In Her Own Words

The cases that stay with me are the ones where a family came in overwhelmed and left with some sense of resolution, not just legally, but emotionally. There is a moment in some cases where a client finally exhales, and you realize they have been carrying the weight of uncertainty for months or years. Being part of that shift, helping someone move from fear to clarity, is genuinely the most rewarding part of this work. It never gets routine.

The honest answer is that I still love the courtroom. Trial is where everything comes together. All the late nights reviewing records, the depositions, the motions, the preparation that most people never see, it all builds toward those moments when you finally get to stand up and make the argument. To look a jury in the eye and say: here is what happened to my client, here is why it matters, and here is what justice looks like in this case. That opportunity never gets old.

There is something deeply meaningful about being the person who stands between your client and a powerful opponent and says, simply: not without a fight. Advocacy at its most direct. I think that is why I became a litigator in the first place, and it is still what drives me.

But I want to be clear about something, because I think it matters: my love of the courtroom has never been my client’s obligation to fund it. Trial is a tool, a powerful one, but it is not the goal. The goal has always been the best possible outcome for the person sitting across the desk from me. Sometimes that means a hard-fought verdict. More often than I might like to admit, it means a negotiated resolution that gets my client what they need without the uncertainty, the cost, and the emotional toll that trial demands. That calculus is never about what I want. It is always about them.

So what keeps me here after all these years? It is the work itself, the preparation, the strategy, the storytelling, the advocacy. And it is the clients, who trusted me with something that mattered deeply to them. The courtroom is where I feel most like the lawyer I set out to be. But serving my client well is what makes it worth showing up.

I believe preparation is one of the most important skills in litigation, but I don’t think it’s underrated. Lawyers, judges, and clients alike understand how critical preparation is, and it’s something our profession talks about constantly.

What I do think is underrated is judgment.

Judgment is knowing what actually matters in a case and having the discipline to let go of everything that does not. A lot of attorneys are good at making arguments. Far fewer are good at prioritizing, deciding which arguments advance the case and which ones just create noise.

It’s also about knowing when to stay the course and when to pivot. Litigation is dynamic. Facts evolve, judges signal preferences, juries react in real time. The best litigators can read a room, read a jury, and make clear-headed decisions under pressure.

That kind of judgment comes with experience, but it doesn’t develop on its own. You have to be intentional about refining it.

The first thing I would tell a younger lawyer is deceptively simple: master the basics. Before you worry about your presence in the courtroom, learn how to write clearly, how to listen carefully, how to prepare more thoroughly than you think you need to. The fundamentals are not a stepping stone to the real work, they are the real work. Everything else you develop over a career is built on top of them.

Find a mentor. Find someone you can call when you hit a wall, when a case goes sideways, or when you just need to hear that what you are feeling is normal. This career can be isolating in ways that are hard to explain to people outside of it, and having someone a few steps ahead of you who has navigated similar terrain is invaluable. Do not be too proud to ask for that guidance.

And on that note, find your people. Build a support system, both inside and outside the profession. Being a lawyer is meaningful, but it is also relentless. Your clients come to you at the worst moments of their lives, carrying real pain, real loss, real fear. That is a privilege and a weight at the same time. If you try to carry it alone, it will catch up with you. The lawyers who last in this work, who stay sharp and stay human, are almost always the ones who figured out early that they needed a community around them.

Perhaps the most important advice I can offer is this: find your own voice, and then have the confidence to use it. You will watch other lawyers and you will be tempted to imitate what seems to work for them. There is nothing wrong with learning from people you admire, you should, but borrowing technique is very different from losing yourself. Not every great advocate is loud. Not every great trial lawyer commands a room the same way. Some of the most effective lawyers I have ever seen work quietly, methodically, with a kind of steady precision that juries find completely disarming. There is no single template for this.

Authenticity is not a soft skill. It is one of the most powerful things you can bring into a courtroom. Know who you are. Develop that. And protect it.

Honestly, people talk a lot about “work-life balance,” but I don’t think that really exists in a serious litigation practice. The idea suggests some perfect equilibrium, and that has not been my experience. What I think it really comes down to is choices, constant, ongoing choices about where your time and energy go.

You cannot be everywhere for everyone while working full time as a litigator. There will be late nights and early mornings. There are times when your house is messy, and your contribution to the class potluck is napkins because that’s what you could get delivered. That’s just the reality of the work, and at the same time, I love my family deeply and value the life we have outside of work.

What has helped me sustain this career over more than 20 years, while being married and raising two young children, is trying to be intentional. When I am at work, I am fully at work. When I am with my family, I try to actually be present. I have had to get better over time at setting boundaries, but I admittedly still struggle with this.

I think it is important to find purpose in the things you do, particularly at work. The people who stay in this field long term are not just chasing outcomes. They find meaning in the work itself, and they invest in the relationships and parts of life that refuel them. For me, that intentionality and sense of purpose are what make it sustainable.

For me, that starts with my family, being with them and truly being present. Being present does not have to mean doing anything big or elaborate. A lot of the time it is just pancakes together on a Saturday morning, a bike ride, or watching a movie marathon for a day (thank you Phoenix summers, it’s hot outside). Those moments are simple, but they matter. Being there, really there, not half-working or distracted, helps reset me in a way that makes me better when I come back to the job.

I also think it is important to have your own downtime. That can be scrolling on your phone, reading a book, exercising, or whatever you need to decompress. The key is the same: be in the moment with it. If you are resting, actually rest. If you are with your family, be with your family.

Litigation demands a lot of focus and energy. The way I sustain that is by making sure that when I step away, I am intentional about how I spend that time.