One ride. One child. A lifetime changed.

She was just a young girl, but she carried with her all the purpose I’d poured into those training rides, those fundraising requests, those long hot days on the bike. Meeting her was like watching all my effort take its first breath. It was real. It was human. And it was deeply personal. She grabbed my hand and proudly showed me where she lived, and exactly where my fundraising was going.

I stayed in touch with Aom. I sponsored her, followed her journey, and watched her grow into a talented graphic designer. I don’t get to see her as often as I’d like now, but she changed me and I carry her story with me everywhere I go.

That one ride… it altered the course of my life.

Not long after, something else shifted. Peter and I, who had become close friends through Hands, became something more. Two years after that first ride, we were a couple. Three years later, we were married. By then, Hands wasn’t just a cause I supported — it had become my family. My identity. My future.

I had spent years in the corporate world, but somewhere along the way, it stopped aligning with who I was becoming. Hands opened a new door — one that led to a life of purpose. What started as volunteering at events grew into a full-time commitment. First as General Manager, then CEO overseeing five entities across three countries. It’s a role that has stretched me, shaped me, and grounded me in ways I never expected.

But more than a job, Hands gave me a sense of belonging.

It gave me a community, a reason to show up every day, and a deep connection to a group of children who, without even knowing it, filled a space in my heart I didn’t think could be filled, especially after not being able to have children of my own.

I’ve held babies who were born far too early, like Tong Kla, and watched them grow into fierce, unstoppable little warriors.

I’ve watched young women like Am grow up in our homes, and now stand proudly beside us in her work with Hands Experiences Thailand.

I’ve seen our kids overcome trauma, poverty, and loss — and still show up with courage and a smile that can undo you in a heartbeat.

These aren’t just stories. These are my people. My kids. My why. When they’re hurting, I feel it. And when they rise, I rise with them. I will always find a way to raise funds, open doors, and fight for a brighter future — because I owe them more than I can say.