In 2010, I received a text from my husband of 20 years that he had decided to leave our family. I knew all of our lives would never be the same. I knew that our circumstances would not change — but I could. My four children and I joined the ranks of “divorcehood” together, with all of the challenges and statistics that come along with it. 

 

 

Twenty-five years prior, I had spent four years at another university, only credits away from a degree. So, my current situation catapulted me to the campus of Utah Valley University to finish my education. On the first day of classes, I felt like a fish out of water. I walked into my first math class in 20 years, so afraid. It might as well have been in Chinese. I walked out of the building that day thinking, “I cannot do this.” Ready to give up on this endeavor that was just beginning, I felt compelled to go to my next class and just give it a try. The material resonated with me, and the professor reached out with intrigue and compassion regarding my situation and acknowledged my talent in writing. For one of my first assignments, I asked if I could start a blog in place of one of our writing assignments. That blog became a source of great catharsis for me, and has also meant a lot to others and my children as they have gotten older. 

During those first two semesters I learned more about career options. I jumped from undecided to nursing to elementary education and back to undecided. I was running into roadblock after roadblock with scheduling, three part-time jobs, and family time. I felt frustrated and defeated, ready to give up on my degree. At this time, I found myself at the start of another semester, the first day of classes that involved the introduction of names and majors. As everyone was introducing themselves, there were a couple of students before me who said they were pursuing a degree in public health and I thought to myself, “Well, that sounds good for today.” In my mind, I ran through how I would introduce myself: “Hi, my name’s Debbie, I was dumped,” or “Hi, I’ve been abandoned,” or “Hi, my name’s Debbie, and I have no idea what I’m doing here.” I was feeling low. I ended up just saying my name and, at the last minute, claiming public health as my major. As I was driving home from campus, somewhat discouraged, I noticed just at the top of my street a sign that read, “UVU Health Professionals Building.” That sign was more than just a name on a building, but direction. “I am going to pursue public health!” I thought. I went in the very next day, talked to the right people, began my journey, and have never looked back. 

Many professors reached out to me, and UVU became my personal cheering squad. With the help of counselors, professors, and peers, I was able to find my passion, develop new skills, and discover new talents. 

In April of 2015, I walked the Hall of Flags in cap and gown and received my degree in public and community health, magna cum laude.