This year has been one of immense growth, bold decisions, and valuable lessons. Reflecting on the past 12 months, I've compiled 24 key takeaways from my experiences in 2024. Here’s what I learned:
1. Embrace the Inevitability of Failure
The most growth and opportunity often arise from taking risks, even when you expect to fail. Feeling unprepared or "not good enough" doesn’t disqualify you. This year, some of my greatest achievements came from trying despite low expectations.
I started my MSW program and, as one of the youngest in my cohort, I faced feelings of inadequacy. Yet, I was selected for incredible roles: Cohort Representative, President of the Social Work Society, and a Graduate Research Assistant position for a USF grant—all achieved despite lacking “related” experience.
Not every attempt was successful. One of the hardest setbacks was being deferred from the ITRE Graduate Certificate Program, a prestigious scholarship opportunity between two universities, accepting fewer than 12 candidates from master’s and PhD programs. While I wasn’t selected, I asked for feedback and learned I was among the few deferred due to the stiff competition. Instead of being discouraged, I embraced the no, prepared for growth in 2025, and committed to applying for the 2026 cohort.
2. Ask and Build Connections Without Immediate Expectations
Sometimes, the connections you make today will pave the way for opportunities tomorrow. I learned this lesson when pursuing my dream of resilience education in schools. This vision, which began as a 501(c)(3) I founded in 2023, struggled to gain traction while balancing my other responsibilities. When I started my MSW program, I shared this dream with a new mentor and asked for advice on how to bring it to life.
He encouraged me to connect with researchers in the School of Social Work. I reached out to several, and while only a few responded, one agreed to meet briefly for a remote conversation. She shared insights into research opportunities and suggested I check back in during the fall semester. Months later, she emailed me about the STAY research grant program and encouraged me to apply.
Initially, I was intimidated—I lacked research experience, didn’t have expertise working with individuals with disabilities, wasn’t bilingual, and doubted my qualifications for the role. Despite my fears, I prepared thoroughly, had a great interview, and emphasized my transferable skills. To my surprise, I was offered one of three Graduate Research Assistant positions.
Now, I’m thriving in this role. I’ve taken on significant responsibilities, such as digital design for the project, sparked meaningful discussions about innovative research methods, and been celebrated as a valued team member. This experience reinforced the importance of asking for guidance and building connections, even when there’s no immediate outcome in sight—you never know what doors might open.
3. Ask, Show Gratitude, and Offer Value in Return
This year, I saved thousands of dollars while pursuing growth and serving others, all because I wasn’t afraid to ask for help. From attending conferences and luncheons to competing for Miss Florida, many of these opportunities were made possible through sponsorships.
I approached individuals/organizations and shared my genuine desire to learn and grow, explaining how fiscal restraints as a full-time student limited my access. By being honest and passionate about my goals, I received sponsorships that covered several opportunities.
The key wasn’t just asking—it was showing gratitude and offering value in return. Whether through volunteering, promising an “I owe you,” or fostering relationships built on mutual respect and appreciation, I ensured these connections were meaningful. These relationships have not only afforded me incredible opportunities but also enriched my journey with mentorship and support.
This year taught me that asking isn’t selfish when it’s paired with gratitude and a willingness to give back. It’s about building connections rooted in respect and shared purpose, creating opportunities for growth and service along the way.
4. Play the Game and Follow the Rules
Growing up, I was defiant about following protocol, especially when I saw it as ineffective or unjust. This year, I learned the value of working within the system to create meaningful change.
As Cohort Representative in my MSW program, I was entrusted with relaying student feedback to faculty. Driven by a desire to improve the student experience, I pitched solutions and proposed initiatives based on this feedback. However, I quickly realized that my role wasn’t designed to "do" anything beyond communication, and my ideas seemed to go nowhere.
Frustrated but determined, I decided to follow the established grievance process instead of bypassing it with personal connections I’d developed through my experience as Miss Tampa. Sticking to protocol was challenging, but it earned me respect from leadership. My efforts led to meaningful conversations, and progress is now underway.
Additionally, I stepped into the role of President of the Social Work Society to take charge of initiatives that enhance the student experience. I’m collaborating with staff to revitalize the Phi Alpha Honor Society chapter at USF and exploring ways to fund my personal efforts. One of my proposals includes creating a Graduate Assistant position, the "Student Enrichment Liaison," to focus on these efforts.
I’m heading into 2025 with a clear plan and actionable goals. Playing the game and following the rules taught me that patience and persistence within a system can lead to sustainable, impactful change.
5. Authenticity Always Matters
Competing on the Miss Florida stage in 2024 was a transformative experience because I showed up as my authentic self. While I didn’t win the crown, I left the competition proud of how I represented myself—a reward far greater than any title.
When I competed in 2022, I was unsure of who I was, how I wanted to present myself, or what I truly stood for. This uncertainty showed in my choices and left me feeling disconnected from the experience. Competing again in 2024, I made a conscious decision to fully embrace who I am.
I chose to play Concert Etude, a trumpet solo that pushed my skills and honored a talent that felt personal and meaningful. My wardrobe was entirely my choice, each piece reflecting my taste and confidence. Every aspect of my performance was rooted in authenticity and self-expression.
This shift in mindset—from competing for validation to competing for myself—changed everything. I walked off the stage without a crown but with a deep pride in how I showcased myself. I may have left a “loser” in the technical sense, but I felt like I had truly won. Authenticity is the ultimate victory, and this experience reaffirmed that being yourself is always worth it.
6. Making New Friends Is Scary but Worth It
Moving to Orlando full-time brought the challenge of building new social connections from scratch. Making friends as an adult can feel daunting, but this year, I embraced the discomfort, took chances, and discovered just how rewarding it can be.
I pushed myself to attend events alone, knowing that every outing was an opportunity to meet new people. One standout experience was attending a poker game at a local bar, despite having minimal poker experience. It was intimidating at first, but now I play monthly with the friends I made there.
Not stopping there, I also took the initiative to host a few poker nights myself. These gatherings helped me meet people my age and create a budding social circle in a new city. Building connections took courage and persistence, but it reminded me that the risk of vulnerability is always worth the potential reward of friendship. Now, I have a community to grow with and a foundation for future friendships in my new home.
7. Splurging Is Okay in Moderation
Growing up, I was always frugal—avoiding name brands, buying second-hand, and scouring clearance sales. Even now, I lean toward practicality over indulgence. But this year, I learned that it’s okay to splurge on yourself occasionally, especially for meaningful, once-in-a-lifetime moments.
At Miss Florida, I chose the more expensive gown. Why? Because the opportunity to compete on that stage is rare—I’ve had the privilege twice so far, and this time might have been my last. It felt important to honor the moment with something special. Similarly, I bought a new dress for the USF Homecoming Parade, even though I had a dress that could have worked. Why? Because how many times in my life will I get to be part of a parade?
These choices weren’t just about the dresses—they were about celebrating myself and the unique moments that make life special. I’ve realized that I am worth investing in, and so are my accomplishments. Splurging doesn’t have to be a habit, but when done thoughtfully, it’s a way to honor the experiences that define us and make life memorable.
8. Is Doing Too Much Ever Too Much When It’s for Kindness and Change?
This year, I questioned whether I was “doing too much” in my pursuit of change within my degree program. Discouragement crept in as I second-guessed my efforts, wondering if I was being excessive. But then, a handful of students expressed their gratitude for my relentless advocacy for justice and progress.
Their appreciation reminded me of why I push so hard. I am eager to do "too much" for people who are too often given too little, and I recognize that this drive comes from acknowledging and using my privilege. If being labeled as “too much” is the cost of creating positive change, I accept it proudly. I’ve realized that I would much rather risk being seen as excessive in my efforts than face the regret of having done too little.
Kindness and advocacy are powerful forces, even when they require great effort. This year, I learned that being “too much” isn’t a flaw—it’s a reflection of my commitment to making a difference, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.
9. Your Efforts Are Never in Vain
Whether your efforts serve only you or reach thousands, they hold value. This year, I embraced a new identity—one that is unapologetically loud about politics and justice. After years of being quiet and passive, I found my voice and used it to advocate for rights and equity.
Leading up to the election, I spent hours researching the amendments on the ballot. During this deep dive, I realized that not everyone has the same access to resources, education, or time to fully understand these issues. So, I created an Instagram post with graphics breaking down each amendment, explaining what it meant in simple terms, and outlining the implications of voting “yes” or “no.”
Initially, I wasn’t sure if the effort would have much impact. With just over 2,000 followers and typically low engagement on my posts, I doubted it would reach far. But I believed it was worth sharing to help others become more informed voters. To my surprise, the post reached 21,805 views, was shared 245 times, and saved 128 times—far beyond anything I had imagined.
What made me most proud was that this post was unbiased advocacy. While my surrounding posts reflected my own political beliefs, this one stood apart as an accessible, neutral resource. It showed me that even small acts of effort can ripple out and make a meaningful difference, proving that your work is never in vain when it’s done with purpose.
10. Know When to Say No and When to Let Go
This year, I learned the importance of recognizing when something isn’t working and having the courage to walk away. I took on a new job but left after just 90 days. Initially, I was convinced that I was the problem—my mental health plummeted, and I felt inadequate and frustrated with my perceived shortcomings.
But when I stepped back to assess the bigger picture, I realized something important: in other areas of my life, I was thriving. I was excelling as a research assistant, succeeding in my classes, and thriving on other teams where I contributed through digital design and underwriting. The issue wasn’t me; it was the environment.
Quitting was one of the hardest decisions I’ve made. It felt like I had let myself and the team down, and the guilt was overwhelming. To make things more challenging, I learned some hard lessons about the proper protocols for quitting, which made the situation even more uncomfortable and unfortunate.
Despite the pain and difficulty, I know I made the right choice. Walking away allowed me to refocus on areas where I was thriving and regain confidence in my abilities. Sometimes, saying no and letting go is the most self-respecting thing you can do, even when it feels like a failure in the moment.
11. Let Go of What Doesn’t Align With Your Highest Self
As we evolve, so do our needs, values, and priorities. Letting go of what no longer aligns—whether it’s relationships, places, jobs, or hobbies—can be incredibly difficult. It’s like holding onto a favorite sweater that no longer fits. Maybe we’ve outgrown it, or it’s been worn and mended so many times that it no longer serves us. The same applies to life: if something no longer supports your growth, it’s time to let it go.
For me, this realization hit hard during the election. The results were devastating, and I found myself feeling disconnected from some of my closest relationships because of stark differences in political opinion. I know it’s a controversial stance to let go of friendships over politics, but for me, it went deeper. When I was heartbroken over the election’s outcome, those closest to me couldn’t comfort me because we no longer shared the same values. That realization was painful but necessary—it wasn’t a relationship that served me anymore.
12. Friendships Serve Different Purposes, and That’s Okay
Not every friendship needs to be a ride-or-die relationship to have value. This year, I learned that friendships can exist in varying degrees and serve different purposes, and each type still matters. Having different people in your life for different reasons enriches your experience and adds balance.
For example, I have “academic friends” like Catherine, my co-Cohort Representative. We share political alignment and great academic conversations, but she lives across the country and wouldn’t be my go-to for a casual thrifting trip. On the other hand, I now have poker friends—they’d never sit through a pageant, but that’s why I have my pageant friends. These groups fulfill different roles in my life, and I’ve learned to appreciate each for what they bring, rather than expecting one person or group to meet all my needs.
Previously, I struggled with black-and-white thinking and an all-or-nothing approach to friendships. I believed every relationship had to be deep and all-encompassing to be meaningful. But that’s not practical, and it limits my ability to connect. This year, I’ve embraced the idea that not all friendships have to be “that deep,” and acquaintanceships can be just as valuable.
Now, I’m nurturing relationships that suit my life and letting go of the unrealistic expectation that any single friendship must provide everything. By accepting people for who they are and what they offer, I’ve found more balance and fulfillment in my social connections. This mindset shift has been freeing and has made room for friendships that truly complement my life.
13. You Are Not the Little Girl Who Was Hurt, and You Don’t Have to Carry Her Guilt and Shame
This year, I dedicated hours to therapy, and one of the most profound breakthroughs I’ve had is realizing how much self-inflicted guilt and shame have been holding me back. These feelings, rooted in my past, have shaped how I view myself and navigate the world.
I’ve carried shame for being “unproductive” or for not being liked by everyone. I’ve felt guilt for doing what’s right, even when it came at the cost of opportunities or deviated from what’s considered socially acceptable. Through trauma therapy, I learned to separate myself from the little girl who endured pain and carried these burdens.
I’ve realized that I can look back and tell that little girl she did everything she could with what she had. But I am no longer that child. I am now a grown woman—capable of bravery, confidence, and living free of shame. I don’t have to people-please or seek validation from anyone but myself.
This breakthrough has been transformative. Letting go of the guilt and shame that no longer serve me has made space for a stronger, freer version of myself. I can honor my past while stepping into the woman I am now, unapologetically.
14. You Are the Version of Yourself That Younger You Needed
In therapy this year, I had a powerful realization: I’ve become the version of myself that younger me needed. I am reassuring, supportive, calm, and passionate—the guardian angel I wish I had during my hardest moments. This perspective shifted how I see myself and my growth.
Who I am now is exactly who past me needed, and the same principle applies to my future self. I may not yet be the person I aspire to be, but I am constantly growing and evolving toward her. The work of becoming my best self is ongoing, and that’s okay.
What’s most important is acknowledging how far I’ve already come. Reflecting on my journey, I feel a deep sense of pride for the strength and resilience that got me here. Growth is never truly complete, but recognizing the progress I’ve made helps me stay inspired to keep going. Younger me would be so proud of who I am today, and future me will be proud of the work I continue to do.
15. No Friend or Follower Is Worth Hiding Your Authentic Self
This year, I took one of the scariest steps of my life: I posted about my sexuality for the first time. Coming out as queer was something I had battled internally since eighth grade. In the world of pageantry, in Florida, and even within my own family, being queer is not something that’s widely celebrated.
For years, I carried denial, guilt, and shame, convincing myself that marrying a man was my only option because it was the only socially “approved” path. But this year, I decided to stop hiding. I came out as queer, and while it was terrifying, it was also liberating.
Yes, I lost hundreds of followers, but it was absolutely worth it. By coming out, I made room for new friendships, new opportunities, and new parts of myself to flourish—parts that no longer have to be hidden in the closet (see what I did there?).
Being queer doesn’t make me unsafe to be around kids or unworthy of being a role model. My relationships are just as legitimate and meaningful, even if they don’t fit the “typical” mold. Now, I wear my pride gear proudly, post openly about being queer, and no longer feel the need to lie or hide behind the label of “just an ally.”
This year, I’ve embraced my authentic self, and it’s been a powerful reminder that living honestly is far more valuable than holding onto followers or friendships that can’t accept me for who I truly am.
16. Your Light Doesn’t Dim Because Others Shine
Collaboration and mutual success are far more fulfilling than comparison. This year, I saw this truth come to life in the most beautiful ways. One of the highlights was watching my dear friend Ireland win Miss Florida’s Teen. Her win felt like my own because of the journey we shared—deep conversations, texts of reassurance, Facetimes for outfit checks, and shared tears and fears. When she won, it wasn’t just her moment—it was ours, and the joy of witnessing her success was deeply fulfilling.
Miss Florida week also brought meaningful new connections. I met Dominga Murray, a stunning first-time competitor from out of state, and welcomed her with open arms. Casana “Banana” Fink, Miss Florida 2024, shared a dressing room space with me, and I had the chance to tell her how much I admire her. These moments reminded me that celebrating others doesn’t take away from my own achievements—it enhances them.
Now, I am eagerly awaiting the results of Miss America 2025, genuinely proud that Casana is representing our state. She is truly a remarkable woman, and I’m honored to support her as she shines. Watching her journey inspires me, and I look forward to cheering her on every step of the way.
17. The Power of “And” Over “Or”
In the past, I might have let insecurity push me into reclusiveness, projecting my doubts onto others and distancing myself out of self-preservation. This year, I embraced a new perspective: we don’t have to choose between celebrating others and celebrating ourselves. It’s not about “or”—it’s about “and.”
Miss Florida contestants aren’t comparable—it’s apples to oranges. None of us are the same, and that’s the beauty of it. I realized I don’t have to be the best at everything, because no one can be. Instead, I can embrace my unique qualities. For example, I was the only trumpet player on stage, which meant I was the best trumpet player there.
This shift allowed me to celebrate and empower others while also lifting myself up. By supporting other women alongside myself, I’ve enriched my perspective not only of them but of myself. The power of “and” has transformed how I approach competition, collaboration, and relationships, creating a more fulfilling and uplifting experience.
18. Success Isn’t Quantifiable
Success isn’t something that can always be measured with numbers. For example, in competing for Miss Florida, many might set goals tied to a specific weight or dress size. But this year, I took a different approach. Instead of focusing on numbers, I prioritized self-discipline and balance while ensuring that my size didn’t define my value or how I represented myself on stage.
I wasn’t the smallest contestant, nor was I as small as I was when I won Miss Tampa in 2022. But I’m a woman now, and I’ve embraced my body as it is—celebrating my curves, my chest, my stomach, and my thighs. This self-acceptance was a success for me this year, far more meaningful than any number on a scale or tag in a dress.
19. Success Is About Quality, Not a Checklist
If success is treated like a checklist or tied to numbers, you’ll never truly feel satisfied because the bar will keep moving. Instead, I’ve realized that success is qualitative—it’s found in personal growth and stories like those shared in this very article.
This year, I redefined success as something far richer than metrics. It’s the intangible but deeply valuable progress toward becoming the best version of myself, and that’s the kind of success that truly matters.
20. Have the Hard Conversations
This year, I faced the difficult task of challenging authority by addressing a family member’s mental health concerns. It was heartbreaking to look them in the eye and explain that I needed to set a personal boundary to protect my own mental health, as they hadn’t been taking care of theirs. Watching them cry was soul-crushing, but I followed up with an offer of support and assistance to help them navigate getting the care they needed. Months later, they are now medicated and doing better—not just for themselves but for those around them, including me. Setting that boundary and having that hard conversation was one of the most difficult but rewarding decisions I’ve made, and I’m proud of the positive change it created.
21. It Can Wait
This year, I learned to set boundaries with myself and my anxiety, realizing that not everything has to be done immediately. Responsibilities like laundry or assignments will always be there, but some moments—like an adventure or a chance to recharge—can’t wait. I stopped bailing on opportunities because of other “better” things I thought I should be doing.
I discovered balance: I can go to Disney and still complete my assignments. I can do laundry and still watch a TV show. I don’t have to finish everything all at once. Even doing one chore a day is enough, and that’s okay. Chores, like the rain, are cyclical—there will always be something dirty, and I will never truly be “caught up.” Accepting this has allowed me to prioritize joy and self-care without the constant pressure of perfection.
22. If It Brings You Joy, Do It
This year, I embraced the philosophy that if something brings me joy, I should do it—regardless of how others might perceive me. Whether it’s singing along to songs in a store, doing a happy dance when my food is delicious, or complimenting a stranger’s aesthetic, these little acts of unfiltered happiness light up my day. Sure, some people might find it odd or off-putting, but I’ve realized I’m only 1% of a stranger’s day. Why let fear of what I’m “supposed to do” hold me back? These simple, authentic moments are what make life delightful, and I’ve chosen to lean into them unapologetically.
23. An Apology Is Never a Waste of Time
This year, I learned the value of owning my past mistakes and offering a sincere apology. After sharing a post about my experience with bullying, someone from my past reached out, expressing that they felt I had bullied them. It forced me to reflect deeply. In an interview for Miss Orlando, I had already admitted to having been a bully at one point, acknowledging that hurt people hurt people. I didn’t know how to handle my own issues back then without deflecting and projecting them onto others.
I met this individual from high school at Starbucks, and we talked for two hours. I explained the reasons behind my actions and apologized, fully aware that an apology couldn’t undo the hurt I caused. But that conversation allowed both of us to release the resentment and grudge tied to high school drama. Now, I hope we are both doing better, free from the weight of that unresolved conflict. This experience reinforced that an apology, no matter how late, is never a waste of time—it can be the first step toward healing.
24. The Right People Will Never Shame You for What You Need
This year, I learned to embrace my needs unapologetically, especially during challenging times like the holidays. I spent the season with my partner’s parents, enjoying simple, joyful moments like sleeping in and playing board games. But even in such a welcoming environment, I still faced moments of overstimulation. Sometimes I needed to wear noise-canceling headphones at the dinner table, keep them on while playing a board game, or retreat to the guest room for alone time to regulate my emotions and avoid breaking down into tears or snapping out of frustration.
What stood out was their response—or lack of one. They never questioned, shamed, or even commented on my needs. Their quiet understanding was something I deeply appreciated, especially as this is something my own father is still learning. This experience gave me the confidence to prioritize what makes me feel better, as long as it doesn’t harm anyone else.
Now, I wear my loop earplugs unapologetically in noisy public places like poker nights, bars, or Disney. I allow myself to go non-verbal during a monorail ride if I need a moment. The right people will respect and support your needs, not shame you for them, and learning this has been empowering in ways I didn’t expect.
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