In the online world, the ruse of anonymity drives people towards disrespectful behavior, believing their actions cannot be assigned with their face. This phenomenon has allowed children and adults alike to get away with the bullying or harassment or others with, commonly, no repercussions. Cyberbullying is a real issue that has arisen from this, which has caused real people to suffer with terrible words said to them. In a sense, anonymity is nice, as people feel more inclined to be honest with their problems or interests, letting them express their true selves. On the other hand, anonymity is taken advantage of and the results can be devastating. Personally, I have been cyberbullied before when I was sick and could no longer attend school. Kids would send me messages stating I left due to being "stupid" or a "slut". The experience was disconcerting, but it definitely led me to be very careful with my words, no matter the context I am in.

An opened window reflects its light onto the ground laid below the feet of a man with no conscious for his steps. She bleeds red at his ground, his feet making bloody footprints up to the window, closing her so hard her paint chips at her ledge. The colors painted secrets across the ground of blood, the precious area abandoned. Her beauty shining only for her, only for her mind and heart. The man approaches the window from outside, punching his fist through her. Her personal colors shattered, her red streaks spreading. She watched, her body now sharp and jagged, as the man simply stood over her, slowly removing his fist. Her loose shards fell to the ground, her herself finding colors in that moment as her blood spread. The man had blood across his arm and she realized that her colors had never touched him before now. She was gone, her colors disappearing over the course of days, and the window above her took her leave in warning, watching over the man in the same way her mother had.

I have inflammatory bowel disease, chronic gastritis, and lactose intolerance, so my diet on what I can eat is restrictive. When I try to save money and buy foods that are greasy or high in sodium, I end up suffering the consequences. There are times when I can not eat anything besides baby food and plain pasta, and that has caused me to be wary of social events surrounding food. I have been accused of having an eating disorder or trying to draw attention to myself, which caused me to push myself to eat more foods that caused even more damage to my body. At fifteen, I had to receive a feeding tube after I had pushed myself to "be normal", which led to even more stares and comments. People started to treat me like I was fragile and incapable of leading a normal life, which fed into my depression. All I ever hoped, dreamed, and prayed for was to be pain free and normal. I wanted to eat ice cream and play games, but instead I was stuck standing to the side with my feeding bag. There are moments in my life where I feel somewhat normal, since my illnesses come in waves, so when every semblance of normalcy I gained slips away, it hurts even more. I used to be scared to tell people, but now I know that I am more than this illness and it comes with me wherever I go. I am proud of myself for small things now, like eating a full meal. I try to be thankful for each moment where I can feel okay, and when I don't, I try to be thankful for at least being alive. With this money I can afford to buy the foods that will nourish me and let me lead a healthier life, compared to the off-brand greasy foods that make me worse. I can learn how to make myself meals that will not harm me, but rather will help me live my life in the best way possible. I want to learn how to fully care for my body and its individual needs. There is a nutritionist training station in my school, and I can use the money I get to buy gas and drive to them in order to get the right advice for my better and healthier diet. I hope you consider me for this scholarship!

It was a cruel reality check when my uncle died. He suffered with addiction his entire life, but his alcoholism finally caught up to him and caused his untimely death. His son was then left without a home, father, or mother. He is only nineteen. My parents do not have a lot of money, so they live with my grandfather, and they welcomed my cousin in immediately. My uncle never had health insurance, so the cost of his hospital stay and funeral added up quickly. My cousin works in the army, but he is just a kid, and he could not afford the costs, so my parents helped. At the same time my other uncle, who has schizophrenia, had a nervous breakdown and my parents had to start paying for his mortgage. I am currently in the hardest semester of my college career and with my disabilities, I can not work and go to school at the same time. I live off of forty dollars a week that my parents were kind enough to send me, but otherwise, I need help in paying for my education, so that I can help them. I need to repay the kindness that was shown to me by my family, and I crave the stability that was lost so long ago.

When I was a child, I was told that my crushes on girls was a phase, a blip in my life that I confused for romance when it was just admiration. "It's just friendship" is what played in my head as I held my best friends hand with butterflies in my stomach. "It's just friendship" was stuck on repeat when I was curled up in a ball and sobbing due to my best friend dating a boy. One day, out of fear and curiosity, I searched up about gay women and I sat in awe. I felt relieved that I was not alone, but also scared about what this meant. The guilt ate at me each day, until I told my parents about my thoughts, finally admitting it. There was silence and the tension in the air dragged my shoulders down. The silence stayed until I left, the rest of the week becoming a mix of uneventful yet stressful events. Then, my father asked me to join him in the bedroom. I sat stiffly on the bed as he flipped through TV channels, until finally, he stopped at an inappropriate channel that made me squirm. It was two women engaging in sex. He asked me repeatedly if that is what I liked, all while the women kept turning to the camera, looking me in the eyes. I did a slow shake of my head and gave him a defeated glance. In that moment, my identity became a scarred memory. I was only ten and already terrified of who I was. I convinced myself that it was a phase, since I liked the look of boys too. One by one my friends came out to me, and I was labeled as a straight ally. My parents always claimed to be allies as well, but I guess I was the exception. I am currently majoring in communication sciences and disorders for my undergraduate. Once I graduate in the spring, I will move on to majoring in speech pathology for my graduate degree, It took me a long time of sweat, blood, and tears to come out to my friends, and even now many people are not aware of my identity. I want to normalize LGBTQ+ people and relationships to the younger generations. I want to be a figure that my client can feel comfortable with, someone to let them know it is okay and they are not any different.

No matter how you feel as you step into the intimidating halls of your school building, hold your head up high and believe in yourself. Before school, look in the mirror and tell yourself how valuable and capable you are. You might feel insecure or frightened, but have confidence in yourself. You get this far, you can finish what you started. Aylaeckersley - instagram

As a child I had to experience an unusual life, with physical and mental illnesses inflicting me. It seemed that at every turn, I had another problem rearing its head towards me, including my speech impediment. I drifted away from people, feeling misunderstood and ignored for who I was as a person. That is why I decided to become a speech language pathologist. I want to give a voice to those who do not feel like they have it, and be the person to help them cope with the change. I was diagnosed with autism recently, and have struggled with depression, anxiety, and PTSD since I was young. My life has changed in many ways since learning about my disabilities, but the one thing that stays in my mind is how proud I am of myself for everything I have done, regardless.

As a young girl growing up with undiagnosed autism, I was put into speech therapy for my delays. I enjoyed my experience, gaining confidence in fields I never imagine I could even approach. That is why it is my goal to inspire other young children in the same way I was. I want to become an established and trustworthy Speech Language Pathologist, one whom children can feel free to be themselves around. I will become that and more, being an advocate for young girls experiencing symptoms of autism, and explaining to their loved ones why a diagnosis is so important. I will be the woman I needed as a child.