Meet Juanita Montelongo

We were lucky to catch up with Juanita Montelongo recently and have shared our conversation below.

Juanita , so good to have you with us today. We’ve always been impressed with folks who have a very clear sense of purpose and so maybe we can jump right in and talk about how you found your purpose?

Since I can remember, I’ve carried a deep sense of responsibility. Being the eldest sibling shaped that from the very beginning. I was eight years old when my youngest sister was born, and I naturally stepped into a caregiving role—not just as a helper, but as a kind of second mom. I remember the weight of a diaper bag slung over one shoulder, baby bottles clinking inside, the smell of formula, and the rhythm of lullabies I hummed while rocking my sisters to sleep. Back then, I truly believed my purpose was to take care of others. It wasn’t something I questioned—it was simply who I was.

As I grew up, that instinct to nurture and protect transformed into something more ambitious. I wanted to be a doctor. I was drawn to the challenge of it—the puzzle-like nature of diagnosing a condition, piecing together clues, and ultimately, helping someone feel better. I loved the idea of combining knowledge with compassion to make a real difference in someone’s life. By the time I reached my twenties, I thought I had everything mapped out: I would pursue a professional path in healthcare while continuing to be the pillar for my family. That balance brought me joy. It gave me a clear sense of identity, of purpose. Or so I thought.

Then, everything shifted. At the end of 2024, I found myself unexpectedly without a job and living over a thousand miles away from the people who had always grounded me—my family. For the first time in my life, I was completely untethered from the roles I had always relied on to define myself. I felt disoriented, almost like a character in a story who’d lost the plot. I began to ask questions I had never paused to consider: Should I move back home? Was healthcare still my path? And most importantly—who was I, really, without a role to play?

It was in that stillness and discomfort that something profound happened. Stripped of titles, responsibilities, and external expectations, I began to meet myself for the first time. I realized that my deepest purpose wasn’t tied to a job title or a caregiving role. It was something much more personal, much more intrinsic. My purpose was simply to be myself—fully, unapologetically, and with intention. To allow my personality, my voice, and my story to exist out loud.

I’ve come to understand that my passions, my quirks, my ability to connect deeply with others—those are not just traits, they are tools. They are how I bring meaning to the world around me. My purpose isn’t what I do—it’s how I live, how I show up, and how I make others feel seen and understood.

And I know now that what I do for a living may change a hundred times over. But who I am—that’s the constant. That’s the foundation. And that realization has not only reshaped the way I see myself, but also how I move through the world—with more grace, more curiosity, and more confidence in simply being me.”

Thanks, so before we move on maybe you can share a bit more about yourself?

Professionally, I’m a registered dietitian and a certified diabetes educator. What excites me most about this career is the incredible opportunity it gives me to equip people with the tools they need to take ownership of their health. These tools—when understood and applied—can be truly life-changing. For over ten years, I’ve dedicated myself to educating patients and their families on how nutrition isn’t just about food—it’s about empowerment, prevention, and healing.

Most of my professional journey has been focused on working with the pediatric population, and it’s been one of the most rewarding aspects of my career. There’s something incredibly powerful about helping children and their families navigate the early stages of life with the right nutritional support. One experience that has stayed with me vividly involved a baby born with a cleft palate. She came into the world significantly underweight, and from the beginning, struggled to tolerate traditional baby formulas. Feeding was a daily challenge, and her growth was stalled. That’s when her care team referred her to see a dietitian—me.

I remember meeting her and her mother for the first time. Her mom was exhausted and worried, holding this tiny baby who had already faced so many hurdles. Together, we worked closely over the course of a year—trying different formulas, adjusting feeding schedules, observing every small reaction, and finding ways to help her tolerate what she needed. It wasn’t easy, but it was deeply collaborative. And then, slowly, the progress began. Week by week, she started gaining weight. Month by month, she began hitting her developmental milestones. By the end of that year, she was thriving—not just physically, but neurologically, socially, and emotionally.

That experience reaffirmed something profound for me: nutrition during early life is foundational. It’s not just about growth charts—it’s about brain development, long-term health, and the overall trajectory of a child’s life. Being able to play a role in that—to witness the transformation and know that I had a hand in it—is something I’ll never take for granted.

This is why I do what I do. My work isn’t just clinical—it’s human. It’s rooted in trust, in education, and in building relationships that support lasting health. And there’s nothing I would trade for the privilege of doing this work every day.

Most recently, I’ve started a podcast project that’s very close to my heart—it’s called ‘Hello America, It’s Your Neighbor.’ The goal is simple, yet powerful: to highlight the diverse and deeply human experiences of immigrants living in the United States.

In today’s political climate, where immigration is so often criminalized or reduced to a single narrative, I wanted to create a space that gives voice to real stories—ones filled with nuance, culture, and connection. Each episode focuses on one person’s journey: how they made the decision to come to the U.S., the challenges they faced, the victories they’ve celebrated, and the richness of their heritage.

One of my favorite parts of the podcast is that every guest also shares a recipe for their favorite meal. Before we record the interview, I cook that dish for them, and we sit down to eat together. It creates a beautiful moment of connection and vulnerability—sharing a meal often feels like sharing a piece of home.

What started as a passion project has become incredibly enriching for me personally. Every single story is unique, but they all echo themes of courage, resilience, and transformation. The people I’ve met have expanded my understanding of the world, and reminded me of the strength and beauty found in diversity.

Right now, I’m in the process of editing and assembling the episodes, and I’m so excited to share them with the world. I’d love for you to check it out once it’s live—again, it’s called ‘Hello America, It’s Your Neighbor.”

There is so much advice out there about all the different skills and qualities folks need to develop in order to succeed in today’s highly competitive environment and often it can feel overwhelming. So, if we had to break it down to just the three that matter most, which three skills or qualities would you focus on?

If I had to choose three skills that have profoundly impacted both my professional and creative journey, they would be: the ability to sit patiently in discomfort, the power of collaboration, and a strong sense of curiosity.

First, sitting in discomfort.
This has been one of the hardest, yet most rewarding skills I’ve developed. From a young age, I placed a lot of pressure on myself to “get it right” the first time. I believed that being capable meant having all the answers and performing perfectly from day one. That mindset was completely challenged during my internship to become a registered dietitian. I quickly realized that rushing to understand everything wasn’t sustainable—and it wasn’t helping me grow.

For the first time, I had to admit when I didn’t know something. I had to ask for clarification, reach out for help, and be okay with not having it all figured out. That was deeply uncomfortable. But in that discomfort, I found growth. I began receiving clear answers, engaging in deeper dialogue, and discovering that the pressure for perfection came only from me—not from anyone else. In fact, my mentors and colleagues had patience and grace for my learning process; I just hadn’t extended that same grace to myself.

This ability to sit with uncertainty has carried into my creative work, especially as I’ve been building my podcast. I’ve had to embrace not being the expert, not having the perfect format, and learning as I go. But now I understand: the most important thing is simply to begin. Without learning to tolerate the discomfort of the unknown, I would’ve never dared to step outside my comfort zone.

Second, collaboration.
Collaboration has shown me that working with others—especially those who think differently or come from different backgrounds—turns good ideas into exceptional ones. In healthcare, this shows up all the time. When a patient has a complex issue, professionals from different specialties ask different questions and approach the problem with unique perspectives. This diversity of thought ensures nothing gets missed, and I always walk away having learned something new.

What’s even more powerful is how these experiences shape the way I tackle problems on my own. I’ve learned to think more broadly, draw from approaches outside my own training, and find creative solutions I wouldn’t have reached on my own. To me, the key to cultivating a collaborative mindset is surrounding yourself with people who are not like you—different life experiences, beliefs, worldviews. It pushes your thinking, sharpens your perspective, and ultimately helps you grow far beyond what you could achieve alone.

Finally, curiosity.
Curiosity, for me, is rooted in asking questions—not just to get answers, but to understand people better. As a dietitian and as a podcaster, I’ve found that asking thoughtful, open-ended questions leads to deeper connection and clarity. Sometimes, people express something, and it’s easy to make assumptions about what they mean. But asking one more question, or saying “can you tell me more?” can open up a whole new layer of meaning.

Curiosity builds trust. It makes people feel seen and heard. Whether I’m supporting a patient in understanding their health, or sitting across the table from a podcast guest sharing their story, being curious helps me connect on a human level. And more often than not, people truly appreciate when you show genuine interest in their experience—it strengthens relationships and builds bridges.

Awesome, really appreciate you opening up with us today and before we close maybe you can share a book recommendation with us. Has there been a book that’s been impactful in your growth and development?

One of the books that has had a profound impact on my personal and professional development is Becoming by Michelle Obama. Reading her story reminded me that you don’t need to come from wealth or privilege to become someone influential and impactful. What resonated most was how deeply human and relatable her journey felt—especially coming from a working-class family, with a father who was chronically ill, and parents who deeply valued education. That felt incredibly familiar.

Michelle’s reflections on navigating the world—both the joys and the injustices—really stuck with me. She didn’t ignore the barriers she faced; she acknowledged them, processed her emotions, and still moved forward with grace and purpose. She questioned the status quo, made intentional choices, and carved out a place for herself on her own terms.

While I’ve been surrounded by many powerful women in my life—especially my mom and my sisters—Michelle Obama was the first public figure I truly saw myself in, despite our different nationalities and cultural backgrounds. Her story gave me language for what I had experienced, and her strength gave me permission to see my own voice as valuable.

There’s one quote in particular that I carry with me:

“For every door that’s been opened to me, I’ve tried to open my door to others. And here is what I have to say, finally: Let’s invite one another in. Maybe then we can begin to fear less, to make fewer wrong assumptions, to let go of the biases and stereotypes that unnecessarily divide us. Maybe we can better embrace the ways we are the same. It’s not about being perfect. It’s not about where you get yourself in the end. There’s power in allowing yourself to be known and heard, in owning your unique story, in using your authentic voice. And there’s grace in being willing to know and hear others. This, for me, is how we become.”
This quote reminds me why I’ve made it a priority to create space—for myself and for others. I’m learning to take up room in places where people who look like me haven’t traditionally been seen or heard. I’ve come to realize that my story isn’t just my own—it’s a bridge. A tool for advocacy. A way to inspire and empower.

As the product of an immigrant household, I carry my background with pride—but I’m also more than that label. I’m a complex, multifaceted human being with a voice, a purpose, and something meaningful to offer the world. And Becoming helped me believe that even more deeply.

Contact Info:

• Instagram: @helloamericaitsyourneighbor