The next four years will undoubtedly be a blur of late-night studying and demanding 2–6 hour labs during the day. While I’m incredibly grateful and excited for the opportunity to study Biomedical Sciences at USF Tampa Campus, I'm also aware of the impending, daunting emotional and financial challenges ahead. My education will be both time-consuming and emotionally taxing, with the end goal of becoming a certified Clinical Embryologist working in a local fertility clinic. Receiving this scholarship would not only ease the financial burden, but it would be an investment in my future. I plan to place the funds in an account with a 4% APR to generate passive income, allowing my money to grow while I focus on my education. These funds would ultimately help cover tuition and/or student loans, giving me more financial freedom when I’m ready to start a family of my own.

The one thing every person has in common is the inevitability of making choices. Some are small—like what to eat for dinner—and others feel much bigger, like decisions that might change everything. I had one of those moments the first night I wore my scoliosis brace to bed. I was 13, and as I tightened the last Velcro strap, my chest felt like it was being crushed. Every breath was sharp, and I honestly thought I was suffocating—not just from the brace, but from the fear of what my future would look like. Night after night, I laid there with hot tears streaming down my face, completely overwhelmed. This went on for months, until one night I quietly told myself, “Stop wearing it.” That choice wasn’t just about escaping the pain. It was the moment I realized I couldn’t keep going through things alone. Up until that point, I thought I had to handle everything by myself. But when I finally admitted that I needed help, everything started to change. I opened up to my mom, grandparents, and friends—people who had always been there, just waiting for me to let them in. Their support didn’t make me weaker like I’d feared—it made me stronger. This mindset has carried into my school life, especially during some of the toughest moments. Scoliosis has affected my daily routine more than most people realize. Long school days, hours of sitting, and carrying a backpack all take a toll on my back and shoulders. There are days when it’s hard to focus because of the pain, and even walking between classes can be exhausting. But even with all of that, I’ve stayed committed to my goals. I’ve kept up with challenging classes, stayed active in National Honor Society, and worked hard to stay on track for college. Still, junior year pushed me to my limits. I felt like all the progress I’d made could fall apart, and the fear of failing was heavy. But again, my support system came through—my mom’s constant belief in me, and my friends’ ability to pull me back when I started shutting down. FaceTime calls, late-night walks, random texts—every little thing helped me rebuild my confidence and reminded me how far I’ve come. Letting others in has helped me more than I ever expected. Their support has helped me grow not just academically, but personally too. I’ve learned how to advocate for myself, how to keep going when things feel impossible, and how to ask for what I need. As I get ready to move on to college, I know scoliosis will continue to present challenges—whether that’s needing special accommodations, handling medical care, or just managing daily pain while balancing classes. Additional funds would help ease some of that pressure. It would allow me to focus more on learning and less on whether I can afford the things that help me function and succeed—like accessible living arrangements, transportation, proper seating, or my specialized weekly Scroth physical therapy. Scoliosis has shaped me in ways I didn’t expect. It’s made me more resilient, more self-aware, and more connected to the people who lift me up. And while I know I’ll face more tough choices ahead, I also know I don’t have to face them alone.

Standing on the doorstep of a new home every two years since first grade, suitcase in hand, the weight of uncertainty pressed down on me as I looked at yet another new neighborhood. Each move was not just a change of address, but an invitation to reinvent myself, a challenge to find stability in the ever-shifting landscape of my life. It was through this instability, however, that I discovered the power of adaptation, resilience, and determination—qualities that would later help me achieve something I once thought impossible. When I moved from Virginia to Florida in December of eighth grade, I thought I would finally find a sense of stability. But instead, I found myself feeling more alone than ever. Moving so frequently had left me feeling isolated, unable to form lasting friendships. Each new school meant starting over, and the effort to fit in felt exhausting and futile. By the time I entered high school, the loneliness had settled deep, growing into a persistent sadness that I struggled to shake. I knew I needed to break free from the cycle, but I didn’t know how. The challenge was daunting. Instead of retreating further into isolation, I decided to push myself out of my comfort zone. I joined clubs, forcing myself to attend meetings even when I wanted nothing more than to stay home. I struck up conversations with classmates, even when the fear of rejection loomed over me. I took small but purposeful steps, each one a quiet rebellion against the loneliness that had threatened to define me. But resilience is not just about pushing forward—it’s about navigating setbacks. There were days when the loneliness felt overwhelming, when I convinced myself that my efforts were pointless. Yet, I refused to let those thoughts dictate my future. I reminded myself that connection takes time, that every interaction—no matter how small—was a step toward something better. Slowly, the walls I had built around myself began to crack. I found people who shared my interests, who saw me for who I was, and who reminded me that I wasn’t alone. Eventually, my efforts paid off. By the end of junior year, I had formed genuine friendships, people I could rely on and who relied on me in return. The moment I realized I no longer felt invisible, I felt the weight of years of isolation lift. The challenges I faced had not just prepared me for this achievement, but had shaped me into someone who thrives in adversity, someone who refuses to let circumstances dictate my future. I know that obstacles will continue to arise, but the strategies I have developed—resilience, adaptability, and the courage to reach out—will remain with me. As I step into the next chapter of my life, I do so with the confidence that no matter the hardship, I will find a way to rise above it.

In second grade, I shared my dream of becoming a veterinarian with my teacher and classmates in an icebreaker circle. I knew then that I wanted to impact the lives of animals and their owners. This childhood dream blossomed over the past five years as I volunteered at two separate animal clinics and have been entrusted with varying opportunities to care for animals. I’ve observed how the scientific principles I’ve been studying at school are the foundation of clinical practice and animal conservation efforts. I will build the necessary foundation for subsequent graduate study, pursuing my DVM. My work at the veterinary clinics has been incredibly rewarding, but sometimes heartbreaking. When one of my cats was diagnosed with Feline Infectious Peritonitis, an often fatal disease, I knew how grave his situation was. Thankfully. Dr. Romina Scorteanu refused to give up and saved his life – a process that took many weeks. Recognizing my interest in animal care, she offered me an opportunity to shadow her at the clinic. My initial responsibilities included simple work such as cleaning cages and exam rooms. Over time, my duties expanded to caring for rescued kittens and socializing them to prepare for potential adoption. I eventually shadowed Dr. Scorteanu during consultations, learning how to comfort both animals and owners. I also learned about crippling diseases such as heartworm, panleukopenia, and feline herpes. When I first joined the clinic, I could only watch blood draws but with time, I was trusted to help restrain the animal and even press down on a limb to make the vein more accessible. Now, I’m entrusted to deliver oral and intranasal medications, as well as assist in the recovery of the animals post-anesthesia, assuming a more advanced role in the clinic. With my growing experience, I’ve gained not just knowledge, but also confidence. I pushed through intense emotions and grew into my role, now even more confident about my future as a DVM. Dr. Scorteanu observed my passion and encouraged me to read more about contemporary veterinary practices. She shared veterinary journals, and I eagerly read about animal health, diseases, and ailments. My self-directed research involves engagement with educational shows and journals, like dvm360, in which I learn about exotic animal diagnostics, veterinary industry advancements, and dermatological conditions such as Interdigital furunculosis. My research also led to an interest in animal conservation efforts for endangered species. One such initiative involves breeding programs at zoos and wildlife preserves. Artificial insemination programs address the decline of endangered species, including polar bears, cheetahs, and Pallas’s cat. To make these efforts a success, veterinarians are responsible for the diagnosis, treatment, and care of the participants. Visiting McCarthy’s Wildlife Sanctuary, a local preserve rescuing a variety of wildlife, I was inspired to learn more about their rehabilitation program for injured and orphaned wild animals. This vital program also involves veterinarians caring for the sanctuary’s residents. I’m eager to engage in similar impactful conservation initiatives, protecting and caring for the many animals sharing our planet.

My biological mom and dad separated, then got divorced when I was five years old. They agreed to joint custody, but I lived with my mom the majority of the time. Shortly after the divorce was finalized, my mom and I moved in with my maternal grandparents. At first, my dad would call me every night. Those calls were my reassurance that even though my parents weren’t together, I still had my dad in my life. But then, the calls became less frequent. At first, I told myself he was busy. I excused the silence, thinking he’d make it up to me next time. But next time never came. Eventually, he stopped calling altogether. When my dad relinquished his legal rights to me so he wouldn’t have to pay child support, I was too young to understand any financial reasoning. What I did understand was that my dad had chosen to legally disown me. It felt like abandonment, and I couldn’t help but wonder what I had done wrong. Why didn’t he want to talk to me? Why didn’t he want to see me? What was so wrong with me that he wanted to be free of me? These questions burrowed deep inside me, shaping my sense of self-worth. If my own father didn’t think I was worth sticking around for, why would anyone else? I started believing that people only stayed in my life because they had to, not because they wanted to. This insecurity affected my friendships and any early attempts at romantic relationships. I second-guessed people’s kindness and love, expecting them to leave me just like my dad had. If someone canceled plans or seemed distant, my mind would instantly jump to the worst conclusion—I wasn’t good enough to keep them around, and they were only being nice to me out of guilt. For years, I carried this fear with me, allowing it to dictate how I interacted with the world. I kept people at arm’s length, afraid that getting too close would just make their eventual departure more painful. But at some point, I had to face the truth: my father’s choice to leave was not a reflection of my worth. It was a reflection of his choices, his struggles, and his limitations. Realizing this didn’t erase the pain, but it did start the process of healing. My mom and my grandparents showed me that love isn’t just about biology; it’s about effort and consistency. They chose to stay, to support me, to remind me that I was wanted. With their encouragement, I began challenging the beliefs I had formed as a child. I learned to open up to friends, to trust that some people truly wanted to be in my life. My parents’ divorce and my father’s absence impacted me in ways I’m still realizing and working through. But it also shaped me into someone who understands the importance of being there for others, of showing up even when it’s hard. I want to be the kind of person who makes others feel valued, who never lets someone wonder if they are worth loving. Because I know now—I always was.

In an icebreaker circle in second grade, I shared my dream of becoming a veterinarian with my teacher and classmates. Even then I knew I wanted to better the lives of animals and their owners. This childhood dream blossomed into a growing passion that led me to volunteer at two specialized diagnostic animal clinics since 7th grade. While volunteering, I had the opportunity to observe how the scientific principles I studied at school acted as the foundation of both clinical practice and animal conservation efforts. After moving from Virginia to Florida in the middle of 8th grade, I needed to find a new clinic to volunteer at and continue building a strong foundation for my future.  When one of my cats was diagnosed with Feline Infectious Peritonitis, an often fatal disease, I was afraid after learning how grave his situation was. But a determined veterinarian refused to give up on saving his life. Throughout the long months of his treatment at Pet Diagnostics, practice owner Dr. Romina Scorteanu recognized my interest and offered me the invaluable opportunity to shadow her. My knowledge and responsibilities quickly expanded after she took me under her wing. But, the expansion of my duties wasn’t always enjoyable. It was often emotionally taxing; however, instead of scaring me away from a future in veterinary medicine, this has only made me want to work harder to learn how to help animals and save their families from their own heartbreaking experiences.  My initial responsibilities included grunt work such as cleaning cages and exam rooms, continuing on to caring for rescued kittens and socializing them to prepare for adoption. I eventually shadowed Dr. Scorteanu during consultations, comforting both the animal and their owner. This allowed me to learn more about crippling diseases such as heartworm, panleukopenia, and feline herpes. Waiting for the SNAP ELISA test results was some of the most nerve-wracking 8 minutes I’ve experienced thus far. To run those tests, blood would have to be drawn from the animal. I went from standing in the back of the room just watching, to helping restrain the animal and pressing down on a limb to make the vein more accessible. Now I am entrusted to deliver oral and intranasal medications, as well as recover animals post-anesthesia, assuming a more advanced role in the clinic. With my growing experience, I’ve gained not just knowledge, but also a confidence I didn’t realize I lacked. I pushed through intense intimidation, allowing myself to come out of my shell and fully embrace my future.  As an undergraduate in Biology, I will focus on animal science coursework and ecology. I currently engage in self-directed research through educational shows and journals, like dvm360. I discovered a passion for endangered species protection and animal conservation, such as breeding programs within zoos. I have a deep interest in artificial insemination programs in zoos helping endangered species like the Polar bear, Cheetah, and Pallas’s cat. I hope to engage in work as meaningful as this in the future.