That’s what my late grandmother used to say—words I didn’t fully understand until my body, spirit, and capacity nearly gave out from carrying it all: my family’s burdens, my students’ traumas, my community’s expectations, and my own invisible illnesses.

For years, I believed leadership meant holding it all together, alone. But I’ve come to realize: true care doesn’t mean collapsing under the weight of others—it means creating space to be held, too.

I created MOVERS PLWC because I never found a space that met all of me—the teacher, the healer, the chronically ill patient, the career woman, the daughter, the survivor.

Through surgeries, flatlines, medical gaslighting, and complete burnout, I kept showing up for others—even when no one showed up for me. I built strength in the shadows, and I made myself a promise:

✨ To become the very person I needed.

Not just for me—but for every professional, caregiver, or advocate who’s been “the strong one” for far too long.

MOVERS PLWC is more than a membership.

It’s the structured, sacred space I wish I had — and finally built.