When people ask why I chose nursing, I never have just one answer. I usually end up telling a story, or two, because the truth is, nursing was never a sudden decision for me. It was something that slowly unfolded through the things I loved growing up—science experiments, acts of service, and the stories that people shared with me, whether in conversation or just through observation. Somewhere along the way, all those threads wove together into something solid. Something real. Nursing.

Early Signs I Didn’t Recognize at First

I didn’t grow up saying I wanted to be a nurse. I grew up sailing on a lake in North Jersey, taking photos of whatever caught my eye, and getting way too into the science olympics in middle school. I loved building things, figuring out how stuff worked, and staying up too late reading novels when I should’ve been asleep. In high school, I performed in theater, joined Civil Air Patrol, and started seeing how service and structure could actually coexist.

Even then, I didn’t fully see it. Looking back, though, the clues were there. I liked being the person who paid attention. The one who noticed the details, who stepped in quietly when something needed doing, who didn’t mind staying after to help clean up. I liked being useful—but in a way that made people feel comfortable, not watched.

Falling in Love with the Human Body

I think the academic side of nursing clicked for me first. In college, anatomy and physiology were like puzzles I couldn’t stop trying to solve. Every system, every organ, every little feedback loop—it was all so smart. The body didn’t just function; it adapted, it responded, it told a story. Learning how the heart compensated for failure, or how kidneys made trade-offs under stress, felt like unlocking a language that people didn’t even know they were speaking.

As an undergraduate teaching assistant in A&P, I found myself excited to help other students see that beauty too. There was something powerful about helping someone go from “this is impossible” to “oh, now I get it.” That moment of understanding—that click—was something I started chasing not just for myself, but for others. It wasn’t just about science anymore. It was about sharing it.

The Service Part Was Always There

My time with Civil Air Patrol in high school taught me a lot about discipline and leadership, but it also showed me how meaningful it is to serve without expecting anything in return. I photographed events, showed up to ceremonies, and felt a quiet sense of pride just being part of something bigger than myself. During that time, I also participated in Covenant House sleepouts, raising awareness for youth homelessness. That experience shifted something in me. It was the first time I really started to see the layers of systems people fall through—and how easily any one of us could end up needing help.

In college, that desire to serve took a more focused shape when I joined Stop the Crisis Philly. We taught people how to use Narcan, how to recognize overdoses, how to talk about addiction without shame. That work was gritty and real, and it taught me how to meet people where they were, without judgment. It made me realize that being a nurse wasn’t just about having knowledge—it was about showing up.

Stories That Stay With Me

What ties everything together for me—photography, science, service—is storytelling. I’ve always been someone who listens for the stories beneath the surface. It’s why I like museums, why I take candid portraits, why I ask questions even when someone says they’re “fine.” Nursing, I’ve come to realize, is a profession made of stories. Some are loud, others are quiet. Some end in healing. Some don’t.

As a new nurse, I find myself holding onto patients’ stories long after my shift ends. The man who told me about his dog back home while we changed his wound dressing. The woman who was scared of surgery but smiled when I found her a warm blanket. The small moments stay with me because they’re real. They matter.

I didn’t become a nurse to “save lives” in some dramatic, movie-scene way. I became a nurse because I believe there is meaning in being with people during the most vulnerable moments of their lives. I believe there’s power in knowing when to speak and when to listen. And I believe that science and service, when combined, can make space for healing—not just in the body, but in the person.

Why I Keep Choosing Nursing

Nursing wasn’t one big decision—it’s a series of small ones that I keep saying yes to. Yes to learning more. Yes to being uncomfortable. Yes to staying late to comfort someone who’s scared. Yes to showing up, even when it’s hard.

And as someone who still carries a camera in their bag, who still reads everything from neuroscience articles to short fiction, and who still finds card games deeply satisfying—I don’t feel like I’ve given anything up. Nursing lets me bring all of that with me. It’s not just a job. It’s a place where science, service, and storytelling all matter.

That’s why I chose nursing. And that’s why I’ll keep choosing it.