My mom has Down Syndrome — and she raised me to become a doctor.

When I was born, many people doubted her. They said raising a child alone would be too difficult. They questioned her ability before they ever saw her strength.

But what they didn’t see was the determination in her heart.

They didn’t see the early mornings she got me ready for school.
The late nights she stayed up helping me study.

The way she showed up to every parent-teacher meeting with pride shining in her eyes.

She may not have had all the advantages others did — but she gave me something far more powerful: unconditional love, resilience, and belief.

When school felt overwhelming, she reminded me I was capable.
When life felt unfair, she taught me kindness.
When I doubted myself, she never did.

Every milestone I reached, she celebrated like it was her own. And in many ways, it was.

The day I became a doctor, I didn’t just see my name on that diploma — I saw hers written all over it.

Because strength isn’t defined by what the world expects of you.
It’s defined by how fiercely you love and how hard you fight for your child.

She wasn’t just my mom.
She was my foundation.

And everything I am today began with her believing I could be more.