It's easy to understand depression when you are in a difficult place in life when you are being bullied, or have something traumatic going on in your life. It's much harder to understand when everything is going right for you. At 13, I couldn't have painted a more perfect life. Both my parents were employed, making a little over 100k each. I never went hungry or was abused or had to fear whether I would have a roof over my head or not. I was gifted and talented in reading and writing and in an advanced math class on route to graduate middle school with high school credits. I had no reason to feel depressed, especially when you looked at my friends, dealing with sexual abuse from a partner, divorced parents, an alcoholic father, an abusive mother, being abandoned by their entire family for coming out as gay, I had no right to be sad and feel bad for myself. But I did. My grades slipped down to Bs instead of the As I had always been so proud of. During the pandemic I lost my social support. My friends and I would call and talk sure, and my brother was at home all day, but we were five years apart and had vastly different interests, so we never hung out. I'd sit alone in my room, finishing up any coursework, and then I'd have the rest of the day alone with my thoughts. The next year, I was in 7th grade. My mental health had hit a new low. All my feelings were bubbling under the surface as I became more reclusive, putting on a happy mask to hide how I was feeling. I tried to end it three times. The first time, I slit my wrists in the bathtub, but I chickened out, using skin glue to glue them back together, bandaging them up, and when people asked what happened I said I had a contact burn from writing so much, as I was very into creative writing and would spend hours on my computer typing away. The second time I decided I didn't want to leave my parents with a mess, so I thought I would let myself drown in the bath. I thought it would be a peaceful death for me. I held my head underwater until I nearly blacked out, my lungs screaming as they breathed in water, when my mom got home, knocked on the door and asked if I wanted to go to the store with her. I agreed and in the end, she saved me. The last time my friends were upset with me for something I didn't do, so I sent my friend Brookelyn goodbye, and walked, without my phone, on the dark road behind my house, in the freezing January night.I would lay down and just let the elements take me. But as I lay there, my heart throbbed as I thought of my mother having to bury her only daughter, and a quote rang in my head, "Leave the world better than you found it". I couldn't die yet. I needed to make the world better first, I was not allowed to die until the world was a better place because of me. I forced myself to stand and walk back home, where my parents were waiting. Brookelyn had called the safety hotline on me. Flash forward five years, Brookelyn is still my best friend, and I got diagnosed with depression and ADHD, I got medicated, and am in the best mental space I have ever been in.

An African grey has the same emotional maturity and intelligence as a five year old child. By the time I was 5 years old, I knew exactly what I wanted to do with my life, I was going to be a vet, and I was going to specialize in exotics, large animals, and, of course, avians. As a kid I went to Disney world with my family, it was the only real vacation we ever went on, and after we visited the part, we went to an alligator farm, and I absolutely loved it. I got to hold a 20 pound Burmese python, which, for a Burmese python, is very small, but to me, only weighing maybe 60 pounds myself at the time, it was absolutely massive, but that was only the start of my love for exotics. After getting to hold the snake, we went to the hatchery, where I got to not only watch an alligator hatch, but also feed one. My love for all animals out of the ordinary was truly cemented, when we went to the aviary, where they held hundreds of beautifully plumaged parrots. I remember this medium sized grey bird with a red tail landing on my shoulder. It wasn't nearly as flashy as the macaws, or as loud as the cockatoos or as playful as the lovebirds and conures, but there was something so special about it. That bird, of course, was an African Grey, a 15 once, 14 year old female African Grey, named Athena. The owner explained that her first owner died in Hurricane Katrina, and that she was up for adoption and after a lot of convincing of my parents, Athena became an official part of the family. We were inseparable, if I was cooking in the kitchen, she was perched on the island, if I was taking a shower, she was hanging from the shower curtain rod. Everything was great, until one day when my father and brother were setting off fireworks for New Year and she got spooked, getting her feathers caught in a hanging toy in her cage, breaking a blood feather. I noticed instantly from her frantic flapping that something was wrong. The closest exotic vet lived over an hour away, and no matter how hard I tried to stop the bleeding with cornstarch and flour, Athena succumbed to her blood loss on the way to the hospital. In the end, you couldn't truly fault anyone. We lived in a small town away where an exotic vet wouldn't have the clientele to stay in business. It wasn't Athena's first time hearing fireworks, and the toy had been advertised as safe for parrots, and up until that moment, hadn't caused any issues or concerns. I got Athena cremated and had some of the tail feathers made into custom jewelry so she is with me wherever I go. She is the reason I am becoming an exotic vet. She's the reason why after I get my degree I will move back home and provide 24 hour care to exotic animals in rural areas, doing large animal work on the side. Athena ignited my passion for avian and exotics, and Athena is what strives me to keep working for my goals.

Agriculture is a vital and integral part of society that is often detrimentally overlooked, and it becomes ever more clear how important it is when you grow up in a small farming town like I have. Agriculture employs people who wouldn't be able to get a job otherwise, feeds the entire world, and creates a sense of community. In my town, we often have farmers markets where people can buy fresh farm raised products for a quarter of the store price. This not only builds a sense of connections to those who grow your food, but also allows people who are financially challenged to get more bare necessities than if they were to go to a regular grocery store. Additionally, it is absolutely vital that people know and understand where their food comes from and how it is made. Knowing where your food comes from allows you to make knowledgeable choices on food safety, quality, and nutritional value. On top of that, growing up learning about agriculture, you learn more of the importance of a healthy diet and what you need to eat to get all the nutrients required to stay fit. For example, as humans with a monogastric stomach, we are unable to fully digest and absorb many plants such as corn, lettuce, and parsley. Cattle, however, with their four chambered ruminant stomach, are able to fully digest these, and then absorb their nutrients, which as humans we are then able to absorb once the cow is slaughtered and we eat it. So how could I, a girl from a small farming town in Northeastern Colorado, have a future impact on not only agriculture, but the world? I plan on getting an undergraduate bachelor's degree in animal sciences, with minors in international agriculture, business, and animal and plant genetics. Then, I will take a few years off to shadow and internship under a multitude of different vets across the country and even the world, all the while planning research on how to make both crops and livestock more nutritious and sustainable. After a few years I will attend vet school, where I will test out my hypothesis's of genetics to create more efficient, healthy, and nutritious crops and livestock. After I graduate from vet school I will move back either home or to another tiny farming town, and start a scholarship of my own to support and help fund even more bright minded, incredible, ag-focused students through college.

What is success? It's a simple question in theory, but in practice, it is a complex and paradoxical idea. According to Merriam-Webster, success is "a degree or measure of succeeding, a favorable or desired outcome, the attainment of wealth, favor, or eminence". Success never looks the same to two people. To me, success is, yes, moving forward, getting good grades, getting into college, and becoming America's idea of a "Successful Businesswoman", but also being able to take a step back and live in the moment. Success is going from being hollow and unfeeling, life moving around me, but not truly living in it, to recognizing my emotions in a moment, stepping back and realizing I am in this moment, and interacting with it. I went through a very dark time a few years ago. I was bored with my classes, I didn't have many friends, I was losing interest in the things that made me happy, and was spiraling from the loss of a family member, on top of it all, I felt I couldn't complain because I was a white girl in a safe town who gets three meals a day and has the opportunity to go to school and learn. I was well off financially, in a safe household with two loving parents who supported me endlessly. Then I looked at some of my classmates, coming from broken homes and going hungry, or other people in other countries, who weren't allowed to go to school, or didn't have a roof over their heads. And comparing them to my situation, I had no right to "feel depressed" or complain or reach out because other people needed that help more than me. So, I kept silent, and before I knew it, I had lost the integral parts of my personality. I quit gymnastics, which I had done for over 10 years. I wore baggy clothes and darker colors. I stopped smiling as much or going out, and eventually, I realized I didn't feel anything. I didn't feel "happy" "sad" or "angry". I was just feeling hollow. It came to a head during the pandemic, when I tried reaching out to anyone, everyone, without any response. I texted my best friend "I love you. I'm sorry.", and at 8:00 p.m. in the middle of January, I walked out on our back road in the cold, planning to lay down, and just let go. I thought, freezing would be easier on my parents, so they wouldn't have to find their daughter in some mutilated state. Standing in that spot, I started shaking, and felt, for the first time in years, fear. Before I knew it, I turned around and walked back to my house, where my parents were waiting. It was the first time I saw my dad cry, as they held me, and I apologized over and over and over, clinging to them and shaking. My best friend had reported me to Safe2Tell, who immediately called my parents. After two years of blood, sweat, tears, and therapy, I got the help I needed. I finished middle school and began attending Destinations Career Academy of Colorado, where I have since blossomed. I am 3 years clean from cutting and feel again. So, what is success to me? After that night I made a promise to myself that I was not allowed to die until I left the world better than I came into it. Success is me fulfilling that promise every day, in any way I can, from volunteering and community service to even the small things you don't think about, like holding the door for someone giving a small complement, or simply just letting someone know they are important, that they are valid in everything they feel, and let them know they are seen. Yes, success to me is going on and doing big things and graduating and getting my vet degree, but on a deeper level, it's being able to work toward those dreams, but also take a step back, and live in the moment, notice how I feel, knowing if I hadn't turned around that night, I wouldn't be here today. Success is waking up every day, watching myself heal, and doing my part to help everyone else who is struggling.