Flour on the counter, mixing bowls piled in the sink, and the distinct smell of a decadent and rich chocolate cake wafting throughout the kitchen. Baking has been a part of my life for as long as I can remember, and my first memories include my mother walking me through the tedious steps of rolling out balls of cookie dough. While this time consuming process may be difficult and tiring for many, my 5 year-old self held no greater joy than seeing the perfect (if not slightly lopsided), and meticulously placed balls of dough evenly spread on the cookie sheet. That feeling, the purest form of satisfaction, was what began my interest in learning to bake. My passion evolved from baking cookies in the kitchen, into what is now an up and running reputation and business built through constant exposure and sharing of my baked goods to friends and family throughout the years. From the most simple chocolate chip cookies, created from a recipe passed down through the generations, and recorded on a faded, torn piece of parchment in the back of my grandmother's notebook, to learning the ins and outs of choux pastry, macarons, and creme brulee, my baking journey has been filled with trial and error, failure, and success. While failure in every field is discouraging to say the least, true failure is not achieved unless one gives up on their dream. Through every burned cake or deflated souffle, I am reminded of this fact. The most minuscule successes are what drives me forward every day, what keeps me in the kitchen, and what pushes me to just try again when things get rough. If someone asked me what I wanted to be in 5th grade, my answer would have 100% been a bakery owner in Paris, and through my years in high school that dream hasn’t changed. Sharing my creations, such as when I experimented with new cookie flavors for my colorguard team, brought immense joy. Witnessing their excitement mirrored the satisfaction I felt as a child, at seeing the cookies on the tray. Being able to share my creations with others, witness the joy at the news that there is something for them, and watching the happiness on their faces as they take their first bite, makes the work worth it, the mess just another task to check off, and the mistakes and accidents along the way a necessary test to achieve the perfect result. One of my favorite people to watch on TikTok, is a girl who built her bakery from scratch and spends her days sharing what she loves and giving back to her community. That girl is who I aspire to embody. The selflessness of her generosity knows no bounds, and I hope to one day be able to share the fruits of my labor with those who are less fortunate. Just because someone holds a lesser status of wealth, does not mean they should not get to enjoy the taste of homemade baked goods made with love and dedication. Giving back to my community in this way is one of the goals that I hope to achieve with a future in the culinary field. Now, as I sit here over 11 years after I first made cookies with my mom, I am reminded of my love and passion for baking and mixing to create the embodiment of perfection. After all, someone had to mix the ingredients in the first place to make the first cookie, cake, or pastry, why shouldn't I continue that legacy?

Adversity, to me, embodies a moment filled in pain and difficulty. It was a late Saturday night, and the triumph of winning a color guard competition dissolved into despair as a call shattered my peace. Two hours from home, I learned my childhood dog, battling paralysis, had taken a turn for the worse. The grief was raw, coupled by the realization that I wouldn't make it back in time to bid him farewell. The guilt of being absent in his final moments weighed heavily. Returning home, I found some comfort in the farewell rituals arranged by the veterinary staff, yet the burden of regret persisted. The guilt latched onto my joy, making it challenging to participate in color guard with the same enthusiasm, tainted by the memory of his loss. However, I refused to let adversity define me. A necklace, holding his ashes, became my talisman, a constant reminder of his presence and my commitment never to falter again. In the aftermath of that painful night, I found myself grappling with profound questions about life, loss, and the nature of resilience. As I navigated through my first introduction to grief, I discovered that adversity, though daunting, carries within it the beginnings of growth and strength. For me, overcoming adversity meant confronting my deepest fears and insecurities, acknowledging the pain and sorrow that threatened to consume me, and finding the strength to persevere in the face of overwhelming odds. It meant embracing the memories of my childhood dog, holding onto the love and joy he brought into my life, even as I battled with the pain of his absence. This adversity built resilience within me, teaching that life's twists are unpredictable. My advice to those facing similar trials is this: cherish every moment, for life's uncertainties demand our presence and resilience. Never take a moment with those you love for granted, embrace the memories, carry them close, and let them fuel your determination to persevere, honoring those we've lost by living fully and passionately. Reflecting on that challenging time, I realized that adversity often strikes when we least expect it, disrupting the rhythm of our lives and challenging the very core of our being. In those moments, it's easy to feel overwhelmed, to succumb to despair and hopelessness. However, in finding comfort in cherished memories, and in the knowledge that, despite the pain and sorrow, life goes on, I learned that true resilience lies not in denying or suppressing our emotions, but in embracing them fully. Allowing ourselves to feel the depth of our sorrow while also finding moments of joy and beauty amidst the darkness is critical to overcoming any challenging adversity. Today, as I look back on that difficult time, I am grateful for the lessons it taught me, for the opportunity it provided me to grow and evolve as a person. I carry with me the memories of my beloved pet, his spirit living on in my heart, reminding me always of the power of love, resilience, and the unshakeable human spirit.

As the countdown reached its end on the oversized screen, casting its glow over the iconic key-shaped stage, a sense of frenzied anticipation filled the air. The collective excitement, cheers, and the sea of thousands illuminated by tiny lights and phone cameras set the stage for what would be an unforgettable Taylor Swift concert experience. I, like everyone else, aimed to capture that perfect angle of Taylor's entrance, my phone shaking in my hand, friendship bracelets clinking in my pockets – tangible symbols of shared enthusiasm with my best friends. The stage doors opened, beginning a nostalgic journey through the echoes of Swift's iconic album names. Enormous fans held by dancers gracefully swirled around the stage, converging at the center like a magnetic force. The opening chords of "Miss Americana and the Heartbreak Prince" resonated through the stadium, initiating a burst of color unveiling the Taylor Swift at the center. The crowd erupted, and I found myself swept away in the ecstatic atmosphere. A pivotal moment during the concert was the live rendition of "Don't Blame Me." The song took on an otherworldly quality, amplified by the stage lighting that soared towards the heavens. Spotlights illuminated the performance, creating a mesmerizing visual accompaniment to the soulful melody. It wasn't just a song; it was a spiritual experience that reverberated through the entire arena, leaving its handprint on my heart. My favorite moment, however, came with the performance of "Champagne Problems." As the haunting piano chords echoed through the stadium, the collective scream of "What a shame she's fucked in the head" resounded powerfully. In that moment, I was part of a chorus of thousands of powerful women who had been unfairly labeled and judged. It became a cathartic release, a declaration of strength, and a shared expression of resilience. The unity in that moment was palpable, and it transformed the concert into a communal experience of empowerment. The concert immensely surpassed the boundaries of a typical musical event; it became a tapestry of emotions woven with the threads of Taylor Swift's discography. Each era unfolded like a chapter, collectively painting a vivid picture of shared experiences, friendship, and personal growth. The pulsating energy of the live performance, coupled with the visual spectacle, created an immersive journey that resonated on a profound level. To that end, The Eras Tour wasn't just a musical performance by Taylor Swift; it was a transformative journey through emotions and connections. The live renditions of "Don't Blame Me" and the powerful collective experience during "Champagne Problems" served as emotional anchors, resonating with me on a profound level. The pulsating energy of the live performance, coupled with the visual spectacle, created an immersive journey that was about forging lasting memories, sharing raw emotions, and connecting with both the music and the vibrant community around me. The synchronization of music, visuals, and the collective spirit of thousands transformed a night into an indelible, empowering experience that will forever hold a cherished place in my heart.