A Sacred Pursuit: Becoming Dr. Ann Dillard

By Dr. Ann-Marie Dillard, LMFT, PsyD

There are moments in life when time, purpose, and divine alignment meet, and something extraordinary is born. For me, that moment arrived in November 2021, at the age of 53, when passion and purpose collided at a Brainspotting conference held in Denver, Colorado. A dear friend shared an announcement with me about a new doctoral program offered through the International University for Graduate Studies (IUGS), and something stirred within my spirit. A degree rooted in Brainspotting, the very modality that had transformed the way I supported clients in therapy, was now being offered in an academic format? That was no coincidence. It was a divine invitation.

At that point in my life, I was already a Licensed Marriage and Family Therapist, a certified Brainspotting practitioner, and a dedicated advocate for intergenerational healing among Black and Caribbean-American women. But something about this opportunity felt different. It wasn’t just about academic advancement. It was about becoming. I sensed that this journey would open new doors, both professionally and personally. It would prepare me for the unknown future, especially as I began to witness my husband’s declining health. In the event I needed to become the primary provider for my family, this doctorate would be both a shield and a sword.

But most of all, it was about healing. As a woman born in Jamaica, raised in a deeply rooted matriarchal culture, and shaped by both Caribbean and American values, I had spent years navigating the silent tensions that often mark Caribbean-American mother-daughter relationships. I saw it in my own story. I saw it in my clients. I saw it in community after community. Something in me whispered, “If we can heal the mother-daughter wound, we can heal generations.” That whisper became my dissertation.

The Personal Becomes Political, Clinical, and Sacred

I chose to focus my dissertation on Brainspotting as a methodology for improving attachment in the Caribbean-American mother-daughter relationship. It wasn’t just a topic. It was a soul assignment.

This research gave me permission to explore not only the trauma carried by my clients, but the unspoken pain and invisible loyalties that I carried in my own body. Growing up in a culture where strength often masquerades as silence, I witnessed the ways that certain behaviors, some deemed “normal” in Caribbean families, masked deeply rooted wounds. As I matured both as a woman and a clinician, I began to ask deeper questions. Why do some patterns repeat across generations? Why are some daughters unable to receive affection from their mothers? Why do so many mothers struggle to express vulnerability?

These weren’t academic questions for me. They were personal. My own relationship with my mother had been marked by strain, confusion, and longing. I wanted to understand her story, beyond the limitations of the words she could share with me. I needed to see her not only as my mother, but as a daughter herself, shaped by cultural, historical, and neurological forces that were never hers to choose.

The Unconventional Path

This doctoral journey was not a straight line. It was a winding path through uncharted territory. My university didn’t have a traditional library. There was no structured curriculum or academic cohort to lean on. It was 95 percent self-paced and 100 percent faith-driven.

During this season, I hosted eight mission trips. Yes, eight. I relocated across the country. My husband lost his job six weeks after our move. I lived in a state where I couldn’t legally practice therapy, so I relied entirely on my online private practice for income. And I made a sacred vow not to take on any new student debt for this degree. That meant reducing my caseload at times, tightening my budget, and trusting God daily.

More than once, I doubted if I’d finish. I took long breaks from writing. I missed self-imposed deadlines. I questioned the credibility of my institution because others did. I felt unsupported at times by those closest to me. But God kept sending divine reinforcements. One of the most powerful moments came during data analysis. I needed help with statistics, so I posted a simple request on Facebook. A young man responded, and as we spoke, he revealed that I had helped him years ago, when he was just a teenager trying to get into college. He said, “You believed in me when I needed it the most. You made an impact on me.” And now, years later, he was offering his expertise as a Senior Reliability Engineer at one of the country’s leading medical equipment companies, to help me cross the finish line. That’s legacy.

The Cost of the Calling

This journey took a toll on me, both intellectually and emotionally, as well as financially and relationally. Balancing academic rigor with clinical work and family life was no small feat. There were times I had to step away. Times when there was no balance. There were times when the weight of it all tested the fabric of my marriage. And yet, in the fire, I was refined.

I leaned heavily on my mentors and faithful friends, those who refused to let me quit, even when I wanted to disappear into the comfort of “good enough.” I remembered the voice of God whispering, “You have to get this done because where I’m taking you, the weight of not finishing this will be too heavy to carry.” That word anchored me. It gave me the strength to persist with precision.

Becoming “Dr. Ann Dillard”

Crossing the finish line didn’t feel like fireworks. It felt like sacred closure. It felt like God gently placing a crown on my head, not for status, but for service.

Being introduced as Dr. Ann Dillard still feels surreal. I say the words, but I also hear the echoes of my grandmother, who championed education with every fiber of her being. I think of my mother-in-love, now gone, who prayed over me. I carry their names in mine. I wear this title with Godly pride, not because I’m the first, but because I refuse to be the last.

This is for every Caribbean girl who was told to stay silent.

This is for every Black woman who doubted her brilliance.

This is for every mother and daughter trying to heal without a roadmap.

Healing Across Generations

My research delved deeply into the neuroscience of trauma, exploring corticolimbic circuitry, interoception, and subcortical healing. It taught me that trauma isn’t just remembered. It’s stored, in the body, the nervous system, and the very gaze of the eyes.

Brainspotting allowed me to explore how trauma can be accessed and released beyond talk, through presence. Through a dual attunement frame. Through the sacred stillness of focused mindfulness, guided by a practitioner who is not anxious or rushed.

I now move through the world with a deeper understanding of intergenerational trauma, cultural identity, and neurobiological healing. I’ve reconciled much of my own story, not perfectly, but powerfully. I understand now how the legacy of slavery still lives in my DNA, shaping how I view myself and others. I felt the weight of this truth as I stood at the Door of No Return in Senegal, and again on the shores of Discovery Bay in Jamaica. Healing isn’t linear, but it is possible.

Let This Work Live

My vision is for this research to transcend academic journals. I want it to live in the therapy room, the church sanctuary, the mother’s kitchen table. I want it to inform culturally sensitive interventions, shape new frameworks of attachment-based therapy, and give voice to the invisible loyalties that too many daughters carry in silence.

I want this work to be used internationally to influence healing in the Caribbean and beyond. I want Caribbean-American women who are rewriting the narrative of trauma to find tools, language, and validation in my words. This is more than a dissertation. It is a love letter to generations.

To the One Who’s Still Dreaming

To every woman, especially those who are Black, Caribbean, mature-aged, or mission-driven, who is wondering if she can go back to school and finish a doctorate:

Yes, you can.

But have your “why” ready.

Build a strong support system.

And make meaningful connections that will carry you when motivation fails.

You don’t have to do it all at once. But you do have to begin.

And if you’re still doubting yourself, let me tell you this from my heart:

“Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding.”

The world is waiting for your genius. Pursue it.

Final Word

Becoming Dr. Ann Dillard wasn’t just about earning a degree. It was about reclaiming my story, honoring my roots, and paving a path for those who come after me. It was a time and a season appointed by God. A sacred pursuit that transformed my title and my life.

And for that, I give God all the glory.