Growing up, like most American children, the quality of the food I ate rarely crossed my mind. My body was like a taxi cab that I used to get from Point A to Point B. I did not realize until much later that I own that vehicle and must learn how to maintain it properly. The first time I was introduced to healthy eating as a habit was in 2013, shortly after my uncle passed away to cancer. My mom was devastated because my uncle, her brother, was only 46 years old. She began to research what we were routinely buying at the grocery store. As she began to expand her knowledge of artificial sugars, pesticides, and GMOs, I began to see changes within the inside of our refrigerator- apples and berries in place of Go-Gurt tubes, pasture-raised eggs in place of name brand eggs, teas in place of sodas. Though I was eating higher-quality food thanks to my mom, I had still not changed my personal outlook on food. I continued through middle and high school to eat on autopilot. I ate whatever was in the pantry, whatever my friends gave me, whatever was in the complimentary snack bins in waiting rooms, whatever was convenient, and whatever was in front of me. Food was a celebratory tool for my highs and a distraction from my lows. I was still among the 75% of Americans that are addicted to sugar and more than half of my diet was composed of processed junk from fast food restaurants and candy aisles. I was ignorant and lazy about my poor eating habits. It was only about a year or so ago that I finally started to reflect on my physical shape. I had grown accustomed to waking up groggy every morning and barely having enough energy to make it through the day, despite consuming caffeine and/or sugar daily. I began with baby steps like drinking water over sugary drinks and having homemade smoothies for breakfast over cereal. I want to make this way of eating my forever lifestyle because I have already seen positive changes in my overall health after applying small adjustments in my diet. I sleep better and wake up refreshed; I have more energy; my motivation to complete fitness goals has exponentially grown to the point where there is significant execution of those goals; my self image and mental health are finally healing; my relationship with food, although still improving, is better than ever before. As I create more healthy habits, I will help myself maintain them by continually educating myself on nutrition, food, and physical health. Alongside the many books I enjoy reading about this subject matter, I am beginning my first semester at Tarrant County College to study Dietetics. There, I will learn abundantly more than I already have about nutrition throughout my life cycle and pairing it with good fitness habits. Furthermore, I will learn how to help others to eat well and teach them to apply important food habits into their home in practical, compelling ways. The journey ahead of me is still long, but I desire for my health to be a complete 180° from where it was a year ago. In order for me to achieve all my career, relationship, and personal development goals, I know my physical body must be in a state to do so, and nutrition is the most crucial aspect to maintaining great physical health.

Growing up, like most American children, the quality of the food I ate rarely crossed my mind. My body was like a taxi cab that I used to get from Point A to Point B. I did not realize until much later that I own that vehicle and must learn how to maintain it properly. The first time I was introduced to healthy eating as a habit was in 2013, shortly after my uncle passed away to cancer. My mom was devastated because my uncle, her brother, was only 46 years old. She began to research what we were routinely buying at the grocery store. As she began to expand her knowledge of artificial sugars, pesticides, and GMOs, I began to see changes within the inside of our refrigerator- apples and berries in place of Go-Gurt tubes, pasture-raised eggs in place of name brand eggs, teas in place of sodas. Though I was eating higher-quality food thanks to my mom, I had still not changed my personal outlook on food. I continued through middle and high school to eat on autopilot. I ate whatever was in the pantry, whatever my friends gave me, whatever was in the complimentary snack bins in waiting rooms, whatever was convenient, and whatever was in front of me. Food was a celebratory tool for my highs and a distraction from my lows. I was still among the 75% of Americans that are addicted to sugar and more than half of my diet was composed of processed junk from fast food restaurants and candy aisles. I was ignorant and lazy about my poor eating habits. It was only about a year or so ago that I finally started to reflect on my physical shape. I had grown accustomed to waking up groggy every morning and barely having enough energy to make it through the day, despite consuming caffeine and/or sugar daily. I began with baby steps like drinking water over sugary drinks and having homemade smoothies for breakfast over cereal. I want to make this way of eating my forever lifestyle because I have already seen positive changes in my overall health after applying small adjustments in my diet. I sleep better and wake up refreshed; I have more energy; my motivation to complete fitness goals has exponentially grown to the point where there is significant execution of those goals; my self image and mental health are finally healing; my relationship with food, although still improving, is better than ever before. As I create more healthy habits, I will help myself maintain them by continually educating myself on nutrition, food, and physical health. Alongside the many books I enjoy reading about this subject matter, I am beginning my first semester at Tarrant County College to study Dietetics. There, I will learn abundantly more than I already have about nutrition throughout my life cycle and pairing it with good fitness habits. Furthermore, I will learn how to help others to eat well and teach them to apply important food habits into their home in practical, compelling ways. The journey ahead of me is still long, but I desire for my health to be a complete 180° from where it was a year ago. In order for me to achieve all my career, relationship, and personal development goals, I know my physical body must be in a state to do so, and nutrition is the most crucial aspect to maintaining great physical health.

When my brother took his own life, it was sudden. He had no diagnosed mental illness; his friends knew little about the chaos in his head; he didn’t leave a note or even drop hints. We were left with virtually nothing. Because of this, my mind was left to ponder over everything about our relationship, and I was filled with guilt, regret, and anger at myself and at him. For a while, the only thing that got me up in the morning was the comfort I found in music, which portrayed the complicated feelings with which I overflowed. My time was spent coasting aimlessly through the rest of my junior year of high school and following mundane routines just to get back to bed. I was void of joy and purpose. That finally started to change six months after my brother’s passing. A large contributor in my perseverance through the past few years is realizing that my brother’s story did not have to die with him. The most negative thing to happen to me could have an overwhelming positive impact on hundreds of people or more. In the fall of 2019, I began advocating for mental health and suicide awareness alongside my family with the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention (AFSP). I participate in all their local community walks in my metroplex and help raise thousands of dollars for suicide prevention, education, research, and public policy through social media and utilizing the large network of my brother’s supporters. My family and I created our team, Limelights, within AFSP in honor of my brother, after one of his favorite Rush songs. Hours before the start of each walk, you can find me setting up water stations, merch tables, and even our own Limelights table where we hand out our famous Star Cookies to remind participants that they are a light in the world. I even advocated with my mom for the implementation of Hope Squad, a student-led suicide prevention program, in our local school district, including my brother’s high school. I look forward every year to showing up for those that are hurting in new ways, but volunteering with AFSP every fall continues to be my favorite. As my passion for mental health grew, I slowly began to heal. AFSP not only taught me that my brother has an ongoing impact, but also that while my journey is not linear, it gets easier each day. I learned to be gracious with myself and my expectations by practicing patience with my future. In the realm of my education, I learned to balance school with my mental health, which ultimately is bringing me further than I thought possible. After a horrible junior year, I did not believe that college could be an option for me– someone who did not feel smart or worthy enough of such an accomplishment. But after working on myself and using the service and encouragement of others as my soul’s medicine, I am about to complete my first summer course with an A+ and begin my fall semester as a freshman, all while working full-time. And, I am in the best physical, spiritual, and mental shape I have ever been in. With the financial assistance of this scholarship, I am determined to obtain my Nutrition degree by 2024 and continue helping others become their best selves through great physical and mental health.

When my brother left us, we were left with virtually nothing. He had no diagnosed mental illness; his friends knew little about his struggles; he didn’t leave a note or drop hints. Because of this, my mind was left to ponder over everything about our relationship, and I became filled with guilt, regret, and anger at myself and at him. For a while, I survived on the comfort I found in music, which portrayed the complicated feelings with which I overflowed. My time was spent coasting aimlessly through the rest of my junior year of high school and following mundane routines just to get back to bed. I was void of joy and purpose. That started to change six months after my brother’s passing. A large contributor in my perseverance through the past few years is realizing that my brother’s story did not die with him. The most negative thing to happen to me could have an overwhelming positive impact on hundreds of people. In the fall of 2019, I began advocating for mental health and suicide awareness with the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention (AFSP). I participate in all their local community walks in my metroplex and help raise thousands of dollars for suicide prevention, education, research, and public policy through social media and utilizing the large network of my brother’s supporters. My family and I created our team, Limelights, within AFSP in his honor. Hours before each walk, you can find me setting up water stations, merch tables, and even our own Limelights table where we hand out our famous Star Cookies to remind participants that they are light in the darkness. I also helped advocate for the implementation of Hope Squad, a student-led suicide prevention program, in our local school district, including my brother’s high school. As my passion for mental health grew, I began to heal. AFSP not only taught me that my brother’s impact is ongoing, but also that while my journey is not linear, it gets easier each day. I learned to be gracious with myself and my expectations by practicing patience with my future. In the realm of my education, I learned to balance school with my mental health, which ultimately is bringing me further than I thought possible. After a horrible junior year, I did not believe that college was an option for me– someone who did not feel smart or worthy of such an accomplishment. But after working on myself and using the service and encouragement of others as my soul’s medicine, I am completing my first summer course with an A+ and beginning my fall semester as a freshman, all while working full-time. And, I am in the best physical, spiritual, and mental shape I have ever been in. With the financial assistance of this scholarship, I am determined to obtain my Nutrition degree by 2024 and continue helping others become their best selves through excellent physical and mental health. The greatest piece of advice I could give to someone who is currently experiencing the pain of their sibling’s loss by suicide is to not stop talking. Do not stop talking about them, their life, their death, and their legacy. Do not stop talking about their personality, their talents, their smile, their laugh, and their quirks. And do not forget to talk about your own mental health so you can receive support from people that understand and care. Your story and the stories of our loved ones are exactly what this world needs to hear, and what we need to break the mental health stigma and overcome the suicide pandemic.

Growing up, like most American children, the quality of the food I ate rarely crossed my mind. My body was like a taxi cab that I used to get from Point A to Point B. I did not realize until much later that I own that vehicle and must learn how to maintain it properly. The first time I was introduced to healthy eating as a habit was in 2013, shortly after my uncle passed away to cancer. My mom was devastated because my uncle, her brother, was only 46 years old. She began to research what we were routinely buying at the grocery store. As she began to expand her knowledge of artificial sugars, pesticides, and GMOs, I began to see changes within the inside of our refrigerator- apples and berries in place of Go-Gurt tubes, pasture-raised eggs in place of name brand eggs, teas in place of sodas. Though I was eating higher-quality food thanks to my mom, I had still not changed my personal outlook on food. I continued through middle and high school to eat on autopilot. I ate whatever was in the pantry, whatever my friends gave me, whatever was in the complimentary snack bins in waiting rooms, whatever was convenient, and whatever was in front of me. Food was a celebratory tool for my highs and a distraction from my lows. I was still among the 75% of Americans that are addicted to sugar and more than half of my diet was composed of processed junk from fast food restaurants and candy aisles. I was ignorant and lazy about my poor eating habits. It was only about a year or so ago that I finally started to reflect on my physical shape. I had grown accustomed to waking up groggy every morning and barely having enough energy to make it through the day, despite consuming caffeine and/or sugar daily. I began with baby steps like drinking water over sugary drinks and having homemade smoothies for breakfast over cereal. I want to make this way of eating my forever lifestyle because I have already seen positive changes in my overall health after applying small adjustments in my diet. I sleep better and wake up refreshed; I have more energy; my motivation to complete fitness goals has exponentially grown to the point where there is significant execution of those goals; my self image and mental health are finally healing; my relationship with food, although still improving, is better than ever before. As I create more healthy habits, I will help myself maintain them by continually educating myself on nutrition, food, and physical health. Alongside the many books I enjoy reading about this subject matter, I am beginning my first semester at Tarrant County College to study Dietetics. There, I will learn abundantly more than I already have about nutrition throughout my life cycle and pairing it with good fitness habits. Furthermore, I will learn how to help others to eat well and teach them to apply important food habits into their home in practical, compelling ways. The journey ahead of me is still long, but I desire for my health to be a complete 180° from where it was a year ago. In order for me to achieve all my career, relationship, and personal development goals, I know my physical body must be in a state to do so, and nutrition is the most crucial aspect to maintaining great physical health.

As my first college semester grows near, I cannot deny that a wave of nervousness and anxiety comes over me when I think about school. I graduated high school two years ago and am attending an out-of-county college, so making friends may be a difficult and uncomfortable situation for me. I will continue to work full-time to support my academic needs yet I worry that I may overwhelm myself. I have struggled with feelings of isolation and hopelessness in the past as a result of simultaneous financial and academic demand, but am determined to make this semester different. Because neither my parents, grandparents, or siblings ever went to college, I feel a noble responsibility to them and to myself to make them proud by getting a degree. Despite the challenges that lie ahead, I have faith that I will succeed in everything I do. That is a prayer I recite every morning in the weeks preceding school. But while I await the execution of that prayer, I’ve learned to put my mind at ease in other ways. One of my favorite practices is waking up very early, before anyone else, and spending time outside. Waking up at 5 or 6 AM and watching the world wake up is a tranquil time and I do this every day so I can start with a relaxed mind. It helps my overall mood and motivation. While outside, I pray, read, or simply engulf myself in nature watching vibrant colors paint the morning sky and wind blow the palm leaves in the backyard. Two people are better off than one, which is why I often find solace in my friends when life feels heavy. I know it’s important to keep my support system close, especially when I feel my mental health weighing on me. My favorite way to do this is by volunteering with the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention (AFSP). After losing my brother to suicide in 2019, I began participating in and volunteering at their local community walks to raise awareness and funds for suicide education and mental health support. I have met the most amazing people through AFSP who understand my struggle and walk with me step by step. Talking with them is a great way to receive encouragement and advice, and keep me from bottling up my emotions. I discovered that I can positively impact my mental health before storms come when I take care of my physical health. Fueling my body with hardy, nutritious foods helps my ambition and self-image immensely. When I put good food in, I feel the good come out through my actions and attitude. I guess you really are what you eat! I am excited to go to school to study Dietetics for this reason. I know that learning how to feed my body better will serve me for the rest of my life, and I am even more excited to learn how to teach others about their health too. I love helping people attain their goals and nutrition is a sizable way to influence their health, lifestyle, career, and personal goals. I have begun to make these mental health tips into habits over the last few years. I want to maintain a healthy and peaceful mind so I can walk through life confidently and with sharp focus and gratitude. Winning this scholarship would allow me to assign more time to my mind and body by relieving me of financial pressure. Though, whatever happens, I am set on persevering through my degree plan and taking every opportunity to learn new things and grow my character.

Considering there’s a lot to handle nowadays in middle and high school- developing brains, peer pressure, demanding schoolwork and extracurriculars, school shooting threats, a pandemic - it’s no wonder that one in five teens suffer from at least one mental health disorder. After losing my 15 year-old brother to suicide during high school, I became involved with mental health awareness and advocacy. I learned of Hope Squad- a student-led suicide prevention group where students are nominated by their peers to receive training on spotting warning signs of distress and how to intervene. I have advocated for the inclusion of Hope Squad in my city’s high schools and have witnessed a reversal effect in our local mental health stigma. A feasible action plan for helping people who are struggling with their mental health is implementing these programs into the school system. Since teenagers and young adults struggle with mental illness more than other age groups, they should be sought first. Unfortunately, many parents and adults do not realize that their kids are struggling so it can be difficult to seek help for them. With Hope Squad, students have other people their age- in whom they are more likely to seek solace- that they can trust to listen and assist. Because members must be nominated by the student body, every clique is represented and those chosen will be people who others believe are kind and active listeners. Therefore, a school-wide culture of support and encouragement is created and teens feel less alone. The content that Hope Squad members learn and how it can be applied can be carried into adulthood and passed down. The whole world could be changed because of a few bold young leaders that decided to step up to be a beacon of love and inspiration to others.

The pro-life position was always a standard in my family. We all grew up as Christians that strive to love others unconditionally, no matter how big or small. I believe in honoring the sanctity of pre-born life and stand firmly by that. However, I still took the value of life for granted throughout most of my teenage years. But when I was seventeen years old, my world was flipped upside down when my younger brother took his own life. Since then, I’ve learned a great deal about the mental health crisis and have taken steps to raise awareness about it, such as fundraising through the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention for mental health education and suicide prevention programs, and participating in community walks to support those affected by suicide. As I learned more, I couldn’t help but notice how similar the mental health and pro-life movements are. Both recognize a massive epidemic that kills thousands each year, and both have diverse and unapologetic advocates that are exceedingly passionate about saving lives. Can you imagine if these movements were combined? That’s what pro-life should look like. My experiences with losing my brother and participating in the mental health crusade have challenged me to think of the pro-life movement as one that represents every stage of life: protect the unborn, nourish them throughout their childhood, and help them and their mothers prosper for the rest of their lives. As much as we like to promote things like the foster care system and shelters for pregnant women and single mothers in attempts to change minds about abortion, we don’t support these resources effectively enough. Up to eighty percent of foster care children suffer with mental health issues and one in eight women who have recently given birth experience symptoms of postpartum depression. The latter could be significantly higher for women who have been sexually assaulted. The only way to be truly and fully pro-life is to take the same encouragement that is given outside abortion clinics and in pro-life rallies and also apply it beyond the births of babies. This practice can be exercised in a vast combination of ways. We can call for reform in the foster care system; we can walk alongside women needing emotional and financial help throughout their pregnancies, and continue to do the same even after the births of their babies; we can make therapy more accessible and affordable for women and children; we can be open to conversations about their mental health so that we can support them (a habit I made with my friends and peers). Being unafraid to have real conversations about mental health is a major step in helping others feel safe, cared for, and valued. All this could be the most crucial detail work in the fight for the tiniest and most vulnerable group of people there is. “Life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness” is one of pro-lifers’ favorite phrases, and for good reason. We fight for life so that all people can recognize liberty so in applying for this scholarship, I can be sure to take action steps to prove that I support everyone’s pursuit of happiness, both inside and outside the womb.

Of all the tasks my family had to tackle following my brother’s suicide, cleaning out his room was a more difficult one. I helped pack up his drawings, paintings, books, and music all while sifting through the contents trying to find answers. During my search, one thing stood out. On the inside cover of his Bible, his scratchy handwriting read “Be open to the fact that you don’t know everything.” He probably just heard it in church, but that still didn’t seem like it’d come from him- a know-it-all perfectionist. When he left us, it was sudden. He never admitted feelings of depression; his friends didn’t suspect anything; he didn’t leave a note or hints. We were left with virtually nothing. Now he’s telling me to be okay not knowing the answers? Why? During the first few weeks after his death, I just took that phrase as a coincidental piece of grief advice to give me temporary peace, at least for the funeral. But what about when the shock blows over and I “get over it?” What about when six months have passed and I still miss him? Or a year? When I’m sitting on the bathroom floor at my job trying to escape the unorganized chaos, feeling like I’ll be stuck there forever? What about when my friends become increasingly busy, and I feel alone? Does anyone still care? Or what about when I consider myself a failure in college and feel I picked the wrong major? But I can’t just drop out because what would my professors think? Or my parents? How dumb would I look with no idea of what I want to do with my life? And now I can’t even talk to my brother about it or laugh with him to distract myself. Why did he get away with this? Is there anything that is going right? In the middle of that chapter in my life, I remembered, for the first time in a while, what he wrote. “Be open to the fact that you don’t know everything.” I finally realized the implication of those words beyond the circumstances of his death. My job is frustrating but it’s not fair to believe that I’m stuck here. I’m just in a transition spot for my next job. My friends are busy, but there could be other things going on. Maybe I could check in with them first. After all, it’s not easy doing life alone. And maybe I did pick the wrong major. My interest is fading and the program isn’t working out like I planned. So what? I’m young. Of course I don’t have everything figured out. I don’t need to. All that matters is that I don’t give up. That is faith- trusting in the process to lead you to victory- and my brother taught me more about that than anyone else. Faith fuels resiliency, and resiliency increases my endurance in difficult or painful situations. Ultimately, faith keeps me going. When storms come, I believe that although things aren’t going according to the series of events I imagined, this could be a part of a different outcome. Perhaps, a greater one. I use faith as my rock in all areas of my life because it empowers me. It screams “Lia, you will succeed!” So when I’m writing scholarship essays in hopes of winning my college tuition, I have faith. When I nervously enroll for classes in my new major, I have fatih. When I’m fumbling through career ideas, I have faith. If I work hard, I will triumph over everything I touch.

1. In 1930, the Republican-controlled House of Representatives, in an effort to alleviate the effects of the Great Depression, passed the Hawley-Smoot Tariff Act which raised tariffs in an effort to collect more revenue for the federal government. However, it did not work, and the United States sank deeper into the Great Depression. 2. I generally title Abbey Road as my favorite Beatles’ album but you cannot deny the massive impact their other albums had on rock music. For example, "Helter Skelter" off the White Album is credited with heavily influencing what we now know as heavy rock, and possibly punk rock too. 3. The FitnessGram Pacer Test is a multistage aerobic capacity test that progressively gets more difficult as it continues. The 20 meter pacer test will begin in 30 seconds. Line up at the start. The running speed starts slowly, but gets faster each minute after you hear this signal. [beep] A single lap should be completed each time you hear this sound. [ding]

On February 20, 2019, my brother, Jesse, committed suicide. No note or hints. We were left with virtually nothing. When we cleaned out his room, we discovered “be open to the fact that you don’t know everything” written on the inside cover of his Bible. He probably heard it during church, but that still didn’t seem like something he’d say. Jesse was a perfectionist. He needed to know all the answers. Now suddenly he’s telling me to be okay not knowing the answers? Why? And why now? For a while, I forgot about it. I thought I had “gotten over it.” But what about when I’m sitting on the bathroom floor at my job trying to escape the unorganized chaos? I could be stuck working here forever. What about when my friends become less present, and I feel alone? Or when I feel like a failure in college, with no idea of what I want to do? And I can’t even talk to my brother about it. Is there anything in my life that isn’t wrong? One day, I remembered what he wrote. I realized the implication of those words, beyond his death. My job is frustrating but it’s unfair to believe things won’t get better or that I’m stuck here. My friends are busy, but there could be other things going on. I could be the first to check in with them. Maybe I did pick the wrong major. My interest is fading and I don’t know what I’m doing. So what? I’m young. Of course I don’t have everything figured out. I don’t need to. All that matters is that I don’t give up. That is faith- trusting in the process to lead you to the outcome- and Jesse taught me more about that than anyone else.

“Lia.” I felt a small tap on my shoulder and turned in my seat to face my classmate behind me. “Did you hear about what happened at McMillen High School?” I shook my head innocently. That question sounded familiar. I reread a text that was sent to me a few minutes earlier: Hey did you hear about the incident at McMillen? Another text came through: Someone tried to commit. I heard more whispers behind me calling my name. “Someone tried to kill themselves.” A group of students gave me concerned looks as more rumors were exchanged and realization set in. My principal, whom I’d never met, excused me from class and I departed with a tall lady in a black detective jacket to go to the children’s hospital. Almost exactly forty-eight hours later, my brother, Jesse, was pronounced dead at fifteen years old. Suicide. Of all the tasks my family had to tackle in the following days, cleaning out his room was a more difficult one. But I also had fun while doing it. I rediscovered my brother’s genius that he’d been hiding. He enjoyed playing many instruments, making music, drawing, and painting from an early age, but increasingly kept it secret from his family when he got older, as teenagers often do. However, one thing stood out from the other words and doodles in his sketch pads, textbooks, and homework. On the inside cover of his Bible, his scratchy handwriting read “Be open to the fact that you don’t know everything.” Now, when he left us, it was sudden. He had no diagnosed mental illness; never admitted feelings of depression or anxiety to his family; his friends knew very little about the chaos in his head. He didn’t leave a note. No hints. We were left with virtually nothing. So when I read that footnote, I read it again. And again. And again. It didn’t seem real. He’d grown up in church, same as all of us. He probably just heard it somewhere during Sunday service or summer camp. But still, that didn’t seem like it’d come from him. Jesse was a bit of a perfectionist. He needed everything to be a certain way or it wasn’t right. He needed to solve problems on his own or something was wrong with him. He needed to know all the answers or he’d get very frustrated. Now he’s telling me to be okay not knowing the answers all of the sudden? Why? And in the very front of his Bible? And why was the same phrase written at least five other times throughout the other pages? During the first few weeks after his death, I just took it as a coincidental piece of grief advice to give me temporary peace, at least for the funeral and final exams. But what about after that, when the shock blows over and I “get over it?” What about when I’m sitting on the bathroom floor at my job trying to escape being treated like dirt? And I know I want out, but with what skills or experience? I could be stuck here forever. What about when my friends become increasingly busy and less present, leaving me alone most of the time? Does anyone still care? Or what about when I’m on the verge of breaking down in my college class because I feel like a failure and that I picked the wrong major? But I can’t just drop out. What would my professors and classmates think? Or my parents? How dumb would I look not being in college, with no idea what I want to do with my life? And now I can’t even talk to my brother about it or goof off with him to distract myself. Is there anything in my life that is going right? Why did God let him get away with this? It seemed every time I had a problem, my mind would circle back to Jesse- how I wished I could talk to him and have him here. One day, after one of these instances, I stopped. I thought of what he wrote, something I hadn’t remembered in some time- “Be open to the fact that you don’t know everything.” I finally realized that maybe those words didn’t only apply to the circumstances surrounding his death. Yes, my job is frustrating but it’s not fair to believe that I can’t do better. I’m not stuck here. I’m just in a transition spot for my next job, whatever it may be. Yes, my friends are busy with school, but there could be other things going on. Maybe I could be the first one to reach out and check in with them. After all, it’s not easy doing life alone. And maybe I did pick the wrong major. My interest is fading and the program isn’t working out like I thought it would. So what? I’m so young. Of course I don’t have everything figured out, and I don’t need to. I have no idea what’s in store for me and that’s okay. I’ll find out when the time is right. All that matters is that I don’t give up. That is faith- trusting in the process to lead you to the outcome- and Jesse taught me more about that than anyone else. My brother made a choice, but it doesn’t mean that God wrote his life out of a master plan. The same can be applied to my personal struggles, however great or insignificant they are. I can propose ideas regarding college or my career choice or my relationships and work at them with everything I have. But when storms come, I also must possess faith that although it’s not going according to the series of events I imagined, this could be a part of a different plan. Perhaps, a greater one. Who am I to play God? So be open to the fact that you don’t know everything, and have faith.

“Lia.” I felt a small tap on my shoulder and turned in my seat to face my classmate behind me. “Did you hear about what happened at McMillen High School?” I shook my head innocently. That question sounded familiar. I reread a text that was sent to me a few minutes earlier: Hey did you hear about the incident at McMillen? Another text came through: Someone tried to commit. I heard more whispers behind me calling my name. “Someone tried to kill themselves.” A group of students gave me concerned looks as more rumors were exchanged and realization set in. My principal, whom I’d never met, excused me from class and I departed with a tall lady in a black detective jacket to go to the children’s hospital. Almost exactly forty-eight hours later, my brother, Jesse, was pronounced dead at fifteen years old. Suicide. Of all the tasks my family had to tackle in the following days, cleaning out his room was a more difficult one. But I also had fun while doing it. I rediscovered my brother’s genius that he’d been hiding. He enjoyed playing many instruments, making music, drawing, and painting from an early age, but increasingly kept it secret from his family when he got older, as teenagers often do. However, one thing stood out from the other words and doodles in his sketch pads, textbooks, and homework. On the inside cover of his Bible, his scratchy handwriting read “Be open to the fact that you don’t know everything.” Now, when he left us, it was sudden. He had no diagnosed mental illness; never admitted feelings of depression or anxiety to his family; his friends knew very little about the chaos in his head. He didn’t leave a note. No hints. We were left with virtually nothing. So when I read that footnote, I read it again. And again. And again. It didn’t seem real. He’d grown up in church, same as all of us. He probably just heard it somewhere during Sunday service or summer camp. But still, that didn’t seem like it’d come from him. Jesse was a bit of a perfectionist. He needed everything to be a certain way or it wasn’t right. He needed to solve problems on his own or something was wrong with him. He needed to know all the answers or he’d get very frustrated. Now he’s telling me to be okay not knowing the answers all of the sudden? Why? And in the very front of his Bible? And why was the same phrase written at least five other times throughout the other pages? During the first few weeks after his death, I just took it as a coincidental piece of grief advice to give me temporary peace, at least for the funeral and final exams. But what about after that, when the shock blows over and I “get over it?” What about when I’m sitting on the bathroom floor at my job trying to escape being treated like dirt? And I know I want out, but with what skills or experience? I could be stuck here forever. What about when my friends become increasingly busy and less present, leaving me alone most of the time? Does anyone still care? Or what about when I’m on the verge of breaking down in my college class because I feel like a failure and that I picked the wrong major? But I can’t just drop out. What would my professors and classmates think? Or my parents? How dumb would I look not being in college, with no idea what I want to do with my life? And now I can’t even talk to my brother about it or goof off with him to distract myself. Is there anything in my life that is going right? Why did God let him get away with this? It seemed every time I had a problem, my mind would circle back to Jesse- how I wished I could talk to him and have him here. One day, after one of these instances, I stopped. I thought of what he wrote, something I hadn’t remembered in some time- “Be open to the fact that you don’t know everything.” I finally realized that maybe those words didn’t only apply to the circumstances surrounding his death. Yes, my job is frustrating but it’s not fair to believe that I can’t do better. I’m not stuck here. I’m just in a transition spot for my next job, whatever it may be. Yes, my friends are busy with school, but there could be other things going on. Maybe I could be the first one to reach out and check in with them. After all, it’s not easy doing life alone. And maybe I did pick the wrong major. My interest is fading and the program isn’t working out like I thought it would. So what? I’m so young. Of course I don’t have everything figured out, and I don’t need to. I have no idea what’s in store for me and that’s okay. I’ll find out when the time is right. All that matters is that I don’t give up. That is faith- trusting in the process to lead you to the outcome- and Jesse taught me more about that than anyone else. My brother made a choice, but it doesn’t mean that God wrote his life out of a master plan. The same can be applied to my personal struggles, however great or insignificant they are. I can propose ideas regarding college or my career choice or my relationships and work at them with everything I have. But when storms come, I also must possess faith that although it’s not going according to the series of events I imagined, this could be a part of a different plan. Perhaps, a greater one. Who am I to play God? So be open to the fact that you don’t know everything, and have faith.

Unfortunately, I learned the practice of gratitude in a less-than-optimal way. When my brother passed away three years ago, it came without warning. One minute I was worrying about a band audition I had that weekend (that I didn’t even care that much about), and the next I was on the way to the hospital unknown of what was to happen to our family. When we came home two days later, with one less person accounted for, my perspective changed. At that moment, school didn’t matter. Assignments didn’t matter. Responsibilities didn’t matter. People mattered- my family, my friends, my peers at school. For a while, the only thing I had on my mind was other people. I checked in with my friends often. When someone reached out to me for comfort, I listened a little better. I gave more. Over the years, I’ve learned to find a balance. It’s okay to put myself first sometimes. School and work should be priorities of mine. But people remain above that. I really am so thankful for everyone in my life, either here on Earth or not. But for those still on this side of heaven’s gate, I have to let them know how special and important they are. Nobody is guaranteed tomorrow. So what better use of my time than soaking up every minute I have and encouraging them? Though I wish it did not take such a horrible experience to make me understand the significance of others in my life, I cannot deny that I’m a more grateful person now- a better version of myself than I ever could have been without a wake up call.

My relaxation process, which is more of a daily action plan, takes place in the morning. It’s quite simple actually- wake up, shower, read, and make breakfast. I wake up at 5:30 AM because I enjoy spending time alone before the rest of the world begins bustling about. It’s the most tranquil time of the day. The air seems fresher, the sky paints pink and purple, and I can almost hear the soft hum of Earth turning toward the horizon. After my shower, I grab my water bottle, sit next to my open window, and read for at least fifteen minutes. I mostly read books about diet, success, habits, money, or business. I’ve always felt the most productive when I make reading a priority during my day, but specifically in the morning. My go-to breakfast is a smoothie or smoothie bowl because it ensures fruits and veggies, often forgotten about nowadays, are put first. I like to sit outside or near a window while I eat or drink. Being close to earth as often as I can is one of the healthiest and most soul-nourishing things I can do. By the time I’ve started getting ready for work, I have not only gotten myself in a good mental state, I feel balanced. Calm. Happy. I’ve discovered that whenever I stop doing some or all of these things in my routine for an extended time, I lose motivation to excel in my day. My body feels heavy and my mind goes foggy. It gets harder to keep up a clean room or clean diet and I spend more hours in bed on my phone then outside or with people. However, when I keep up with these practices, or similar ones, I start my day strong by positively engaging my mind.

When I was a junior in high school, my brother took his own life at fifteen years old. By the time senior year rolled around, I was sick of everything. I felt disillusioned and outcasted. Everyone knew the story, whether I had told them or not. I dreaded going to school just to slip into a cold desk and be ignored by my peers for seven hours. But then my mom discovered the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention (AFSP). They hold local walks every fall to raise awareness and funds for suicide research, and to support those touched by suicide. So my family registered as a team for our first walk during my brother’s birthday weekend. We named ourselves Limelights, after the Rush song he loved. I remember walking into the event and feeling the elation right away- cheerful voices, music pulsating through the ground, excited feet tapping against the pavement- and a wave of comfort washed over me. Not only was I not alone, but the stigma around suicide was broken. There was instantly an entire community- people that knew my pain and heartache- ready to encourage and fight with me. I check in with my friends significantly more than I used to and try to be there for them when they are struggling, but during the fall time, I go into overdrive. During my time at the events, I can be unapologetically outspoken about mental health and inspire my team and other teams with my words and actions. I love posting Limelights’ photos on social media, sharing fundraisers, packing up t-shirts for new team members, and giving snacks and water to other participants. The walks have given me a sense of purpose in sharing my brother’s story. I have a vessel to reassure those who are hurting.

At the moment, my goals remain relatively simple. When I picture myself five or ten years in the future, I definitely see myself living in a brightly colored home on the beach surrounded by tall palm trees and hibiscus flowers. Although I was born and raised in the suburbs of Dallas, TX, I’ve dreamed about learning to surf and being a beach bum ever since I was a kid. I’ve always been captivated by water, especially the ocean. But, of course, what kind of a surfer would I be if I didn’t keep my body performing at its best? I’ve never been the best at exercise and agility, though I am getting better, but diet and nutrition have increasingly become an area of high interest and practice during the past few years of my life. Success to me is taking care of my mind and body to the best of my ability so that I can be a light to others. As soon as I notice I’m feeling apathetic, I look at my daily habits. Am I making time to prepare a healthy breakfast for myself? Am I drinking water throughout the day? Am I eating a well-balanced portfolio of whole foods and limiting my processed food intake? All of these things make me feel more productive and more energized, hence why I choose to prioritize them. In order to achieve these smaller, everyday goals even more efficiently, I have decided to study Dietetics in college. I desire to learn how to maximize the potential of the human immune system and also educate others about fundamental changes in their food consumption that could consequently bless them with longer, more enjoyable lives. Even if they don’t want to be surfers, they’ll have the health and stamina to achieve whatever they wish!

My primary goal for going to school is to learn how to increase the quality and length of life for myself and others. No, I’m not going to be a doctor or a surgeon. I feel that many health complications can be eliminated or extremely reduced in severity by diet alone, which is why I’m going to college to study Nutrition and Dietetics. Watching people I know become burdened by their own bodies is difficult, to say the least, and I would love to learn how to both maximize the potential of the human immune system and educate others about everyday changes they could be making in their food intake that could consequently bless them with longer, more enjoyable lives. This information is of increasing importance in our society today, as seen in rising rates in heart disease, stroke, and cancer. Anything I learn while pursuing this degree can be easily applied to my life as well. Success to me is taking care of myself to the best of my ability so that I can be a light to others in everything else I do, even if that changes over time.