Mental illness has been a constant presence in my life and in my family. I have lived with anxiety and depression for as long as I can remember. They shape how I experience the world and how I relate to myself. These struggles are familiar across generations. My mother and maternal grandmother have also lived with anxiety, depression, and restrictive eating patterns. Watching them navigate these challenges helped me understand that mental health is not about weakness or willpower but about care, compassion, and understanding. My relationship with my body and food has been deeply influenced by both mental health and gender identity. For most of my life, I was considered obese. Growing up in that body brought judgment and discomfort from the outside world and from within myself. As a non-binary person assigned female at birth, being in a larger and curvier body intensified my gender dysphoria. I often felt that the more feminine my body appeared, the further I was from being seen and understood for who I truly am. When I was twenty, I lost a significant amount of weight because I could not always afford enough food. The change happened quickly and unintentionally. After living in a body that had been judged for so long, the sudden difference brought a complicated mix of feelings. I was afraid that if I regained the weight, I would once again be perceived in ways that did not align with my identity. That fear, along with underlying anxiety, led to restrictive eating habits that I struggled to let go of. Later, during a difficult time in my life, I did regain much of the weight I had lost. It was discouraging, and it triggered the same fears and dysphoria that had driven my earlier restriction. Eventually, with the support of my doctor, I began a healthier and more sustainable approach to managing my weight and well-being. This time, the focus was not on control but on care. I learned to prioritize balance, nourishment, and self-acceptance over fear. Living with anxiety, depression, and gender dysphoria has taught me how layered mental health can be. It is not only emotional, but also physical and deeply tied to one's identity. Some days bring overthinking and restlessness; others bring exhaustion and sadness. I have learned to recognize these cycles and respond with patience rather than judgment. Healing is an ongoing process, but it is a genuine reality. Watching my mother and grandmother face similar struggles taught me that living with mental illness takes strength. Their resilience and honesty showed me that progress is possible, even when it is slow. These experiences have shaped who I am and motivated me to pursue a career in social work. They have given me empathy for people living with complex intersections of identity, mental health, and survival. I want to help others feel seen, supported, and empowered to heal on their own terms. My journey has not been easy, but it has given me clarity, compassion, and purpose that I carry into every part of my life.

Supporting others with their mental health has been both a personal and professional journey shaped by my own lived experiences. For over a decade, health professionals have recognized signs of ADHD in me, yet I have faced persistent barriers to receiving a formal diagnosis. Navigating those challenges while managing symptoms such as difficulty focusing, emotional regulation struggles, and burnout has given me a deep understanding of how complex and frustrating the mental health system can be. I know firsthand how validating it feels when someone listens, believes you, and recognizes your efforts to cope without clear support. That insight has made me more compassionate, patient, and determined to help others who face similar obstacles. In my current role as a student caseworker intern with Jefferson County Human Services, I support children and families experiencing trauma and instability. I focus on building trust, offering empathy, and promoting emotional safety during moments of uncertainty. In previous positions as a youth mentor, residential advisor, and AmeriCorps member, I supported young people struggling with identity, stress, and emotional well-being. Whether mentoring teens in care or offering a consistent presence in a shelter, I have seen how small, genuine acts of support can make a lasting difference. I am currently pursuing dual master’s degrees in Social Work and International Human Rights to combine direct service with systemic advocacy. My goal is to become a licensed clinical social worker specializing in trauma-informed and neurodiversity-affirming care. I plan to expand access to mental health resources, reduce stigma around conditions like ADHD, and help others feel seen long before diagnosis or crisis. Ultimately, my experiences have taught me that emotional support begins with empathy and understanding. I want to ensure that every person I work with feels validated, heard, and empowered on their journey toward healing.

I wouldn’t really say I’m a fan of Wicked in the traditional sense. For me, it’s less about the musical itself and more about what it represents. Anything related to The Wizard of Oz instantly reminds me of my late grandfather, Alexander, and the stories passed down in our family. My grandfather loved The Wizard of Oz because his father did, and it became something of a family legacy. His aunt was even named Dorothy Ozma Edwards by his father, which remains a remarkable piece of family history. Because of that connection, anything tied to Oz feels personal. It isn’t just a story for me; it’s a reminder of my grandfather, his sense of wonder, and the generations of family who cherished the same tale. After he passed, I wanted to carry that memory with me, so I got a small ruby slipper tattoo behind my ear. It’s a quiet tribute, but it means a lot. Whenever I see or hear something connected to Oz, I think of him and the lineage of love and imagination it represents. So while I don’t consider myself a big Wicked fan, I appreciate it as part of a world that holds deep meaning for me. It keeps alive the bond I shared with my grandfather and honors the legacy he passed down.