A dream come true and a tearful goodbye

Growing up, journalism was the dream. Not just a job. A dream.  At times, it felt unattainable. 

And then, on a random day in the summer of 2024, a few months after graduating from college, my life changed.

I had searched up newspapers in South Carolina and stumbled across the Lexington County Chronicle. I read a few stories, found Chronicle Editor Bryn’s email and sent a message asking if they were hiring. I pressed “send” and immediately prepared myself to be ignored.

Instead, I got a call.

An interview was scheduled, and I was so nervous I had to sit still and breathe before clicking “join meeting.” My hands were shaking. My heart was racing. 

But then we started talking. And somehow, it felt easy. Natural. It felt right.

That night, my mom and I went on our walk and prayed for the job. She could hear it in my voice how badly I wanted it. The dream that once felt unattainable was so close I could touch it.

A few days later, my phone rang again. I answered. I tried to sound calm and collected. I was not calm. I was not collected.

I was offered the job as a reporter.

I remember jumping up and down while talking to Vince, our publisher. When I hung up, I cried and called everybody.

Within weeks, I packed up my entire life and moved to a town I had never even heard of before. It was terrifying. It was lonely at first, and then it wasn’t.

On my first day on Sept. 17, 2024,  I sat in my car a few extra minutes, giving myself a pep talk. Then I walked inside, where I met Bryn, who showed me how to do the job.

From that day forward, something shifted in me. My days consisted of education meetings, council meetings, community events, profiles on residents, early mornings, late hours and meeting deadlines.

It never felt like just work, though. It felt like purpose.

Here’s something our readers don’t know: I have kept every single edition of the paper since I started. Every one. Stacked carefully in my coffee table cabinet. Sometimes I sit and flip through them, tracing my finger over my byline.

Seeing my name printed there still feels unreal.

That little girl who dreamed about being a journalist would absolutely sob if she saw it. Honestly, sometimes I still do.

Which is why writing this feels so heavy. 

My last day at the Chronicle is Tuesday, Feb. 24.

This decision has not been easy. I have wrestled with it quietly. I have questioned it. I have asked myself how you walk away from a dream you prayed for — a dream that asked you to move your whole life.

Lexington, once a place that felt unfamiliar and overwhelming, became home. It gave me mentors. It gave me friendships. It gave me stories that changed the way I see the world. It gave me confidence I didn’t know I had.

It gave me a second family.

To our small but mighty Chronicle team: thank you. Thank you for your patience, your humor and your belief in me. Thank you for challenging me and encouraging me. Thank you for taking a chance on me.

To our readers: you are the reason any of this matters.

Every time you picked up a paper, clicked on a story or answered your phone when I called, you trusted me. You invited me into your lives. You shared your triumphs and your heartbreaks. 

Local journalism exists because of you. You are the heart and soul of this county.

Now you may be wondering where I’m going. Great question! I won’t be going far. I’ll be joining the team at RADIUS Church in the communications department. I’ll still be writing, still telling stories, just in a different way.

So if you see me around town, probably walking my pup, Leo, please say hello. Leo would love some cuddles, and I would love to chat. I may not wear the press badge anymore, but I will always be a reporter at heart.

Thank you for letting me live out my dream.