There could be a multitude of answers coming from this, most commonly are likely to be: mom, dad, sister, brother, aunt, uncle, teacher, etc. And of course, those are very good answers, considering each person is different with their connections to said person. And I would be inclined to say the same thing, as my mom, sister, and dad have had huge impacts on my life growing up. Yet, I find myself thinking about the first ever therapist I had, when I was 8 years old, her name being Dr. Esparza. If having a therapist that young did not give it away, my childhood was anything but easy, so my sister and I struggled a whole long, being caught between family issues, and a heavy grieving process for our birth mother. Truthfully, mental health is such a major but unspoken subject that has affected millions of people. It has no discrimination among class, race, religion, or gender. And my mother was no exception. Ever since my mom was in her early teens, she struggled with early bipolar depression and schizophrenia. I have no knowledge of and will never know of her truth, but I know enough to know she was a life that was meant to be great before it abruptly ended in 2019. But when I was put into therapy, I strongly resisted, disliking the idea of someone who was not family helping me, and looking back I do feel bad for Dr. Esparza, she is an immensely patient woman. And even though I cannot remember much from those years ago, she always knew how to keep me open and calm when talking about what made me upset, as it is difficult to do so with someone traumatically affected, a child at that. She continued to work past my issues, and again looking back, I cannot put into words how thankful I am for her. After her, I moved a lot more between my parents, but my experience with her taught me to be more accepting of admitting when I need help, and getting that help when/if I need it. And every counselor, therapist, or psychologist I've had since has been an improving process. Learning to accept help when I need it, and heal myself came from the incredible woman Dr. Esparza is. And although she may not remember me, she has, and will always, be one of the most influential people in my life.

It's perceived that grief is a seven step process, but if you have personally experienced such pain, could you honestly say it is that simple? The pain, the sorrow, the confusion, and the guilt, in some cases, can be monumental, and take on various forms. During the second half of my freshman year, in February 2019, I got a call from my dad to come home from my track meet early, which caught me entirely by surprise, as we previously agreed I would stay the entire meet. Despite that, it seemed serious, so I got a ride home within 15 minutes. When I arrived, the emotional pressure of the room my family was in was debilitating, palatable even. I was told to sit with my sister beside me, both of us unaware and unprepared for what news we were to receive. And as my dad spoke, I will never forget the way his voice wavered saying “Mami is gone.” I didn't understand at first because he could have been talking about his mom, or mine, which I didn't live with. But during my moment of shock and confusion, my sister broke down, understandably, and it was then when it hit me. My mom was gone. I was so lost and confused, over and over again repeating, “Why? I just texted her hours ago, why?ˮ I had always been aware she had been struggling with mental health issues, but this came out of nowhere for me, even more so knowing she took her own life. I remember, for months after, being so scared and lost without my mother figure, and being hesitant of being vulnerable, as I had to “be strong” for my sister, being the oldest. My family had to walk on eggshells around us, as they weren't sure how we would take it for so long, and truthfully neither did we. Prior to said event, my sister and I were already in therapy for our unfortunately traumatic childhood, so continuing that healing after my mom's passing, it was more restorative than I could have realized. It sounds cliche, but the struggle was real; it still is. Opening up to the only other person who could truly understand where I was during this mental exhaustion, my sister and I became each other's support systems. We did strive to open up to my dad and my mom's family, which of course helped, but there was no other match to how well my sister and I helped each other in this life-changing situation. And almost as a distraction, I immersed myself in my school work and after-school activities, which surprisingly landed me at the top of my class for both my freshman, sophomore and junior year. Continuing to push myself through my academics and surrounding myself with people who care about my well-being carried me through the horrendously painful grief I experienced. Visiting these rather tender memories, I cannot express enough how much it has changed me as a person. Throughout the ever evolving process, I find myself experiencing varying emotions, from normal to thoroughly exhausting. And picking up on how I can feel day to day was an engaging learning experience, yet I do it not only for myself, but for others as well. Being aware of what I can do to help a person, with my hyperawareness to emotion, makes me feel like a better friend, sister, daughter and fellow student. And evolving my ability to work under pressure, in almost any situation, is something I never expected, but will be grateful for in the present and near future.

The older people of our communities have unbelievable amounts of knowledge, with underappreciated value and wisdom that not many hear often. I have a particular love of learning from the people who came before me, my abuelos and abuelas, grandparents in my culture. They are so fun, loud and expressive. I can't help but be so fond of how they tell the past of my parents and their own. And as unfortunate as it is, I don't get to see them often. We are a big Hispanic family, so the connections we have are huge for us. But we are all spread across the country, in New York, Texas, even in Puerto Rico and the Dominican Republic. Visits don't come by too often, as they are expensive for round trip airline tickets. And we have our ever-growing individual families, so we always keep in mind that communication between our family members shows how much we love and care for each other. Even in small moments, showing small acts of care and love could brighten even the darkest of days for the older community.

From a young age, science has always been a fascinating yet complex subject. Initially, I was interested in meteorology and studied the weather, then geology and the earth, even down to anthropology. But as I got into high school, my yearning to solve problems with my knowledge of science skyrocketed, and forensic science caught my eye. I learned everything I could, from books, shows, documentaries, etc., but I realized for science to even develop, there is a base to it that starts off the process: Chemistry and Biology. And even those I have an immense love for. The study of reactions and the study of life, both vital yet so broad, free for curious exploration. The use of one or both can be of many uses, which is why I would like to have one or both in my skill set, for my favorite application of science, to find answers. Learning about the beginnings of all chemical developments and the structures of life would be a challenge, but one I am more than willing to take on. But the daunting thought of not being able to afford the education I have been working for is a stress I deal with daily, as most other students would. Working to apply myself to as many scholarships as possible, hoping to be a prime candidate for such. I knew all my hard work would not go to nothing, especially with the support of my family behind me. Yet I almost feel a sense of growing guilt depending on them all the time, financially specifically. Once I have free time aside from school, I plan on finding a job that pays and treats the employees well, and possibly completing smaller side jobs for friends or family to compensate for all they have done for me growing up. It truly humbles me knowing I strive for everything I have from this point on, but at the same time makes me hyper aware of the possibilities that I have in my potential future. Truly understanding the depth of these intricate branches of my future would open up the mind expansively, sparking infinite possibilities. These kinds of sciences lead to endless questions, yet an overwhelming amount of possible answers, answers that could possibly help people. Whether it be for closure, for justice or just to give a complete picture, science always has a way of providing useful and important information for needed situations, fueling my desire to study such fascinations, all while creating the life I have always wanted to have.

Defining yourself as ‘unique’ sounds cliche and not so humble, so I would rather not venture into that territory. Of course, I do believe that every person has their own ‘flare’ per se, so it is essential to embrace what we each have as individuals. And with that individuality comes talents or motivations, depending on the personality and experience of said person. Even down to subconscious habits could signify what a person is like. A person could be described in various ways, by friends, family or even strangers, and as they say “first impressions matter.” Despite that, the only person who has a complete viewpoint of you is, well, you. If I had to put it simply, I can frankly say I am an observant and empathic person. Being aware of my surroundings, reading the room, knowing what I can and can't do in any situation, and gauging my capabilities are all skills I have developed and somewhat perfected over the years. Along with that, picking up new skills or concepts I’m interested in makes any learning experience a gratifying and refreshing one. I could even say I genuinely enjoy learning, which I don’t often encounter in my generation unfortunately. Understanding that enables me to help others, for tutoring, or simply assisting someone when they're distraught, almost as a life counselor, but for those I care for. I’ve been told I have a comforting aura, and I guess that signifies my experience with helping others in a pleasant way, which comes with the territory of being the oldest of six. Gauging who I’m working with, what I can do, and where I could go with my progress highlights my strength, both as a leader and supporter. You could call me a people person with heightened communication and social perception skills. But like any person would, I need my recharge time to reset my social ability and patience scale. Being aware of when I reach my max sustains my quality of effort, and that increases my potential to do more with what I have on hand. Sounds humorous and sarcastic, yet it’s inherently true. And considering people need a positive but perceptive person around, as a friend, peer, student or otherwise, it feels right for me to be who I am unapologetically. Overall, my core personality traits give me the dose of reality others have a hard time accessing at such a young age, and it almost makes me sound pessimistic internally. But I recognize it as more of a motivation to make my own reality, one that I have worked my way through to get and am entirely content with. I don't believe money or success defines happiness, although they are significant rewards. It's being grateful for what experiences you’ve had, and working for what you want that truly captures the essence of who a person can be and what they want to be to live a fruitful life.

There could be a multitude of answers coming from this, most commonly are likely to be: getting to know mom, dad, sister, brother, aunt, uncle, teacher, etc. And of course, those are very good answers, considering each person is different with their connections to said person. And I would be inclined to say the same thing, as my mom, sister, and dad are huge parts of my life growing up. Yet, I find myself thinking about the first ever therapist I had, when I was 8 years old, her name being Dr. Esparza. If having a therapist that young did not give it away, my childhood was anything but easy, so my sister and I struggled a whole long, being caught between family issues. But when I was put into therapy, I strongly resisted, disliking the idea of someone who was not family helping me, and looking back I do feel bad for Dr. Esparza, she is a really patient woman. She always knew how to keep me open and calm when talking about what made me upset, as it is difficult to do so with someone traumatically affected, a child at that. She continued to work past my issues, and again looking back, I cannot put into words how thankful I am for her. I moved a lot more between my parents, but my experience with her taught me to admit when I need help, and getting that help when/if I need it. And every counselor, therapist, or psychologist I've had since has been an improving process. Learning to accept help when I need it, and heal myself came from the incredible woman Dr. Esparza is. And although she may not remember me, she has, and will always, be one of the most influential people in my life.

From a young age, science has always been a fascinating yet complex subject. Initially I was interested in meteorology and studied the weather, then geology and the earth, even down to anthropology. But as I got into high school my yearning to solve problems with my knowledge of science skyrocketed, and forensic science caught my eye. I learned everything I could from books, shows, documentaries, etc, but I realized for such a science to even develop, there is a base to it that starts off the process: Chemistry and Biology. And even those I have an immense love for. The study of reactions and the study of life, both vital yet so broad, free for curious exploration. The use of one or both can be of many uses, which is why I would like to have one or both in my skill set, for my favorite application of science, to find answers. I have always been inclined to help people to find answers or solve problems, even if I had a hard time with it myself, so using my innate curiousity, I et my mind to coming up with a solution, specifically in education, but in any field if need be. Throughout this year, and last year especially, I have truly discovered how interesting, and helpful, the hunger for knowledge can be. Learning about the beginnings of all chemical events, and the structures of life would be a challenge, but one I am more than willing to take on. Truly understanding the depth of these intricate branches of study would open up the mind expansively, sparking infinite possibilities. These kinds of sciences lead to endless questions, yet an overwhelming amount of possible answers, answers that could possibly help people. Whether it be for closure, for justice or just to give a complete picture, science always has a way of providing useful and important information for needed situations, fueling my desire to study such fascinations.

It's perceived that grief is a seven step process, but if you have personally experienced such pain, could you honestly say it is that simple? The pain, the sorrow, the confusion, and the guilt, in some cases, can be monumental, and take on a variety of forms. During the second half of my freshman year, in February 2019, I got a call from my dad to come home and when I arrived, the emotional pressure of the room was debilitating, palatable even. And as my dad spoke, I will never forget the way his voice wavered saying “Mami is gone.” I didn't understand at first because he could have been talking about his mom, or mine, which I didn't live with. My mom was gone. I was so lost and confused, over and over again repeating “Why? I just texted her hours ago, why?ˮ I had always been aware she had been struggling with mental health issues, but this came out of nowhere for me, even more so knowing she took her own life. I remember, for months after, being so scared and lost without my mother figure, and being hesitant of being vulnerable, as I had to “be strong” for my sister, being the oldest. Prior to said event, my sister and I were already in therapy for our unfortunately traumatic childhood, so continuing that healing after my mom's passing, it was more restorative than I could have realized. It sounds cliche, but the struggle was real; it still is. Opening up to the only other person who could truly understand where I was during this mental exhaustion, my sister and I became each other's support systems. We did strive to open up to my dad and my mom's family, which of course helped, but there was no other match to how well my sister and I helped each other in this life changing situation. Visiting these rather tender memories, I cannot express enough how much it has changed me as a person. Throughout the ever-evolving process, I find myself experiencing varying emotions, from normal to thoroughly exhausting. Being aware of how I can help a person makes me feel like a better friend, sister, daughter and fellow student. And evolving my ability to work under pressure, in almost any situation, is something I never expected, but will be grateful for in the present and near future.

Defining yourself as ‘unique’ sounds cliche and not so humble, so I would rather not venture into that territory. Of course, I do believe that every person has their own ‘flare’ per se, so it is essential to embrace what we each have as individuals. And with that individuality comes talents or motivations, depending on the personality and experience of said person. Even down to subconscious habits could signify what a person is like. A person could be described in various ways, by friends, family or even strangers, and as they say “first impressions matter.” Despite that, the only person who has a complete viewpoint of you is, well, you. If I had to put it simply, I can frankly say I am an observant and empathic person. Being aware of my surroundings, reading the room, knowing what I can and can't do in any situation, and gauging my capabilities are all skills I have developed and somewhat perfected over the years. Along with that, picking up new skills or concepts I’m interested in makes any learning experience a gratifying and refreshing one. I could even say I genuinely enjoy learning, which I don’t often encounter in my generation unfortunately. Understanding that enables me to help others, for tutoring, or simply assisting someone when they're distraught, almost as a life counselor, but for those I care for. I’ve been told I have a comforting aura, and I guess that signifies my experience with helping others in a pleasant way, which comes with the territory of being the oldest of six. Gauging who I’m working with, what I can do, and where I could go with my progress highlights my strength, both as a leader and supporter. You could call me a people person with heightened communication and social perception skills. But like any person would, I need my recharge time to reset my social ability and patience scale. Being aware of when I reach my max sustains my quality of effort, and that increases my potential to do more with what I have on hand. Sounds humorous and sarcastic, yet it’s inherently true. And considering people need a positive but perceptive person around, as a friend, peer, student or otherwise, it feels right for me to be who I am unapologetically. Overall, my core personality traits give me the dose of reality others have a hard time accessing at such a young age, and it almost makes me sound pessimistic internally. But I recognize it as more of a motivation to make my own reality, one that I have worked my way through to get and am entirely content with. I don't believe money or success defines happiness, although they are significant rewards. It's being grateful for what experiences you’ve had, and working for what you want that truly captures the essence of who a person can be and what they want to be to live a fruitful life.

Truthfully, I wouldn’t put in towards my education, at least not completely. My parents have been in full support of my dreams, supporting me in each step even when I wasn’t aware. They have given me what I needed, especially in any moment of crisis. 12 years ago, my dad was a single father serving in the military with two young daughters in a very small apartment. Despite knowing the challenge ahead of him, he was fully prepared to make financial and career decisions in order to benefit our lives. Not only my dad, but my step mom as well. Even before her and my dad got married, she was already filling in the painfully vacant maternal role I was missing growing up. Whenever my dad couldn’t be there for us, she was always ready to help out, incredible for a busy registered nurse. As I got older, my eyes were opened to the amount of time and care they both put into making our lives better every single day. Maybe it is the oldest sibling instinct, but I always made it my mission to somehow make their days easier and more enjoyable, just like they did with ours. Being given the opportunity have any amount of money, I would find a way to gift it to them as a token of my appreciation and love for everything they have done and will continue doing.

Student Leadership is using your compassion, character, and leadership skills on a group of people to guide them to positive experiences and decisions and to help them through the tough or bad times. I have always been inclined to help people, even if I had a hard time with it myself, so it made it that much easier to show people how certain things could be done differently. So being given a position like that, in multiple different groups, it continues to teach me about not only myself, but others as well, even in new, more advanced environments. Throughout this year, and last year especially, I have truly discovered how helpful support and leadership can be. With band, robotics, NHS and even track, having an officer position comes with its duties and responsibilities, of which has given me so much experience with a huge variety of different social groups, skill sets, and especially mentalities. Even being the first child of my household, it means a lot to know what I want to do, and where it could take me as long as I can look back on my experiences for reference. Managing how I do things with others around me has been an asset I have picked up on in my own home, and in my community, and implementing myself in needed situations has opened up more opportunities for myself and others than I could have ever imagined. And as time passes on, adopting the traits of a leader; maturity, intellectuality, compassion, and versatility; set up my stability for the education I have worked so hard for, and will continue to improve as I age.

Defining yourself as ‘unique’ sounds cliche and not so humble, so I would rather not venture into that territory. Of course, I do believe that every person has their own ‘flare’ per se, so it is essential to embrace what we each have as individuals. And with that individuality comes talents or motivations, depending on the personality and experience of said person. Even down to subconscious habits could signify what a person is like. A person could be described in various ways, by friends, family or even strangers, and as they say “first impressions matter.” Despite that, the only person who has a complete viewpoint of you is, well, you. If I had to put it simply, I can frankly say I am an observant and empathic person. Being aware of my surroundings, reading the room, knowing what I can and can't do in any situation, and gauging my capabilities are all skills I have developed and somewhat perfected over the years. Along with that, picking up new skills or concepts I’m interested in makes any learning experience a gratifying and refreshing one. I could even say I genuinely enjoy learning, which I don’t often encounter in my generation unfortunately. Understanding that enables me to help others, for tutoring, or simply assisting someone when they're distraught, almost as a life counselor, but for those I care for. I’ve been told I have a comforting aura, and I guess that signifies my experience with helping others in a pleasant way, which comes with the territory of being the oldest of six. Gauging who I’m working with, what I can do, and where I could go with my progress highlights my strength, both as a leader and supporter. You could call me a people person with heightened communication and social perception skills. But like any person would, I need my recharge time to reset my social ability and patience scale. Being aware of when I reach my max sustains my quality of effort, and that increases my potential to do more with what I have on hand. Sounds humorous and sarcastic, yet it’s inherently true. And considering people need a positive but perceptive person around, as a friend, peer, student or otherwise, it feels right for me to be who I am unapologetically. Overall, my core personality traits give me the dose of reality others have a hard time accessing at such a young age, and it almost makes me sound pessimistic internally. But I recognize it as more of a motivation to make my own reality, one that I have worked my way through to get and am entirely content with. I don't believe money or success defines happiness, although they are significant rewards. It's being grateful for what experiences you’ve had, and working for what you want that truly captures the essence of who a person can be and what they want to be to live a fruitful life.

It's perceived that grief is a seven step process, but if you have personally experienced such pain, could you honestly say it is that simple? The pain, the sorrow, the confusion, and the guilt, in some cases, can be monumental, and take on a variety of forms. During the second half of my freshman year, in February 2019, I got a call from my dad to come home from my track meet early, which caught me entirely by surprise, as we previously agreed I would stay the entire meet. Despite that, it seemed serious, so I got a ride home within 15 minutes. When I arrived, the emotional pressure of the room my family was in was debilitating, palatable even. I was told to sit with my sister beside me, both of us unaware and unprepared for what news we were to receive. And as my dad spoke, I will never forget the way his voice wavered saying “Mami is gone.” I didn't understand at first because he could have been talking about his mom, or mine, which I didn't live with. But during my moment of shock and confusion, my sister broke down, understandably, and it was then when it hit me. My mom was gone. I was so lost and confused, over and over again repeating “Why? I just texted her hours ago, why?ˮ I had always been aware she had been struggling with mental health issues, but this came out of nowhere for me, even more so knowing she took her own life. I remember, for months after, being so scared and lost without my mother figure, and being hesitant of being vulnerable, as I had to “be strong” for my sister, being the oldest. My family had to walk on eggshells around us, as they weren't sure how we would take it for so long, and truthfully neither did we. Prior to said event, my sister and I were already in therapy for our unfortunately traumatic childhood, so continuing that healing after my mom's passing, it was more restorative than I could have realized. It sounds cliche, but the struggle was real; it still is. Opening up to the only other person who could truly understand where I was during this mental exhaustion, my sister and I became each other's support systems. We did strive to open up to my dad and my mom's family, which of course helped, but there was no other match to how well my sister and I helped each other in this life changing situation. And almost as a distraction, I immersed myself in my school work and after-school activities, which surprisingly landed me at the top of my class for both my freshman and sophomore year. Continuing to push myself through my academics and surrounding myself with people who care about my well-being carried me through the horrendously painful grief I experienced. Visiting these rather tender memories, I cannot express enough how much it has changed me as a person. Throughout the ever evolving process, I find myself experiencing varying emotions, from normal to thoroughly exhausting. And picking up on how I can feel day to day was an engaging learning experience, yet I do it not only for myself, but for others as well. Being aware of what I can do to help a person, with my skill set or my hyperawareness to emotion, makes me feel like a better friend, sister, daughter and fellow student. And evolving my ability to work under pressure, in almost any situation, is something I never expected, but will be grateful for in the present and near future.

It's perceived that grief is a seven step process, but if you have personally experienced such pain, could you honestly say it is that simple? The pain, the sorrow, the confusion, and the guilt, in some cases, can be monumental, and take on a variety of forms. During the second half of my freshman year, in February 2019, I got a call from my dad to come home from my track meet early, which caught me entirely by surprise, as we previously agreed I would stay the entire meet. Despite that, it seemed serious, so I got a ride home within 15 minutes. When I arrived, the emotional pressure of the room my family was in was debilitating, palatable even. I was told to sit with my sister beside me, both of us unaware and unprepared for what news we were to receive. And as my dad spoke, I will never forget the way his voice wavered saying “Mami is gone.” I didn't understand at first because he could have been talking about his mom, or mine, which I didn't live with. But during my moment of shock and confusion, my sister broke down, understandably, and it was then when it hit me. My mom was gone. I was so lost and confused, over and over again repeating “Why? I just texted her hours ago, why?ˮ I had always been aware she had been struggling with mental health issues, but this came out of nowhere for me, even more so knowing she took her own life. I remember, for months after, being so scared and lost without my mother figure, and being hesitant of being vulnerable, as I had to “be strong” for my sister, being the oldest. My family had to walk on eggshells around us, as they weren't sure how we would take it for so long, and truthfully neither did we. Prior to said event, my sister and I were already in therapy for our unfortunately traumatic childhood, so continuing that healing after my mom's passing, it was more restorative than I could have realized. It sounds cliche, but the struggle was real; it still is. Opening up to the only other person who could truly understand where I was during this mental exhaustion, my sister and I became each other's support systems. We did strive to open up to my dad and my mom's family, which of course helped, but there was no other match to how well my sister and I helped each other in this life changing situation. And almost as a distraction, I immersed myself in my school work and after-school activities, which surprisingly landed me at the top of my class for both my freshman and sophomore year. Continuing to push myself through my academics and surrounding myself with people who care about my well-being carried me through the horrendously painful grief I experienced. Visiting these rather tender memories, I cannot express enough how much it has changed me as a person. Throughout the ever evolving process, I find myself experiencing varying emotions, from normal to thoroughly exhausting. And picking up on how I can feel day to day was an engaging learning experience, yet I do it not only for myself, but for others as well. Being aware of what I can do to help a person, with my skill set or my hyperawareness to emotion, makes me feel like a better friend, sister, daughter and fellow student. And evolving my ability to work under pressure, in almost any situation, is something I never expected, but will be grateful for in the present and near future.

It's perceived that grief is a seven step process, but if you have personally experienced such pain, could you honestly say it is that simple? The pain, the sorrow, the confusion, and the guilt, in some cases, can be monumental, and take on a variety of forms. During the second half of my freshman year, in February 2019, I got a call from my dad to come home from my track meet early, which caught me entirely by surprise, as we previously agreed I would stay the entire meet. Despite that, it seemed serious, so I got a ride home within 15 minutes. When I arrived, the emotional pressure of the room my family was in was debilitating, palatable even. I was told to sit with my sister beside me, both of us unaware and unprepared for what news we were to receive. And as my dad spoke, I will never forget the way his voice wavered saying “Mami is gone.” I didn't understand initially because he could have been talking about his mom, or mine, which I didn't live with. But during my moment of shock and confusion, my sister broke down, understandably, and it was then when it hit me. My mom was gone. I was so lost and confused, over and over again repeating “Why? I just texted her hours ago, why?ˮ I had always been aware she had been struggling with mental health issues, but this came out of nowhere for me, even more so knowing she took her own life. I remember, for months after, being so scared and lost without my mother figure, and being hesitant of being vulnerable, as I had to “be strong” for my sister, being the oldest. My family had to walk on eggshells around us, as they weren't sure how we would take it for so long, and truthfully neither did we. Prior to said event, my sister and I were already in therapy for our unfortunately traumatic childhood, so continuing that healing after my mom's passing, it was more restorative than I could have realized. It sounds cliche, but the struggle was real; it still is. Opening up to the only other person who could truly understand where I was during this mental exhaustion, my sister and I became each other's support systems. We did strive to open up to my dad and my mom's family, which of course helped, but there was no other match to how well my sister and I helped each other in this life changing situation. And almost as a distraction, I immersed myself in school work and after-school activities, which surprisingly landed me at the top of my class for the first three years of high school. Continuing to push myself through academics and surrounding myself with people who care about my well-being carried me through the horrendously painful grief I experienced. Visiting these rather tender memories, I cannot express enough how much it has changed me as a person. Throughout the ever evolving process, I find myself experiencing varying emotions, from normal to thoroughly exhausting. And understanding how I feel day to day was an engaging learning experience, yet I do it not only for myself, but for others as well. Being aware of what I can do to help a person, with my skill set or my hyperawareness to emotion, makes me feel like a better friend, sister, daughter and fellow student. And evolving my ability to work under pressure, in almost any situation, is something I never expected, but will be grateful for in the present and near future.

It's perceived that grief is a seven step process, but if you have personally experienced such pain, could you honestly say it is that simple? The pain, the sorrow, the confusion, and the guilt, in some cases, can be monumental, and take on a variety of forms. During the second half of my freshman year, in February 2019, I got a call from my dad to come home from my track meet early, which caught me entirely by surprise, as we previously agreed I would stay the entire meet. Despite that, it seemed serious, so I got a ride home within 15 minutes. When I arrived, the emotional pressure of the room my family was in was debilitating, palatable even. I was told to sit with my sister beside me, both of us unaware and unprepared for what news we were to receive. And as my dad spoke, I will never forget the way his voice wavered saying “Mami is gone.” I didn't understand at first because he could have been talking about his mom, or mine, which I didn't live with. But during my moment of shock and confusion, my sister broke down, understandably, and it was then when it hit me. My mom was gone. I was so lost and confused, over and over again repeating “Why? I just texted her hours ago, why?ˮ I had always been aware she had been struggling with mental health issues, but this came out of nowhere for me, even more so knowing she took her own life. I remember, for months after, being so scared and lost without my mother figure, and being hesitant of being vulnerable, as I had to “be strong” for my sister, being the oldest. My family had to walk on eggshells around us, as they weren't sure how we would take it for so long, and truthfully neither did we. Prior to said event, my sister and I were already in therapy for our unfortunately traumatic childhood, so continuing that healing after my mom's passing, it was more restorative than I could have realized. It sounds cliche, but the struggle was real; it still is. Opening up to the only other person who could truly understand where I was during this mental exhaustion, my sister and I became each other's support systems. We did strive to open up to my dad and my mom's family, which of course helped, but there was no other match to how well my sister and I helped each other in this life changing situation. And almost as a distraction, I immersed myself in my school work and after-school activities, which surprisingly landed me at the top of my class for the first three years in high school. Continuing to push myself through academics and surrounding myself with people who care about my well-being carried me through the horrendously painful grief I experienced. Visiting these rather tender memories, I cannot express enough how much it has changed me as a person. Throughout the ever-evolving process, I find myself experiencing varying emotions, from normal to thoroughly exhausting. And understanding how I can feel day to day was an engaging learning experience, yet I do it not only for myself but for others as well. Being aware of how I can help a person, with my skill set or my hyperawareness to emotion, makes me feel like a better friend, sister, daughter and fellow student. And evolving my ability to work under pressure, in almost any situation, is something I never expected, but will be grateful for in the present and near future.

It's‌ ‌perceived‌ ‌that‌ ‌grief‌ ‌is‌ ‌a‌ ‌seven‌ ‌step‌ ‌process,‌ ‌but‌ ‌if‌ ‌you‌ ‌have‌ ‌personally‌ ‌experienced‌ ‌ such‌ ‌pain,‌ ‌could‌ ‌you‌ ‌honestly‌ ‌say‌ ‌it‌ ‌is‌ ‌that‌ ‌simple?‌ ‌The‌ ‌pain,‌ ‌the‌ ‌sorrow,‌ ‌the‌ ‌confusion,‌ ‌and‌ ‌the‌ ‌ guilt,‌ ‌in‌ ‌some‌ ‌cases,‌ ‌can‌ ‌be‌ ‌monumental,‌ ‌and‌ ‌take‌ ‌on‌ ‌a‌ ‌variety‌ ‌of‌ ‌forms.‌ ‌During‌ ‌the‌ ‌second‌ ‌half‌ ‌ of‌ ‌my‌ ‌freshman‌ ‌year,‌ ‌in‌ ‌February‌ ‌2019,‌ ‌I‌ ‌got‌ ‌a‌ ‌call‌ ‌from‌ ‌my‌ ‌dad‌ ‌to‌ ‌come‌ ‌home‌ ‌from‌ ‌my‌ ‌track‌ ‌ meet‌ ‌early,‌ ‌which‌ ‌caught‌ ‌me‌ ‌entirely‌ ‌by‌ ‌surprise,‌ ‌as‌ ‌we‌ ‌previously‌ ‌agreed‌ ‌I‌ ‌would‌ ‌stay‌ ‌the‌ ‌ entire‌ ‌meet.‌ ‌Despite‌ ‌that,‌ ‌it‌ ‌seemed‌ ‌serious,‌ ‌so‌ ‌I‌ ‌got‌ ‌a‌ ‌ride‌ ‌home‌ ‌within‌ ‌15‌ ‌minutes.‌ ‌When‌ ‌I‌ ‌ arrived,‌ ‌the‌ ‌emotional‌ ‌pressure‌ ‌of‌ ‌the‌ ‌room‌ ‌my‌ ‌family‌ ‌was‌ ‌in‌ ‌was‌ ‌debilitating,‌ ‌palatable‌ ‌even.‌ ‌I‌ ‌ was‌ ‌told‌ ‌to‌ ‌sit‌ ‌with‌ ‌my‌ ‌sister‌ ‌beside‌ ‌me,‌ ‌both‌ ‌of‌ ‌us‌ ‌unaware‌ ‌and‌ ‌unprepared‌ ‌for‌ ‌what‌ ‌news‌ ‌we‌ ‌ were‌ ‌to‌ ‌receive.‌ ‌And‌ ‌as‌ ‌my‌ ‌dad‌ ‌spoke,‌ ‌I‌ ‌will‌ ‌never‌ ‌forget‌ ‌the‌ ‌way‌ ‌his‌ ‌voice‌ ‌wavered‌ ‌saying‌ ‌ “Mami‌ ‌is‌ ‌gone.”‌ ‌I‌ ‌didn't‌ ‌understand‌ ‌at‌ ‌first‌ ‌because‌ ‌he‌ ‌could‌ ‌have‌ ‌been‌ ‌talking‌ ‌about‌ ‌his‌ ‌mom,‌ ‌ or‌ ‌mine,‌ ‌which‌ ‌I‌ ‌didn't‌ ‌live‌ ‌with.‌ ‌But‌ ‌during‌ ‌my‌ ‌moment‌ ‌of‌ ‌shock‌ ‌and‌ ‌confusion,‌ ‌my‌ ‌sister‌ ‌broke‌ ‌ down,‌ ‌understandably,‌ ‌and‌ ‌it‌ ‌was‌ ‌then‌ ‌when‌ ‌it‌ ‌hit‌ ‌me.‌ ‌My‌ ‌mom‌ ‌was‌ ‌gone.‌ ‌I‌ ‌was‌ ‌so‌ ‌lost‌ ‌and‌ ‌ confused,‌ ‌over‌ ‌and‌ ‌over‌ ‌again‌ ‌repeating‌ ‌“Why?‌ ‌I‌ ‌just‌ ‌texted‌ ‌her‌ ‌hours‌ ‌ago,‌ ‌why?ˮ‌ ‌I‌ ‌had‌ ‌always‌ ‌ been‌ ‌aware‌ ‌she‌ ‌had‌ ‌been‌ ‌struggling‌ ‌with‌ ‌mental‌ ‌health‌ ‌issues,‌ ‌but‌ ‌this‌ ‌came‌ ‌out‌ ‌of‌ ‌nowhere‌ ‌for‌ ‌ me,‌ ‌even‌ ‌more‌ ‌so‌ ‌knowing‌ ‌she‌ ‌took‌ ‌her‌ ‌own‌ ‌life.‌ ‌ Prior‌ ‌to‌ ‌said‌ ‌event,‌ ‌my‌ ‌sister‌ ‌and‌ ‌I‌ ‌were‌ ‌already‌ ‌in‌ ‌therapy‌ ‌for‌ ‌our‌ ‌unfortunately‌ ‌ traumatic‌ ‌childhood,‌ ‌so‌ ‌continuing‌ ‌that‌ ‌healing‌ ‌after‌ ‌my‌ ‌mom's‌ ‌passing,‌ ‌it‌ ‌was‌ ‌more‌ ‌restorative‌ ‌ than‌ ‌I‌ ‌could‌ ‌have‌ ‌realized.‌ ‌It‌ ‌sounds‌ ‌cliche,‌ ‌but‌ ‌the‌ ‌struggle‌ ‌was‌ ‌real;‌ ‌it‌ ‌still‌ ‌is.‌ ‌Opening‌ ‌up‌ ‌to‌ ‌ the‌ ‌only‌ ‌other‌ ‌person‌ ‌who‌ ‌could‌ ‌truly‌ ‌understand‌ ‌where‌ ‌I‌ ‌was‌ ‌during‌ ‌this‌ ‌mental‌ ‌exhaustion,‌ ‌my‌ ‌ sister‌ ‌and‌ ‌I‌ ‌became‌ ‌each‌ ‌other's‌ ‌support‌ ‌systems.‌ ‌We‌ ‌did‌ ‌strive‌ ‌to‌ ‌open‌ ‌up‌ ‌to‌ ‌my‌ ‌dad‌ ‌and‌ ‌my‌ ‌ mom's‌ ‌family,‌ ‌which‌ ‌of‌ ‌course‌ ‌helped,‌ ‌but‌ ‌there‌ ‌was‌ ‌no‌ ‌other‌ ‌match‌ ‌to‌ ‌how‌ ‌well‌ ‌my‌ ‌sister‌ ‌and‌ ‌I‌ ‌ helped‌ ‌each‌ ‌other‌ ‌in‌ ‌this‌ ‌life‌ ‌changing‌ ‌situation.‌ ‌And‌ ‌almost‌ ‌as‌ ‌a‌ ‌distraction,‌ ‌I‌ ‌immersed‌ ‌myself‌ ‌ in‌ ‌my‌ ‌school‌ ‌work‌ ‌and‌ ‌after-school‌ ‌activities,‌ ‌which‌ ‌surprisingly‌ ‌landed‌ ‌me‌ ‌at‌ ‌the‌ ‌top‌ ‌of‌ ‌my‌ ‌ class‌ ‌for‌ ‌both‌ ‌my‌ ‌freshman‌ ‌and‌ ‌sophomore‌ ‌year.‌ ‌Continuing‌ ‌to‌ ‌push‌ ‌myself‌ ‌through‌ ‌my‌ ‌ academics‌ ‌and‌ ‌surrounding‌ ‌myself‌ ‌with‌ ‌people‌ ‌who‌ ‌care‌ ‌about‌ ‌my‌ ‌well-being‌ ‌carried‌ ‌me‌ ‌ through‌ ‌the‌ ‌horrendously‌ ‌painful‌ ‌grief‌ ‌I‌ ‌experienced.‌ ‌ Visiting‌ ‌these‌ ‌rather‌ ‌tender‌ ‌memories,‌ ‌I‌ ‌cannot‌ ‌express‌ ‌enough‌ ‌how‌ ‌much‌ ‌it‌ ‌has‌ ‌ changed‌ ‌me‌ ‌as‌ ‌a‌ ‌person.‌ ‌Throughout‌ ‌the‌ ‌ever‌ ‌evolving‌ ‌process,‌ ‌I‌ ‌find‌ ‌myself‌ ‌experiencing‌ ‌ varying‌ ‌emotions,‌ ‌from‌ ‌normal‌ ‌to‌ ‌thoroughly‌ ‌exhausting.‌ ‌And‌ ‌picking‌ ‌up‌ ‌on‌ ‌how‌ ‌I‌ ‌can‌ ‌feel‌ each ‌day‌ ‌was‌ ‌an‌ ‌engaging‌ ‌learning‌ ‌experience,‌ ‌yet‌ ‌I‌ ‌do‌ ‌it‌ ‌not‌ ‌only‌ ‌for‌ ‌myself,‌ ‌but‌ ‌for‌ ‌others‌ ‌as‌ ‌ well.‌ ‌Being‌ ‌aware‌ ‌of‌ ‌what‌ ‌I‌ ‌can‌ ‌do‌ ‌to‌ ‌help‌ ‌a‌ ‌person,‌ ‌with‌ ‌my‌ ‌skill‌ ‌set‌ ‌or‌ ‌my‌ ‌hyperawareness‌ ‌to‌ ‌ emotion,‌ ‌makes‌ ‌me‌ ‌feel‌ ‌like‌ ‌a‌ ‌better‌ ‌friend,‌ ‌sister,‌ ‌daughter‌ ‌and‌ ‌fellow‌ ‌student.‌ ‌And‌ ‌evolving‌ ‌my‌ ‌ ability‌ ‌to‌ ‌work‌ ‌under‌ ‌pressure,‌ ‌in‌ ‌almost‌ ‌any‌ ‌situation,‌ ‌is‌ ‌something‌ ‌I‌ ‌never‌ ‌expected,‌ ‌but‌ ‌will‌ ‌be‌ ‌ grateful‌ ‌for‌ ‌in‌ ‌the‌ ‌present‌ ‌and‌ ‌near‌ ‌future.‌

It sounds cliche, but good things come to those who wait. The past few years, my education has taken a quite abnormal route, the pandemic taking almost two years of my high school life online. It was unbearable knowing I could never get those years back in my grasp, so instead, I worked even harder. Keeping my grades consistently high, finally finding the time to work on myself, searching for any opportunity to further any aspect of myself. And finally, the biggest opportunity came, an acceptance to the University of Texas at Austin in November of 2021. I was completely elated and felt extremely satisfied, knowing that my hard work staying in the top 10 of my class got me to my dream school, being able to pursue an education that I made possible. Patience and hard work got me here, who knows where else it can get me?

Truthfully, mental health is such a major but unspoken subject that has affected millions of people. It has no discrimination among class, race, religion, or gender. And my mother was no exception. Ever since my mom was in her early teens, she struggled with early bipolar depression and schizophrenia. I have no knowledge of and will never know of her truth, but I know enough to know she was a life that was meant to be great before it abruptly ended. She joined the military at 17, met my father, and had me at the young age of 19. My mother knew she couldn't deprive a child of life, so she had an honorable discharge to have me. Two years later, she had my sister. And as grateful as she was to give my sister and I life, she was declining. After my parents split when I was 4, my mom had custody of my sister and I. During one of her episodes, she, being the selfless and loving mother she was, drove 8 hours to give us to my dad with all of our belongings. Some may see this as her giving up on her children, but she wanted to give us the best chance possible at life. For years after, it was a constant back and forth battle of her illness. She had my two half-brothers soon after. And it ended up the same way. Once she lost custody of us, she was truly alone. She visited us when she could, and showed us endless amounts of love from afar. Yet she was continuing to suffer, until she took her own life in 2019. I tore myself down for months after, wanting to change what couldn't be changed. But after almost two years of thinking, I realized providing her story and mine would help console those who might be suffering as well. Suffering alone is the worst kind of suffering. Whether it be from a pain no one could understand, or loss that anyone can feel, reaching out to talk saves not only your life, but countless others.