The Detour That Changed Everything
At 25, I walked into Delgado Community College with a clear plan: become a nuclear medicine technologist. After a long break from education, I was hungry to learn again. I threw myself into my studies with everything I had—maintaining a 4.0 GPA, completing triple the required observation hours, and earning recognition in the honors program. I was a sponge that couldn't get saturated.
Then came the rejection.
I won't bore you with the technicality that kept me out of the nuclear medicine program—honestly, if I told you, you wouldn't believe it. But timing, as they say, is everything. Just as I was dealing with this setback, the medical industry announced a hiring freeze on technical roles. In a field already hypercompetitive, I couldn't afford to wait another year with a young family depending on me.
So I pivoted. Changed a few classes, earned a general studies degree, and entered the workforce with a young family to support.
The Wilderness Years
What followed were some of the most challenging years of my life. I worked as a carpenter, then in warehouses, breaking my back every day just to barely get by as a full-time single father. These weren't just jobs—they were survival mode. Every morning meant another day of physical labor, every paycheck stretched thin, every evening spent juggling parenting duties and the exhaustion that comes with manual work.
But even during those grueling years, something from my college experience lingered. I remembered what it felt like to be that sponge that couldn't get saturated, the student who had said, "I would be a professional student if I could." Those words echoed in quiet moments, but they felt like a luxury I couldn't afford.
The Seeds of a Philosophy
Despite the detours and daily struggles, that love of learning never really died—it just went dormant. I was good at the physical work, eventually working my way up to inventory manager, but something was always missing. I had this unquenchable desire to learn and grow, but for years I didn't know how to harness it professionally, or if I even could.
The Lightbulb Moment
A few years ago, after years of physical labor and financial struggle, when I started looking for a way out—a new career direction that could provide stability for my family—it finally clicked. The revelation was so obvious it was almost embarrassing: Find a career that requires continuous learning!
It was both an "aha!" and a forehead-slap moment. Why didn't I think of this before? All those years of breaking my back in jobs that didn't feed my mind, when I should have found a way to turn that love of learning into a career path. But sometimes you have to go through the wilderness to appreciate the promised land.
That's when I decided IT was where I belonged. A field notorious for constant innovation, where yesterday's cutting-edge becomes today's legacy system. A field with no finish line—and for someone who'd spent years just trying to make ends meet, the promise of intellectual growth and better prospects was like a beacon.
Birth of a Motto
As I began my IT journey, things started to crystallize. A philosophy emerged that keeps me motivated and moving forward: "Seek Always A New Horizon."
This isn't about getting bored with one topic and jumping to another. It's an action statement—a commitment to always learn, grow, and innovate. To dive deeper, collaborate more meaningfully, and reach toward the cutting edge. It's the endless pursuit of growth and development, fueled by an insatiable desire for knowledge.
Other mottos have sprouted from the same revelation, like "Embrace The Journey." Because that's what this is—not a destination, but an odyssey of continuous learning and growth.
The Journey Continues
Today, I'm in my final term at WGU, studying Cloud Computing and preparing to transition from enterprise service desk into a cloud/DevOps role. Every day brings new technologies to master, new problems to solve, new horizons to seek.
When I say "Seek Always A New Horizon," I'm not just talking about career advancement. I'm talking about the mindset that transforms challenges into opportunities, setbacks into redirections, and curiosity into career fuel.
I chose a field with no finish line, and I couldn't be happier about it. I'm not seeking a destination—I'm on an endless journey of discovery. And in a world where the only constant is change, that love of learning isn't just an asset; it's essential.
The Takeaway
If you're someone who's ever felt out of place, who's worked jobs that paid the bills but didn't feed your soul, who's struggled through years of just getting by while that inner voice kept whispering about something more—know this: your unique path has value. Sometimes the very thing that makes you feel different—like an insatiable appetite for learning—is exactly what the world needs.
The physical jobs taught me work ethic. Single parenthood taught me resilience. The financial struggles taught me resourcefulness. The long detour taught me that it's never too late to pivot toward what truly energizes you.
The horizon is always there, waiting. The question isn't whether you'll reach it, but whether you'll have the courage to keep seeking new ones—even when the path gets hard, even when it takes longer than expected, even when you're not sure you deserve it.
What horizons are you seeking?