Truth is, I've been advocating my entire life. As the oldest of 10 children in an immigrant family, I became the unofficial healthcare navigator before I even knew what that meant. I scheduled appointments, filled out insurance forms, translated medical information, and educated family members about their conditions. I fought through language barriers and cultural misunderstandings to ensure my family got the care they needed.

I understood firsthand what it felt like to be overlooked, misunderstood, or dismissed by healthcare systems. I knew the fear of not being heard or believed. I knew what it meant to have someone in your corner who truly understood your experience.

Later, as a nurse, I naturally became the advocate for patients who looked like me or came from backgrounds like mine — the ones who were often rushed through appointments, whose pain wasn't taken seriously, or who felt intimidated by the medical system.

But it was my Aunt Fay who showed me the true power of advocacy. When she faced serious health challenges requiring a tracheostomy, her children trusted me to learn her care and teach them. I fought for her in care meetings, pushed back when her care fell short, and made sure her voice was heard —even after she could no longer speak for herself.

Aunt Fay passed away two years ago, but she's the reason I named my advocacy business in her honor. Standing up for patients and families in their most vulnerable moments isn't just what I do — it's who I've always been.