My biggest goal in life is to work in healthcare. For years, I silently suffered with bulimia, not knowing what I was going through had a name or that help existed. I want to become the kind of doctor I needed: someone who knows how to spot quiet suffering and meet it with understanding. Whether it is in adolescent medicine, mental health, or neuroscience, I want to help people understand their minds and their bodies before shame convinces them they are too far gone. It took me years to recognize what I was really going through. I spent those years wishing there had been someone who understood, who could have seen me when I could not see myself. Someone who could have looked past my fake smiles, seen the girl who was starving for something more than just food. I didn't need another diet; I needed someone to ask the right questions and to recognize the signs I could not name. I aspire to become that someone I was not afforded: the doctor I needed. Someone who knows how to spot quiet suffering and meet it with understanding. For so long, I thought my experiences made me weak. I wondered why I had to suffer in silence when so many others got help. But now, I see that it gave me the strength to understand those struggling and the purpose to help as many people as I can heal. For years, food was my enemy. Now, when I sit down to eat a meal or even enjoy a snack guilt-free, it reminds me of how far I've come and what I hope to make possible for people in need. To make this mission of mine possible, I have pushed myself to learn and grow as much as I possibly can. I have participated as a member of the STEM Fellowship cohort at Tarrant County College for two years. I have gained many great experiences from my fellowship, and they have affirmed my love and passion for healthcare. In addition to my fellowship, I have been studying to become a certified clinical medical assistant and have been certified in Basic Life Support. Through my medical assistant classes and rotations, I have been able to shadow many types of medical professionals. These rotations have shown me just how important every single person's role in a healthcare facility is and how much I want to be a part of it. I wake up every day excited for my new rotation, and I always think about how I can’t wait to be a part of the amazing things these healthcare workers make possible for these people every day. I am excited to continue my love for science and healthcare in college by participating in research and leadership to share my passion and grow my knowledge. The impact I can make on other people's lives keeps me motivated and determined to succeed. I am prepared to apply the skills I have learned throughout both school and my life to improve the lives of all my patients and make a meaningful difference in this world.

For me, food was never just fuel, it was a battle I faced three times a day. I have always been the “bigger” kid, and even at my young age I was aware of this. At just the age of ten, I had started my first diet. I had watched my parents diet for years, so why couldn't I do the same? However, what I did not know was that this decision would start a painful cycle that would follow me for the rest of my life. With each new diet and failure I became more and more restrictive. As the years went on, my purging and bingeing episodes got progressively worse. I spent years wishing there had been someone who understood, someone who could have seen me when I could not see myself. Someone who could have looked past my fake smiles and seen the girl who was starving for more than just food. That is the person I want to become. I didn’t realize that what I was doing had a name. I had never heard of an eating disorder. I thought what I was doing was just an extreme way of dieting. I spent my days eating less than a thousand calories and I spent my nights stuffing my face with anything that would drown out my emotions. But the worst part was not the constant ache from starvation, but the overwhelming loneliness and self hatred. I hated having to cover my mirrors and avoid photos at all costs because I knew if I saw them I would break down. I presumed that every whisper was about me and that I didn’t deserve to have friends because of how disgusting I was. My worth completely depended on my reflection. I spent everyday hungry not just for food but for love, connection, and acceptance. I believed if I could just starve myself for a little longer I could finally have the life I always dreamed of. I wanted to be just like the other girls, to have a big group of friends, to get asked out not as a joke but because someone liked me, I wanted to look in the mirror and not cry at what I saw but feel beautiful. It took me years to recognize what I was really going through. I didn't need another diet; I needed someone to ask the right questions, and to recognize the signs I could not name. That silence still stays with me, but I’ve learned to use it as a reminder—to listen closely, to notice what people don’t say. I want to become the kind of doctor I needed: someone who knows how to spot quiet suffering and meet it with understanding. Whether it is in adolescent medicine, mental health, or neuroscience, I want to help people understand their minds and their bodies before shame convinces them they are too far gone. For so long, I thought my experiences made me weak. I wondered why I had to suffer in silence when so many others got help. But now, I see that it gave me the strength to understand others and the purpose to help as many people as I can heal. For years, food was my enemy. Now when I sit down to eat a meal or even enjoy a snack guilt free it reminds me of how far I've come and what I hope to make possible for so many people who are struggling.

For me, food was never just fuel, it was a battle I faced three times a day. I have always been the “bigger” kid, and even at my young age I was aware of this. At just the age of ten, I had started my first diet. I had watched my parents diet for years, so why couldn't I do the same? However, what I did not know was that this decision would start a painful cycle that would follow me for the rest of my life. With each new diet and failure I became more and more restrictive. As the years went on, my purging and bingeing episodes got progressively worse. I spent years wishing there had been someone who understood, someone who could have seen me when I could not see myself. Someone who could have looked past my fake smiles and seen the girl who was starving for more than just food. That is the person I want to become. I didn’t realize that what I was doing had a name. I had never heard of an eating disorder. I thought what I was doing was just an extreme way of dieting. I spent my days eating less than a thousand calories and I spent my nights stuffing my face with anything that would drown out my emotions. But the worst part was not the constant ache from starvation, but the overwhelming loneliness and self hatred. I hated having to cover my mirrors and avoid photos at all costs because I knew if I saw them I would break down. I presumed that every whisper was about me and that I didn’t deserve to have friends because of how disgusting I was. My worth completely depended on my reflection. I spent everyday hungry not just for food but for love, connection, and acceptance. I believed if I could just starve myself for a little longer I could finally have the life I always dreamed of. I wanted to be just like the other girls, to have a big group of friends, to get asked out not as a joke but because someone liked me, I wanted to look in the mirror and not cry at what I saw but feel beautiful. It took me years to recognize what I was really going through. I didn't need another diet; I needed someone to ask the right questions, and to recognize the signs I could not name. That silence still stays with me, but I’ve learned to use it as a reminder—to listen closely, to notice what people don’t say. I want to become the kind of doctor I needed: someone who knows how to spot quiet suffering and meet it with understanding. Whether it is in adolescent medicine, mental health, or neuroscience, I want to help people understand their minds and their bodies before shame convinces them they are too far gone. For so long, I thought my experiences made me weak. I wondered why I had to suffer in silence when so many others got help. But now, I see that it gave me the strength to understand others and the purpose to help as many people as I can heal. For years, food was my enemy. Now when I sit down to eat a meal or even enjoy a snack guilt free it reminds me of how far I've come and what I hope to make possible for so many people who are struggling.

For me, food was never just fuel, it was a battle I faced three times a day. I have always been the “bigger” kid, and even at my young age I was aware of this. At just the age of ten, I had started my first diet. I had watched my parents diet for years, so why couldn't I do the same? However, what I did not know was that this decision would start a painful cycle that would follow me for the rest of my life. With each new diet and failure I became more and more restrictive. As the years went on, my purging and bingeing episodes got progressively worse. I spent years wishing there had been someone who understood, someone who could have seen me when I could not see myself. Someone who could have looked past my fake smiles and seen the girl who was starving for more than just food. That is the person I want to become. I didn’t realize that what I was doing had a name. I had never heard of an eating disorder. I thought what I was doing was just an extreme way of dieting. I spent my days eating less than a thousand calories and I spent my nights stuffing my face with anything that would drown out my emotions. But the worst part was not the constant ache from starvation, but the overwhelming loneliness and self hatred. I hated having to cover my mirrors and avoid photos at all costs because I knew if I saw them I would break down. I presumed that every whisper was about me and that I didn’t deserve to have friends because of how disgusting I was. My worth completely depended on my reflection. I spent everyday hungry not just for food but for love, connection, and acceptance. I believed if I could just starve myself for a little longer I could finally have the life I always dreamed of. I wanted to be just like the other girls, to have a big group of friends, to get asked out not as a joke but because someone liked me, I wanted to look in the mirror and not cry at what I saw but feel beautiful. It took me years to recognize what I was really going through. I didn't need another diet; I needed someone to ask the right questions, and to recognize the signs I could not name. That silence still stays with me, but I’ve learned to use it as a reminder—to listen closely, to notice what people don’t say. I want to become the kind of doctor I needed: someone who knows how to spot quiet suffering and meet it with understanding. Whether it is in adolescent medicine, mental health, or neuroscience, I want to help people understand their minds and their bodies before shame convinces them they are too far gone. For so long, I thought my experiences made me weak. I wondered why I had to suffer in silence when so many others got help. But now, I see that it gave me the strength to understand others and the purpose to help as many people as I can heal. For years, food was my enemy. Now when I sit down to eat a meal or even enjoy a snack guilt free it reminds me of how far I've come and what I hope to make possible for so many people who are struggling.

My biggest goal in life is to work in healthcare. For years, I silently suffered with bulimia, not knowing what I was going through had a name or that help existed. I want to become the kind of doctor I needed: someone who knows how to spot quiet suffering and meet it with understanding. Whether it is in adolescent medicine, mental health, or neuroscience, I want to help people understand their minds and their bodies before shame convinces them they are too far gone. It took me years to recognize what I was really going through. I spent those years wishing there had been someone who understood, who could have seen me when I could not see myself. Someone who could have looked past my fake smiles, seen the girl who was starving for something more than just food. I didn't need another diet; I needed someone to ask the right questions and to recognize the signs I could not name. I aspire to become that someone I was not afforded: the doctor I needed. Someone who knows how to spot quiet suffering and meet it with understanding. For so long, I thought my experiences made me weak. I wondered why I had to suffer in silence when so many others got help. But now, I see that it gave me the strength to understand those struggling and the purpose to help as many people as I can heal. For years, food was my enemy. Now, when I sit down to eat a meal or even enjoy a snack guilt-free, it reminds me of how far I've come and what I hope to make possible for people in need. To make this mission of mine possible, I have pushed myself to learn and grow as much as I possibly can. I have participated as a member of the STEM Fellowship cohort at Tarrant County College for two years. I have gained many great experiences from my fellowship, and they have affirmed my love and passion for healthcare. In addition to my fellowship, I have been studying to become a certified clinical medical assistant and have been certified in Basic Life Support. Through my medical assistant classes and rotations, I have been able to shadow many types of medical professionals. These rotations have shown me just how important every single person's role in a healthcare facility is and how much I want to be a part of it. I wake up every day excited for my new rotation, and I always think about how I can’t wait to be a part of the amazing things these healthcare workers make possible for these people every day. I am excited to continue my love for science and healthcare in college by participating in research and leadership to share my passion and grow my knowledge. The impact I can make on other people's lives keeps me motivated and determined to succeed. I am prepared to apply the skills I have learned throughout both school and my life to improve the lives of all my patients and make a meaningful difference in this world.

My biggest goal in life is to become a physician. For years, I silently suffered with bulimia, not knowing what I was going through had a name or that help existed. I want to become the kind of doctor I needed: someone who knows how to spot quiet suffering and meet it with understanding. Whether it is in adolescent medicine, mental health, or neuroscience, I want to help people understand their minds and their bodies before shame convinces them they are too far gone. It took me years to recognize what I was really going through. I didn’t need another diet; I needed someone to ask the right questions and recognize the signs I could not name. For so long, I thought my experiences made me weak. I wondered why I had to suffer in silence when others got help. But now I see that it gave me the strength to understand others and the purpose to help as many people as I can heal. For years, food was my enemy. Now, when I sit down to eat a meal or even enjoy a snack guilt-free, it reminds me how far I’ve come and what I hope to make possible for others who are struggling. To make this mission of mine possible, I have pushed myself to learn and grow as much as I possibly can. I have overcome my dyslexia and still managed to make all A’s in my advanced classes. Even though work takes me longer than my peers, I do not allow my dyslexia to limit me in any way. I have maintained a high GPA, earned a five and a four on my College Board exams, received two College Board awards, and been a member of HOSA and the National Honor Society. I have also kept a 4.0 GPA in my dual credit college classes despite their rigor. In addition, I have become the president of the French Honor Society and served as a choir officer for three years. I have been selected as a member of the STEM Fellowship cohort at Tarrant County College for two years. All of these activities have deepened my love for science and leadership and excite me for the possibilities that await me. While participating in these extracurriculars, I have also worked at Chick-fil-A for two years to support my family. Balancing a job with advanced classes has been challenging, but it has truly shaped me as a person. At Chick-fil-A, our goal is always to make every customer’s day, and I plan to bring that same goal to every job I hold in the future. I am excited to continue my love for science and healthcare in college by participating in research and leadership to share my passion and grow my knowledge. Though I know the path before me will be challenging, I have proven to myself that I am capable of hard things. The impact I can make on other people's lives keeps me motivated and determined to succeed. I am prepared to apply the skills I have learned throughout both school and my life to improve the lives of all my patients and make a meaningful difference in this world.

My biggest goal in life is to work in healthcare. For years, I silently suffered with bulimia, not knowing what I was going through had a name or that help existed. I want to become the kind of doctor I needed: someone who knows how to spot quiet suffering and meet it with understanding. Whether it is in adolescent medicine, mental health, or neuroscience, I want to help people understand their minds and their bodies before shame convinces them they are too far gone. It took me years to recognize what I was really going through. I spent those years wishing there had been someone who understood, who could have seen me when I could not see myself. Someone who could have looked past my fake smiles, seen the girl who was starving for something more than just food. I didn't need another diet; I needed someone to ask the right questions and to recognize the signs I could not name. I aspire to become that someone I was not afforded: the doctor I needed. Someone who knows how to spot quiet suffering and meet it with understanding. For so long, I thought my experiences made me weak. I wondered why I had to suffer in silence when so many others got help. But now, I see that it gave me the strength to understand those struggling and the purpose to help as many people as I can heal. For years, food was my enemy. Now, when I sit down to eat a meal or even enjoy a snack guilt-free, it reminds me of how far I've come and what I hope to make possible for people in need. To make this mission of mine possible, I have pushed myself to learn and grow as much as I possibly can. I have participated as a member of the STEM Fellowship cohort at Tarrant County College for two years. I have gained many great experiences from my fellowship, and they have affirmed my love and passion for healthcare. In addition to my fellowship, I have been studying to become a certified clinical medical assistant and have been certified in Basic Life Support. Through my medical assistant classes and rotations, I have been able to shadow many types of medical professionals. These rotations have shown me just how important every single person's role in a healthcare facility is and how much I want to be a part of it. I wake up every day excited for my new rotation, and I always think about how I can’t wait to be a part of the amazing things these healthcare workers make possible for these people every day. I am excited to continue my love for science and healthcare in college by participating in research and leadership to share my passion and grow my knowledge. The impact I can make on other people's lives keeps me motivated and determined to succeed. I am prepared to apply the skills I have learned throughout both school and my life to improve the lives of all my patients and make a meaningful difference in this world.