My name is Kelli Frederick, M.A., and I have lived with neurofibromatosis for my entire life. I have also undergone more than
50 facial surgeries.

When you live with a condition people can see, you learn very early that sometimes people will look at you before they listen to you. They may notice your face, your disability, the way you move, or what makes you different before they ever learn who you are.

But being different never made me less.

I learned to laugh. I learned to speak up. I didn’t choose neurofibromatosis, significant vision loss, tumors, neuropathy, tremors, chronic pain, or the surgeries that became part of my life.
But I did get to choose what I would do with the life I was given.

For more than 20 years, I have spent much of my professional life helping other people find their voices. I worked as a counselor and in higher education, advocated for students with disabilities, and became a public speaker, empowerment coach, and Founder and CEO of Empowerment Coaching Global LLC.

My work comes back to one belief: Every voice deserves to be heard.
Every person deserves to belong.

Now I am learning something much harder. Sometimes the person who spends her life helping other people find their voice has to use her own voice to say: I need help.

Today, my teeth have deteriorated to the point that I need permanent, fixed implant-supported dental reconstruction. This isn’t about a prettier smile. It is about eating, nutrition, speaking clearly, pain, dignity, and independence. Because I live with tremors and other disability-related limitations, removable dental appliances are not an appropriate solution for me.

When treatment, travel, and related expenses are considered, I am trying to raise approximately $80,000. There are moments when that number feels enormous.

I have survived more than 50 facial surgeries and navigated disability, vision loss, pain, professional transitions, and other people’s assumptions. Yet money can create a barrier that determination cannot simply push through.

We love stories about disabled people overcoming things. We call people resilient, strong, inspirational. But sometimes I wonder whether society has become so comfortable celebrating our resilience that it forgets to ask why we are required to be so resilient in the first place.

There are barriers positive thinking cannot remove and medical bills determination cannot pay. Sometimes independence means knowing when to ask another human being to stand beside you.

I am not sharing my story because I want anyone to feel sorry for me.
I am sharing it because somewhere there is another person living with a rare disease, disability, visible difference, or medical condition who believes asking for help means they have failed.

It doesn’t.

I am still an advocate, educator, wife, business owner, and a woman preparing for the next chapter of my education and life. I am also a woman who needs help right now. Those truths can exist together.

One phrase I live by is: “I pivot. I don’t quit.”

This is another pivot.

I want to eat without struggling, speak without worrying about my teeth, and smile without thinking about what someone else sees. Most importantly, I want to continue the work I believe I am here to do.

I want others to know something I have spent a lifetime learning: You are enough. Not when your body cooperates. Not after another degree, title, surgery, or proof of your worth. Right now.

I am asking people to stand with me as I work toward the medically necessary fixed dental reconstruction I need. I have created a fundraiser to help cover treatment, travel, and related expenses, and I welcome connections with oral surgeons, dental implant professionals, healthcare organizations, companies, and others who may be able to help.

But my story does not end with a dental procedure.

There is more work for me to do. More people to advocate for. More rooms to enter. More conversations to start. More laughter. More life.

After more than 50 surgeries and everything that has come with them, I am still here.

I am still becoming.

And I am not finished.