You Do Not Have to Fit a Mold to Lead

Monica Barfield, DNP, APRN, AGACNP-BC, FNP-BC

Author’s Note: Portions of this commentary were included in a speech presented at the University of Florida in April 2026.

You do not have to have a perfect journey to have a powerful one.

I was born to teenage parents whose marriage did not last. When I was very young, my sister and I were removed from my father’s custody after my mother accused him of physically abusing my sister. My sister and I never believed those accusations were true, but as children, we had no voice in the decisions that were made for us. Although my father never regained custody, he remained an important part of my life. He continued to pay child support, maintained his legal rights as my father, and worked offshore two weeks at a time on seismograph crews. Whenever he was home, he spent every opportunity he could with me. I loved my daddy dearly.

When I was seven years old, during a weekend with my mother, my six-year-old sister was killed in a motorcycle crash while riding with my stepfather. After the investigation that followed, I entered the foster care system. At twelve, during a Saturday visitation with my mother, I survived sexual abuse by that same stepfather. Following that abuse, my biological mother relinquished her parental rights, and I finished growing up in Alabama, far from everything I had known.

At nineteen, while I was in nursing school and working in the emergency department, I received the call that my father had been shot. By the time I reached the University of Mississippi Medical Center, he was on life support. As a teenager, I had to make the decision to withdraw life support and authorize organ donation.

That same year, I also lost both of my grandmothers. The grief of losing my father, my grandmothers, and the lingering pain of losing my sister convinced me that everyone I loved would eventually be taken from me. I slipped into a deep depression that placed tremendous strain on my first marriage and ultimately led to our divorce. Although our marriage ended, we remained committed to raising our two children together and continue to share a positive relationship today. Even through that pain, those experiences gave me a deeper sense of purpose and compassion that would shape the nurse I would become.

Years later, my half-brother found me. Although we had never really known each other growing up, he welcomed me into his life. The man who had raised my brother as his own welcomed me and my two children as family. For the first time, I experienced the kind of acceptance and belonging I had longed for.

During my first marriage, my mother-in-law and sister-in-law, both nurses, encouraged me to pursue nursing school. My sister-in-law was the first nurse I ever knew who had earned a master’s degree, and she inspired me to believe that I could do the same. Their encouragement planted a seed that would shape the rest of my career.

Years later, after moving to be closer to my brother, I began dating my husband, Chris. For the first time in my life, I truly experienced unconditional support. He believed in me through every challenge and encouraged me to pursue dreams that often felt impossible.

Graduate school was not easy. While working toward my doctorate, I was also opening what would become the first autonomous nurse practitioner-owned primary care practice in the state of Florida. At the same time, my biological mother unexpectedly came back into my life gravely ill. I chose to care for her through her many health challenges while balancing school, work, and family. There were moments when it felt like everything was pulling me in different directions.

During that season, one of my professors, Dr. Rene Love, showed me what it truly means to be a nurse, not just through clinical excellence, but through compassion. She gave me the grace to slow down, take one class at a time, and be fully present for my mother when she needed me most. Before I graduated, my mother passed away. When I walked across the stage at commencement, it was Dr. Love who stood beside me and hooded me. It was a moment I will never forget, one filled with grief, but also with pride, resilience, and purpose.

Since earning my Doctor of Nursing Practice degree, that foundation has shaped everything I have done. It gave me the confidence to build and lead my own practice, the courage to step into legislative advocacy, and perhaps most importantly, the confidence to find my voice. You see, I speak with a Southern accent. For many years, I was embarrassed by what I call my “cornbread accent.” I believed I had to sound different to be taken seriously. Over time, I learned that authenticity is far more powerful than perfection. Your voice, exactly as it is, is your power.

Today, I use that same voice to advocate at the Florida Capitol, speak on behalf of patients, and fight for nurse practitioners to practice to the full extent of their education and training. I stand as proof that you do not have to fit a mold to lead. You simply have to be willing to step into who you are.

Nursing is a profession that is both demanding and deeply meaningful. There will be long days, difficult moments, and times when you question yourself. But there will also be moments that remind you exactly why you chose this path, moments when you make a difference, moments when you change a life, and moments when you realize you are exactly where you are meant to be.

Monica Barfield, DNP, APRN, AGACNP-BC, FNP-BC, is the owner of New Horizon Primary Care in Port St. Joe, Florida.