I always wondered if there was something implanted in me at birth, something that could explain the emptiness that grew into a nothingness I hid in for most of my life. I was 9 years old the first time I took a blade to my skin. My mom found out a month later and asked me if I was crazy because only a crazy person would do something like this. The shame inside me grew as I shrunk into my sadness. I learned to hide this cry for help, my need for love and the expression of pain I was in because I didn’t wanna be labeled crazy. From the ages of 12 to 17, I developed a routine of swallowing handfuls of pills in the night in hopes the morrow wouldn't survive. Yet, the morrow would always arrive and more than once it would be accompanied by a sorrow I thought I would never escape. It wasn't until 2020, my senior year of High School that my secret was revealed and I was rushed into the ER. After a few rounds of getting my stomach pumped I was admitted to a Psychiatric unit. After a week of shameful stares, nursing students treating me like a science experiment and registered nurses determining all I wanted was attention I went home feeling worse than when I was first admitted. Covid hit and all I had was time. After a year and a half of self-destruction, I got tired of living in this constant pain. My mother helped me believe in myself enough to apply to art schools. When I got accepted into SAIC I promised myself to work towards a life worth living. It was my love of films and stories that helped me rewrite mine. I started to tell my story in short films that I would write, act, film and edit. I took the time to get to know myself, I walked along the seashore till I ran out of sand and most importantly I started to forgive myself. My art has helped me heal wounds that once lived in the rip currents of my subconscious. It has given me the courage to reach out for help and stay motivated toward a future I thought would never exist. As I finish my associates with a GPA of 3.9 and get ready to transfer in the fall I feel overwhelmingly blessed by the second chance I have been given in life. Once I graduate from SAIC I can focus on telling the story not everyone has lived to tell. My career in Film Production gives me a platform to spread awareness nationwide. To this day, especially in immigrant communities, mental health is nothing but the loony bin. I wanna change this, I want to be a living display that things can get better. I want little girls who feel like I did to know they are strong enough to overcome the nothingness they feel drenched in. I wanna show my 9-year-old self that there is no need to try and outrun the feeling because we are strong enough to face it and to heal from it. I wanna turn my passion into my career, my sanctuary and most importantly an opportunity to help heal the world around me.

I was five years old when we sold everything in our single-room apartment and immigrated to the United States from Guadalajara Mexico. We moved to a two-bedroom apartment that we had to share with four other people and although home always seemed so busy it was always just me and my mom. She worked a lot and growing up the only time I would get to be with her was the weekends. To say the lack of a father didn't affect me emotionally would be a lie but my mother was always there to remind me that I could still have a happy and successful life without his presence. She would work up my confidence and tell me it was his loss in the situation. Regardless of all the support and unconditional love, I felt an emptiness growing inside of me. I needed to talk, to express, to escape so my mother put me in dance lessons when I was eight years old. Dancing allowed me to tell my story. When I was 12 years old and my mother lost her job she began working at the dance academy I was attending so I could continue to take my class. In everyday experiences, my mother taught me about sacrifice, commitment and dedication. I was 14 the first time I had access to a camera 24/7. I wanted to capture everything, I didn't wanna leave it up to my brain to record all my memories. When I was 16, l got accepted into the video production class at my High School. This inspired my mother to work harder, stand up for herself and fight for a promotion. She was determined to help me tell my story in any medium I wanted. Her overtime hours became the best Christmas present I have ever gotten. When I opened the box and saw a brand new camera I felt my heart glow. I knew that I was unstoppable because I had someone building a foundation for me before I was even born. She refused to be a stereotype or a statistic and fought every day to remind me I am more than just my past, my story and my fears. Fast forward to 2022 when I got my acceptance letter to The Art Institute of Chicago and I was devastated thinking I wouldn't be able to attend due to our financial circumstances. When I wanted to give up my mother pushed me to keep going, she insisted I defer and complete my first two years at community college. I saw how she believed in me so I continued to fight for my dreams. Now in 2023 as I finish up my associate's with a 3.9 GPA I am so grateful I had her to guide me and now my goal in life is to share our story. I am tired of society's negative view of single mothers and I plan to change that in whatever way I can. By attending SAIC and concentrating on my career in Film I will be able to build a platform that will allow me to tell not only my story but one that thousands of women can relate to. Growing up people believed that there was no need for stories like mine with faces like ours on the big screen. I want to challenge that, I want to speak up for every woman that was silenced. I wanna make little girls like me feel seen, show them the power of their story and most importantly I want to make them feel proud of their upbringing.