When Your College Assignment Becomes a Blog Post (Because Why Not Double-Dip?)

So here's the deal - I've got this assignment for my final semester at Ottawa University where I'm supposed to reflect on my "college journey." insert eye roll here But you know what? This is actually kind of perfect for the blog because holy shit, what a ride it's been.

Picture this: 2015, middle-of-nowhere Wisconsin (specifically Lac du Flambeau reservation), and there I am - a high school dropout with more issues than National Geographic - deciding to take an EMT course. Why? Because it was free, and free is my favorite price point. Plot twist: I actually passed it. Mind. Blown.

Let me tell you about EMT training, because that shit was wild. Imagine a bunch of adults crawling around on floors, strapping each other to boards, and aggressively pumping on dummies. It's like BDSM meets healthcare, minus the safe word. But it introduced me to the special brand of dark humor you only find in emergency medicine. There's something about regularly asking "So... is anyone else hungry?" after particularly graphic trauma scenarios that bonds people for life.

That success went straight to my head, and I thought, "Hey, maybe I could do more school!" Classic mistake, right? Started chasing a Medical Assistant degree because apparently, I hate myself. Spoiler alert: Got taken down by a typing test. Yes, you read that right. A TYPING TEST. In an age where autocorrect practically writes our grocery lists, some sadist decided perfect typing speed matters. To whoever invented typing tests: I hope both sides of your pillow are warm. Forever.

But here's where it gets interesting (and by interesting, I mean tragically hilarious). I switched to substance use counseling courses because - get this - I thought I could "fix" my then-husband. pause for collective laughter Yeah, because that's totally how addiction works. Oh, and let's be real - I was also in it for that sweet, sweet financial aid money. Single mom survival tactics 101, am I right?

Speaking of being a single mom - holy shit, what a juggling act. There I was, trying to balance work, school, and kids, failing spectacularly at times. My solution? Material gifts! Because nothing says "Sorry Mommy's always working" like throwing presents at the problem. Spoiler alert: had to actually learn how to parent eventually. But watching my kids emerge from dysfunction into these amazing human beings? Worth every sleep-deprived moment. Special shoutout to my oldest who rocks the autism spectrum and can info-dump like a champion - you're basically a walking Wikipedia and I'm here for it.

The real kicker? I'm sitting in class one day, thinking I'm absolutely crushing it (narrator: she wasn't), when this professor drops this bomb: "You have to be healthier than your clients." Well, shit. Talk about a reality check that feels like getting hit with a baseball bat wrapped in truth and wrapped again in "get your life together."

Let's talk about online learning because that deserves its own special circle of hell. My dog ate my homework - literally ate my computer cord. I've lost more assignments to tech failures than I care to count. I've bought computers, lost computers, had internet, didn't have internet, and pulled out enough hair to make a small wig. To all my classmates whose discussion posts I've read at 3 AM: some of you are secret geniuses, and some of you... well, I'm genuinely concerned about how you found the power button.

The real fire under my ass came when I was working in residential treatment and realized my in-training license was about to expire. Nothing quite motivates you like the threat of career death, am I right? Four years of intense work in residential - loving it but feeling like I'd been put through an emotional wood chipper - and I wasn't about to let it slip away.

But you want to know the real gag? This high school dropout, this former addict from the backwoods of Wisconsin, now owns a house. Has a car that actually runs. Works not one, but two jobs she actually loves (shocking, I know). I'm talking patient-centered outpatient treatment where they actually let me have autonomy (dangerous, I know), and this cool gig with an online recovery platform called IGNDT where I get to be an accountability coach. Plot twist: I'm actually good at this stuff.

The most unexpected thing I've learned? That I'm not a failure. I know, weird right? Turns out all that stuff about core values and dysfunction we learn about in counseling hits different when you're unpacking your own baggage while helping others with theirs.

None of this would've happened without my significant other - the real MVP who's been holding down the fort and consistently telling me I can do this while I've been slowly losing my mind over the past six years. Having someone actually proud of you? That shit hits different when you're not used to it.

So yeah, this is technically a college assignment. But it's also a middle finger to everyone who said I couldn't do it. It's a love letter to second chances. And it's proof that sometimes the most messed up starting points lead to the best stories.

P.S. - To my professor who's reading this (because hi, this is also my assignment): See how I reflected on my journey AND maintained my brand voice? That's what we call efficiency. Or rebellion. Maybe both. Also, thanks for making me write this because turns out, I've come a pretty long way from that person who thought a typing test was going to end her career.-Belle-