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If you would’ve told me three years ago I’d be here, writing this, I probably wouldn’t have believed you. Not because I didn’t think I could, but because I didn’t know I was ready. 

Everyone kept telling me about Lookout Mountain Conservancy, my sister especially. She was in the program and doing big things, and part of me admired that, but it also felt like a lot of pressure. They expected me to just step into it, like I was supposed to follow the same path just because she did.

I knew I wasn’t okay back then. Mentally, emotionally, I wasn’t ready. And I knew enough to know I didn’t want to start something this important on someone else’s timeline. So I waited. I held out until it felt like my choice. That’s when I finally showed up.

And honestly, that first day, I felt proud. Because I came on my own time.

Coming in, I already knew a bit about the program from my siblings. But knowing about something isn’t the same as living it. They welcomed me, but they didn’t baby me. They made sure I faced challenges on my own. 

One of the biggest? Learning how to be responsible for myself. 

My siblings have always been the ones I leaned on, especially when I wasn’t feeling strong. But here, I had to show up as me, not just someone’s little sister. I had to learn how to take accountability, manage my attitude, and put in real work, even on the days I didn’t feel like it.

And there were a lot of those days.

Working on trails was probably the hardest for me. It's long, tiring work. You can get bored fast if you let yourself. But something about it, being out there with my hands busy and my mind quiet, it gave me space.

Space to think, to feel, to work through things I had been avoiding for a long time. That was new for me. I used to brush everything off like it didn’t matter, but being on that mountain helped me sit with myself in a way I never had before. It made me feel safe. Truly safe.

I didn’t expect that.

That space helped with my mental health more than I can even explain. It gave me clarity. I’d com

e out of hard days at school or with family, and being in nature, surrounded by the team, just gave me a reset. It was like I could breathe again. And I started to realize I could do hard things.

Last winter, I remember cutting down trees, something I didn’t think I’d be able to do. The saws were heavy, and the cold didn’t make it any easier. But I kept going. And when I finished, I felt something I hadn’t in a long time: accomplished. It was more than just a task- it was proof that I could handle real work. I was proud.

There’s this one project where we had to carry heavy mulch bags. Usually, we make a train line to pass them down, but that day it turned into a competition. How many bags could you carry at once? I didn’t think I’d even be able to do one. But I did more than that. That moment, like a lot of moments here, pushed me to believe in myself.

LMC also taught me how to take constructive criticism. That used to be hard. Like, really hard. Back in freshman year, I would’ve shut down. But when I started at LMC as a junior, I was finally in a place where I could hear feedback and use it to grow. That change alone? Huge.

And I started to see that growth outside of LMC too, especially in soccer. I’ve played since I was little, but I used to let my emotions take over. I’d get so frustrated with my performance, and it made me lash out at my teammates. I thought I had to control them to feel better, when really, I needed to control myself. What I learned at LMC, about keeping a good attitude, working through frustration, being a leader- it changed how I approached the game. I even became captain. That’s something I never thought I’d have the confidence for.

My work ethic changed too. I didn’t even know I had it in me to work this hard. But LMC showed me I did. And when I earned my blue shirt, it was a big deal. I had been putting in the effort for months, and when it happened, I knew I deserved it. That shirt wasn’t just a color; it was recognition. It was people seeing me, the real me.

And that’s the thing. Feeling seen. Before LMC, I didn’t always have that. At home, with everything going on, my family was often too busy, too tired, or just didn’t know how to talk about what I was going through. I felt invisible sometimes. Like my struggles weren’t big enough for anyone to notice. But at LMC, people paid attention. They saw my effort. They motivated me, gave me confidence. They saw that I was struggling and gave me the space to heal and come out of my shell. And that meant everything.

My sister was a big part of that too. We’ve always been close, but working together in the program made us stronger. She believed in me, and when she told me I was doing a good job, I believed it too. That’s not something I was used to hearing from family. And now, I try to pass that same energy onto others. I know what it’s like to need support, so I try to be that for people on the team. Whether it’s with work or mental health, just letting someone know they’re not alone makes a difference.

And that’s the thing. Feeling seen. Before LMC, I didn’t always have that. At home, with everything going on, my family was often too busy, too tired, or just didn’t know how to talk about what I was going through. I felt invisible sometimes. Like my struggles weren’t big enough for anyone to notice. But at LMC, people paid attention. They saw my effort. They motivated me, gave me confidence. They saw that I was struggling and gave me the space to heal and come out of my shell. And that meant everything.

My sister was a big part of that too. We’ve always been close, but working together in the program made us stronger. She believed in me, and when she told me I was doing a good job, I believed it too. That’s not something I was used to hearing from family. And now, I try to pass that same energy onto others. I know what it’s like to need support, so I try to be that for people on the team. Whether it’s with work or mental health, just letting someone know they’re not alone makes a difference.

Looking back, I know I’ve changed. Not just because I can swing a tool or haul mulch, but because I’ve learned how to lead. I’ve learned how to listen, take responsibility, and push through hard days. I’ve grown into someone I’m actually proud of.

I’m getting ready to graduate now, and I’m planning to study kinesiology at Southern Adventist. I want to be an athletic trainer- stay close to the world I’ve always loved, soccer, but help others when they’re hurt. I’ve had my fair share of injuries, and I know how hard that can be, mentally and physically. I want to be someone who makes athletes feel seen, like they’re not alone in what they’re going through. I know what that’s like.

When I think about where I’d be if I hadn’t joined LMC, I honestly don’t know. The old me wouldn’t have lasted. I would’ve let frustration take over. I would’ve walked away. But now? I know how to stay. I know how to show up, even when it’s hard.

LMC wasn’t just a job. It was where I learned who I could be, on my own time, and in my own way. 

-Monica