In three years, I hope to be living a life that feels fully mine—full of creativity, love, and growth. I imagine running my own photography business, freelancing and capturing the world through my lens. One dream is to visit Scotland and photograph its breathtaking landscapes—rolling hills, ancient castles, and misty lochs. I’d love to explore Dumfries and Galloway, the place that inspired Sam Heughan to become the actor he is today. It would be amazing to see the surroundings that shaped someone I admire so much.
I also imagine having an online travel magazine, which, alongside my photography business, would focus on causes I care about. I’d start with conservation projects—protecting Scotland’s wild cats and America’s wild mustangs—using my work to raise awareness and inspire others to care about the natural world.
I hope to meet a man who truly sees me—a partner who connects deeply and intimately. Someone who values honesty, closeness, and love, and who dreams of building a life together.
On a personal level, I hope to form habits that nourish my body and mind. I want to eat healthier, lose weight in a sustainable way, and eventually start a family. I imagine a life where health, happiness, creativity, and love coexist, and where each day brings a sense of purpose and connection.
In three years, I want to feel proud of the life I’ve created—a life that reflects who I am and who I’m becoming. And as I chase these dreams, knowing that someone like Sam Heughan has been inspired by the same places and culture I hope to explore makes it feel even more possible.
Once upon a time, in a vibrant garden where colors danced in the sunlight, there bloomed a rose unlike any other. This rose, with petals that shimmered in hues of orange and gold, held a secret deep within its heart—a tiny, enchanted frog named Liora.
Liora had lived in the rose for as long as she could remember, protected by the soft petals that surrounded her. She was no ordinary frog; she was a guardian of dreams, tasked with watching over the hopes and wishes of those who wandered into the garden. Each night, as the stars twinkled above, Liora would listen to the whispers of dreams carried by the gentle breeze.
One day, a young girl named Elara stumbled upon the garden. Drawn by the intoxicating fragrance of the magical rose, she approached, her heart heavy with unfulfilled dreams. She had always longed to be an artist, but fear held her back. As she gazed at the rose, Liora felt a spark of connection. The girl’s dreams resonated with the magic of the garden.
With a flick of her tiny tongue, Liora cast a spell of inspiration. The rose began to glow, and the air filled with sparkling lights that danced around Elara. She felt a rush of creativity and courage, as if the garden itself was urging her to embrace her passion.
Elara closed her eyes, and in that moment, she envisioned herself painting vibrant landscapes, capturing the beauty of the world around her. The rose shimmered brighter, and Liora knew that the girl’s dreams were taking flight.
When Elara opened her eyes, she felt transformed. The weight of doubt had lifted, replaced by a newfound determination. She thanked the rose, unaware of the tiny guardian within, and promised to return to the garden, to share her art and the magic it held.
As days turned into weeks, Elara visited the garden often, each time bringing her sketches and paintings. Liora watched with joy as the girl blossomed into the artist she was meant to be. The rose, once a mere flower, became a symbol of hope and inspiration for all who entered the garden.
And so, the enchanted rose and its tiny guardian continued to weave dreams into reality, reminding everyone that within the heart of a flower lies the power to inspire and create magic.
Some moments in life feel destined, as if the universe has been weaving their threads long before we notice. For me, the dream of meeting Sam Heughan isn’t just a fleeting hope—it’s the ultimate gift, one that would mean more to me than anything in this vast cosmos. Yet, alongside this dream comes a quiet worry: if our paths ever crossed, I’d be so afraid of saying the wrong thing, of stumbling over words that might not capture the depth of my admiration. This fear isn’t unique to Sam—it’s a constant concern, especially online, where I connect with others and words can so easily be misunderstood. But life is unpredictable, and you never know where its winding roads might lead, bringing souls together in unexpected ways. To meet Sam, despite these worries and the limitations of his public life, would be a chance to be ourselves, to share reflections on life, and to connect through stories—especially his tales of growing up in Scotland.
To me, Sam is far more than an actor or a public figure. His humanity is a rare and precious gift, a beacon of kindness and authenticity that shines in a world often dimmed by pretense. It’s not something to be taken for granted or reduced to eye candy—it’s a quality so unique, so special, that it demands to be cherished. His warmth, his quiet strength, and his genuine care for others make him someone whose presence feels like a treasure. I long for a moment where we could simply be ourselves, free from the pressures of fame or my own anxieties about saying the right thing. I want to hear his point of view, his reflections on life, and his stories of growing up in the rugged beauty of Scotland, knowing they’d resonate with my love for meaningful connection.
This dream isn’t about autographs or fleeting fan encounters. It’s about the joy of sharing a conversation, of hearing how the misty hills of Galloway or the historic streets of Edinburgh shaped him. I’ve always wanted to visit Scotland, drawn to its breathtaking landscapes and rich history—the ancient castles, the timeless folklore, the vibrant culture that holds centuries of stories in every stone. Sam’s roots in that land make him the perfect person to bring its magic to life through his own experiences. I imagine us talking about the wild beauty of the Highlands, the lessons he learned as a boy, and the moments that made him who he is. In return, I’d share my own thoughts, my dreams of exploring Scotland’s storied past, and my hope to connect without fear of misspeaking. Life’s unpredictability makes such a meeting feel possible, even if distant, a reminder that paths can cross when least expected.
Sam’s humanity means more to me because it’s so distinctly his own. It’s not just kindness—it’s a deliberate choice to live with grace, to uplift others, and to stay grounded despite the spotlight. His dedication to causes like fitness and charity, his quiet protection of his privacy, and his ability to share his heart without losing himself all speak to a character that’s singular and irreplaceable. Meeting him would be a chance to express my gratitude for how his example has inspired me to live more authentically, to seek connection over isolation, and to never take a genuine soul for granted. It would be a moment to honor his spirit, not as something superficial, but as a profound force that shapes how I see the world.
I picture our meeting as something simple yet profound—a quiet moment, perhaps over a warm coffee or a dram of his Sassenach Whisky, where we could talk about life’s joys and challenges. I’d ask about his childhood in Scotland, the adventures that shaped him, and the history he’s witnessed in a land so rich with tradition. I’d share my own reflections, my longing to walk Scotland’s moors, and my hope to speak from the heart without fear of saying the wrong thing. It would be a conversation rooted in mutual respect, where we could enjoy each other’s perspectives, free from the constraints of fame or my own worries about words. Even online, where I connect with others and often fret about missteps, I’d want this moment to feel real, unfiltered, and true.
Meeting Sam would be the greatest gift in the universe because it would celebrate a humanity that’s truly special—a reminder that some souls shine so brightly, they inspire us to be our best selves. Despite the limitations of distance, schedules, or the complexities of his public life, I wish for a moment where we could simply be, sharing stories and reflections that bridge our worlds. My worry about saying the wrong thing, whether in person or online, would fade in the warmth of his kindness, replaced by the joy of connection. His tales of Scotland would bring me closer to a place I’ve always dreamed of, while his unique spirit would remind me to cherish the rare moments that make life extraordinary. Life’s unpredictability gives me hope that such a meeting could happen, that our paths might cross in some serendipitous way.
To meet Sam Heughan would be to say, “Thank you for being you,” and to carry that moment in my heart forever, a testament to the power of a soul that’s one of a kind. It would be a gift beyond measure, not just for the connection, but for the chance to overcome my fears, to embrace the unknown, and to celebrate the beauty of two souls meeting, wherever life may lead.
What are the most important things needed to live a good life?
What does a good life look like for me? It’s like framing the perfect shot with my camera—catching the light just right, finding the angle that feels honest. It’s not about money or fame, but about living in a way that lets my heart sing, like I’m twirling under a Highland sky or laughing with someone who feels like home.
First, I need relationships where I can be my true self, no filters needed. Like those late-night talks with a friend, sharing cheesy love songs or a 2 a.m. snack, where I don’t worry about being “too much.” Those moments, where I can ramble about my autistic way of seeing the world—like how light dances on water—or dive into a story without feeling judged, are my lifeline. They’re the warmth that holds me together, and I want to fill my life with people who see the real me.
Then there’s my empathy, this quiet gift I’ve always had. As a kid, I’d hug strangers because I could feel their sadness; now, it’s how I connect with horses, their steady presence making me feel safe. A good life means embracing that instinct—listening deeply, offering comfort, building bridges. It’s not just about others; it’s about how alive I feel when I’m there for someone.
Creativity is my heartbeat. Photography lets me tell stories, freezing moments of light and emotion like a scene from Outlander. A good life has room for that—wandering with my camera, chasing golden hour, making something that’s mine. Even with my cybersecurity work, I need these moments, because they’re when I’m most myself.
Freedom to be me is everything. Masking to fit in is exhausting, like dimming a flame. A good life means finding spaces—friends, work, or just solo time—where my autistic self is enough. Where I can geek out about light patterns or romantic tales without feeling “weird.” That freedom is where I thrive.
I also want experiences that spark joy, not just things. A spontaneous adventure—like dancing in the rain or stargazing with someone special—beats any fancy gadget. Those heart-racing, rom-com-worthy moments are what I’ll carry forever. I want a life woven with them, whether it’s a far-off trip or a quiet laugh shared over coffee.
Balance is tough but crucial. My cybersecurity degree pays the bills, but my soul lives in photography and storytelling. A good life blends both—using my skills to support my dreams without letting them drown out what I love. It’s about small steps toward a life where I’m not just getting by but truly creating.
Finally, nature keeps me grounded. Horses, open fields, the hush of a forest—it’s where my intuition wakes up. A good life includes time there, whether I’m riding, walking, or just sitting somewhere green, feeling the earth’s pulse.
To build this life, I’ll start now: plan a photography day this month, have a heart-to-heart with a friend, and try one new way to be unapologetically me, like sharing a quirky idea at work. A good life grows from these moments, and I’m ready to nurture them.
My newest creation.my rabbit photo and AI background I made to go with it.
I’m filled with excitement as I imagine a future where I can weave together my passion for cybersecurity, photography, and visual storytelling. Becoming a Cybersecurity Content Creator or Technical Writer feels like a perfect fit—it lets me merge my deep knowledge of cybersecurity with my love for crafting compelling narratives. As an autistic woman, I see the world through a unique lens, noticing intricate details and patterns that others might overlook. This perspective fuels my desire to create content that’s not only informative but also deeply human, making complex topics like phishing or encryption relatable through stories about everyday people, like a small business owner dodging a scam or a parent securing their online accounts.
At the same time, pursuing my passion for photography and graphic design through visual storytelling opens up another creative avenue. I envision producing blog posts, tutorials, or infographics that blend technical cybersecurity insights with striking visuals, using tools like Canva to design explainers that simplify concepts like two-factor authentication. My photography can capture the beauty of everyday moments—light on a building, a kind gesture—that I can weave into my cybersecurity narratives, making them visually and emotionally engaging. I dream of creating a series called “The Cybersecurity Storyboard,” where short animations or infographics tell relatable stories about online threats, like a character outsmarting a phishing scam, brought to life with vibrant, narrative-driven visuals.
The flexibility of freelancing or working independently is a huge draw, aligning with my need for a calm, self-directed environment. Starting small feels achievable—I can write a blog post, create a short video, or design a visual for my portfolio, sharing them on platforms like Medium, X, or Instagram to build my presence. Platforms like Upwork can help me land freelance gigs to gain experience. I know challenges like impostor syndrome or balancing technical accuracy with creativity might arise, but I’m ready to lean into my unique voice and use trusted sources to ensure precision.
This path feels like a way to make a real impact—empowering people to stay safe online while letting my creativity shine through storytelling, photography, and graphic design. I’m thrilled to take the first step, trusting that my perspective as an autistic woman will help me create something truly special in both cybersecurity and visual storytelling.
From the time I was a young kid, the weather has held me spellbound, a wild and awe-inspiring force that both captivates and humbles me. I can still recall the thrill of working on a middle school report about tornadoes, diving deep into their chaotic beauty and untamed power. My teacher raised an eyebrow, suggesting to my dad that I should’ve done it alone, but the truth is, I poured my heart into that project—my dad just helped me polish my ideas. That experience wasn’t just a school assignment; it lit a fire in me, sparking a lifelong reverence for Mother Nature, one of my greatest inspirations, a boundless muse whose storms, serenity, and raw beauty fuel my creativity and remind me of the deep, healing connection we share with the world around us.
When I first picked up a camera, my passion for nature found a new outlet. I dreamed of chasing storms, not just to capture their swirling formations but to preserve fleeting moments of nature’s raw, unfiltered spirit. Storms have a haunting duality—they can devastate, leaving heartbreak in their wake, yet their towering clouds and electric energy are undeniably beautiful. Through my lens, I see tornadoes as a reminder of how much we take for granted, urging us to pause and respect the forces that shape our world. Mother Nature doesn’t bow to our plans; she demands our attention, teaching us resilience and humility through her breathtaking artistry.
Beyond storms, nature in all its forms has always been my refuge. To me, nature is the greatest medicine a human being could ever have. Whether it’s the roar of thunder, the gentle rustle of leaves, or the quiet calm of a forest after rain, being immersed in the natural world feels like a reset for the soul. It heals, it grounds, it reminds me who I am. The nature of humanity and the natural world are intertwined in countless ways—through the air we breathe, the landscapes that shape our stories, and the moments of wonder that bind us to something greater. Every time I’m out there, camera in hand, I feel that connection, like I’m part of a larger story written by the earth itself.
Photography, for me, is more than a craft; it’s a way to tell stories that stir the heart, to capture the fleeting beauty of the world and share it with others. Inspired by those who live with purpose and authenticity, I want my work to reflect that same depth, to show the fierce elegance of a storm or the quiet grace of a sunrise. Mother Nature, as one of my muses, guides me to create with intention, to stay rooted in what’s real, and to honor the world’s beauty and power. Her lessons go beyond her storms—they’re in the way she calls us to live more fully, to respect her boundaries, and to find healing and meaning in every moment, no matter how fleeting.
Well, let’s take a look at my work experience so far. My only job has been in retail. I started as a custodial associate at Fry’s. After that, I worked as a courtesy clerk and cashier at Safeway. Then, I became a kids’ toy, lawn, and garden associate at Walmart, and I’m currently working in that role. It’s definitely a physically demanding job, and that’s why I want to find something I enjoy, like visual storytelling, to make a living from.
I enjoy spending my free time gardening, taking photographs, hiking, and engaging in other activities. However, I sometimes feel that the places we work for expect us to live there half the time, leaving less time for our families and self-care.
I want to pursue a career as a Visual Storyteller because it’s the perfect intersection of my passions for photography, graphic design, and blogging—a path that lets me capture the world’s beauty, create with purpose, and connect with others in a way that feels deeply authentic. This career isn’t just a job; it’s a calling to weave together visuals and words to inspire, uplift, and build a community grounded in kindness and creativity. It’s about seeing the world through a lens of wonder and sharing that vision to make others feel something real.
Photography, to me, is like capturing a heartbeat. Whether it’s the delicate shimmer of a tiny frog nestled in a rose, the fleeting glow of a sunset over a quiet valley, or the unguarded smile of someone lost in a moment, photography lets me freeze time and hold onto what makes life extraordinary. It’s not just about technical skill—though I love mastering my camera and editing tools like Lightroom—it’s about noticing the small, fleeting details that others might overlook. As a Visual Storyteller, I want my photographs to evoke emotion, to remind people of the beauty in the everyday, and to spark a sense of connection to the world around them.
Graphic design is where my imagination takes flight. It’s the thrill of transforming an idea into a visual that pops—a logo that captures a brand’s soul, a social media post that stops someone mid-scroll, or a poster that tells a story at a glance. I’m drawn to the challenge of blending colors, typography, and textures in tools like Adobe Illustrator or Canva to create something that’s both beautiful and meaningful. It’s hard work, requiring precision and endless tweaking, but that process feels like a puzzle I was born to solve. As a Visual Storyteller, design is my way of giving ideas a voice, making the intangible feel vivid and alive.
Blogging is the thread that ties my creativity together, letting me share my heart and mind with the world. It’s where I can write about the story behind a photoshoot, the inspiration for a design, or a moment in nature that left me in awe—like the way a single leaf can hold a universe of patterns. Blogging isn’t just about words; it’s about building a space where people feel seen and inspired. I want to share tips, stories, and reflections that resonate with others who crave authenticity, whether they’re creatives, dreamers, or just people who love beauty as much as I do. As a Visual Storyteller, my blog will be a canvas for connection, a place to foster a community that values kindness, creativity, and the courage to chase what sets your soul on fire.
This career speaks to me because it demands both heart and hustle, qualities I admire in myself and others. It’s not about chasing glamour—it’s about the grit of learning new editing techniques at midnight, the patience of revising a design until it’s just right, or the vulnerability of sharing a personal story on my blog. I’m inspired by people like Sam Heughan, who pour authenticity and hard work into their craft, and I want to bring that same dedication to my work. As a Visual Storyteller, I see a future where my photos, designs, and words create a ripple effect—encouraging others to notice the beauty around them, to create with intention, and to connect with kindness.
Ultimately, I want to build a career that’s a reflection of who I am: someone who finds joy in the small moments, who believes in the power of creativity to uplift, and who wants to leave the world a little brighter. As a Visual Storyteller, I’ll weave together photography, graphic design, and blogging to tell stories that matter—to me, to my audience, and to the world.
I wanted to share a bit about how I experience emotions because it shapes who I am. My happiness is often found in the quiet, unnoticed moments – it’s not just about laughter but about cherishing the beauty in simplicity. When I feel sadness, it’s not merely sorrow; it’s a reflective state that deepens my empathy and connection with others. Anger for me is rare, but when it arises, it’s a passionate response to injustice or the need for change.
My emotions are layered, each adding depth to my interactions, making me a compassionate listener and a thoughtful friend. This emotional nuance is a core part of my identity. #EmotionalIntelligence #SelfReflection #Understanding