Every Door I Dared to Open: My Unconventional Path to Veterinary Medicine

I am not someone who dreamed of becoming a veterinarian as a child. There are no veterinarians in my family — only an abundance of doctors and lawyers. When it came time to choose a career, like many who weren’t sure, I gravitated toward what felt familiar. In my mind, I couldn’t possibly be a doctor, so I chose law.

Majoring in Criminal Justice during my undergraduate years forced me to confront a hard truth: I was chasing a version of success that left no room for my passion, joy, or fulfillment. As graduation approached, the idea of becoming a lawyer felt both hollow and heavy.

Two things became my escape: waitressing and singing. The fast-paced, people-centered rhythm of the restaurant played to my strengths, and I discovered a natural and effective ability to communicate. Singing offered something even deeper. Rooted in my background in musical theater, it allowed me to express emotion freely and forge connections that words alone could not. I waitressed on weekends and performed every chance I got, trying to outrun the looming specter of what I believed was an inevitable, inescapable future after graduation.

However, without passion driving me forward, even waitressing eventually became exhausting. Through it, I realized I did not want to sell people something or persuade them — I wanted to genuinely relate to them. I did not want to win arguments or convince anyone I was right — I wanted to support others in meaningful ways. And most importantly, around this time was when I finally admitted to myself that I did not want to be a lawyer.

During a particularly frustrating shift at the restaurant, I received a text message from my mother. She told me that the animal rescue organization we fostered dogs for had an opening for a receptionist position at the veterinary office they were affiliated with. The predictable hours and steady pay were the most appealing factors. I applied, and a job offer came the following week. I found myself standing at a crossroads that, unbeknownst to me, would shape the rest of my life.

One road led back to waitressing because, as frustrating and exhausting as it could be, I knew I would still choose it over law school. The other led to veterinary medicine, a path I knew nothing about. It could be smooth or treacherous. It might even return me to the same place where I stood, uncertain and unfulfilled. Swallowing my apprehension, fear, and doubt, I stepped onto the second path — an act of bravery that makes writing this story possible.

Joining an animal care team brought color back into my life. The purpose, passion, and dedication I had been searching for began to take root in the veterinary setting. At 22 years old, with an undergraduate degree in an unrelated field, I finally realized that I wanted to be a veterinarian.

I started my education from scratch, enrolling in general biology, chemistry, and physics while working full time at the clinic. As my foundational knowledge grew, so did my ability to understand common disease processes and the clinical reasoning behind each decision. I became an indispensable member of the team — which, in theory, should have been a good thing. However, some viewed my curiosity and growth as a threat. I soon found myself confined to the reception desk. My world faded back into shades of gray almost as quickly as it had burst into color.

Despite this shift, I continued to complete my prerequisite courses and learned to navigate the challenge strategically. I listened carefully from my desk, observed everything I could, and claimed every opportunity to grow. When too many days ended in tears, I recognized yet another hard truth: I had outgrown that clinic, and it was time to move on. 

Once I left, I found myself sitting across from one of the world’s leading veterinary dermatologists asking for a job. I felt confident after completing a working interview during which a technician casually asked me to draw blood. All those hours of quiet observation at my previous clinic paid off. The first time the needle was in my hand, I nailed it on the first try.

That confidence all but vanished when a sheet of medical math problems was slid in front of me. The numbers might as well have been hieroglyphics, and my heart pounded in my ears as I scribbled in a quiet panic. After a moment, I stopped, took a deep breath, and slid the paper back across the desk. Meeting the doctor’s eyes, I said, “Honestly, I don’t know how to do these. But I am a fantastic learner.”

And just like that, the job was mine. 

My career skyrocketed. Under the mentorship of Dr. Andrew Rosenberg and with the guidance of Animal Dermatology Group, one successful blood draw became hundreds. That entry-level skill quickly expanded into IV catheter placement, endotracheal intubation, anesthesia monitoring, intradermal skin testing — and yes, even medical math. The foundation I built there opened doors to surgical and procedural roles beyond dermatology, broadening both my clinical experience and my confidence. Each opportunity compounded the last, teaching me to approach every challenge as a chance to grow.   

When I applied to veterinary school at age 25, I did so with both confidence and caution. I knew I was competing with applicants who had followed more traditional paths, many of whom had dreamed of becoming a veterinarian since childhood. My journey had been less direct, to say the least, but it had been intentional, and I was hoping that would be enough. From the beginning, my sights were set on LSU School of Veterinary Medicine, despite knowing how competitive out-of-state admission could be. While waiting for LSU’s final decision, I was grateful to receive multiple acceptances and decided to commit elsewhere. Then, in the spring of 2024, I found myself once again at a crossroads — one path leading to the program where I had already accepted a seat, and the other to LSU.

The day after receiving the call from LSU, my mom and I boarded a plane from New Jersey to Louisiana. We landed in New Orleans, where jazz and blues spilled into the streets and southern sunlight warmed my face. The air felt alive. After touring the school, there was no hesitation. I was meant to be an LSU Tiger.

My time at LSU has been the most transformative chapter of my life. I am surrounded by students who challenge and inspire me, faculty who are both brilliant and deeply invested in our growth, and opportunities that stretch me daily. For the first time, nothing feels forced. Nothing feels hollow. I am exactly where I am meant to be.

Standing at two crossroads — first when I left law behind, and again when I chose LSU — taught me the most important lesson of all: Stepping into the unknown is the first stride toward becoming who you’re meant to be. It was never easy, but each leap brought me closer to a purpose entirely my own.

Reflecting on these moments, I am grateful for every door I dared to open and for the person I became along the way. I am thankful for my family and friends, who supported me through each transition, and for the clinicians who believed in me when I struggled to believe in myself. Above all, I am grateful to LSU School of Veterinary Medicine for trusting students like me and giving us the chance to shape our own extraordinary paths.

About LSU Vet Med: Bettering lives through education, public service, and discovery

The LSU School of Veterinary Medicine is one of only 33 veterinary schools in the U.S. and the only one in Louisiana. LSU Vet Med is dedicated to improving and protecting the lives of animals and people through superior education, transformational research, and compassionate care. We teach. We heal. We discover. We protect.