Lubbock.
It includes the moments where quitting would have made sense.
But I didn’t.
The Long Vision
A doctoral program has always been part of the plan.
Even when law school didn’t work out, I thought I might revisit the notion of law school later in my career.
Maybe I still will—
with a focus on immigration in retirement.
But I’ve never felt a strong pull to go back.
At least not any time in the recent.
Maybe that’s because along the way, I found what I was actually meant to do.
I found my niche.
Where I Found My Fit
Healthcare Data.
The thing that challenges me.
The thing that stretches my thinking.
The thing that allows me to build, question, and improve systems that matter.
I’ve been fortunate to work in emerging areas of healthcare—spaces that required critical thinking, adaptability, and leadership before I even had the title for it.
The space I’ve sat in is translational work. Connect one thing to another, determining the value and insights.
And this program—one of only a handful of its kind in the country—is a natural fit.
The Moment It Became Real
I laid it all on the table during my interview last week.
Every part of the journey.
So you can imagine my surprise when I got my letter a week later. I was expecting a 2-3 week wait.
I’m still a little in shock.
I Didn’t Get Here Alone
There’s been a team behind me the whole way.
Family.
Friends.
And even the naysayers.
Because if there’s one thing about me—
tell me something can’t be done,
and I’ll find the determination and a way to make it possible.
That drive has been part of me for as long as I can remember.
Closing Reflection
Your words matter.
More than we realize.
They carry life.
They carry weight.
They can breathe belief into someone
when they’re not sure they have it in themselves…
or they can silence something
that was just starting to grow.
Dreams don’t always die loudly.
Sometimes…
it’s just a word.
A moment.
A joke that thinks it’s “cute.”
A voice that said, “you can’t.”
Because words can either limit you…
or light something in you that refuses to quit.
So be the reason someone keeps going.
The voice that says, “try.”
The moment that whispers, “it’s possible.”
The reminder that they’re not crazy
for believing in something more.
Be the reason they choose their dreams.
Your words matter.
They carry the power of life and death.
So be the reason someone chooses to pursue their dreams—
not the reason they quietly bury them.
For me…
this moment is more than an acceptance.
It’s redemption.
It’s years of work meeting purpose.
It’s dreams realized not in my timing—
but in God’s grace and perfect timing.
But it’s also the words of life that were spoken over and into my life that encouraged me when I needed it most. It’s a reminder that I didn’t get here alone.
I couldn’t be more grateful for second chances and the community that has believed and poured into my life.
~ Louda 🤍
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