“If it helps one person, it’s worth it.” “If it helps one person, it’s worth it.” Playing on loop in my mind as I stood there with the microphone in my hand. As much as I wanted it to, I knew talking about my experiences with self harm and suicide on panels wouldn't stop anyones hurting and convince them to never do it. But I also knew that not saying anything wouldn’t change that either. So as I walked up the stage to share my story to 300 middle and high school students, I was comforted by the idea that it didn’t hurt to try. Because, for me, if my vulnerability helped one person feel less alone, then every hospitalization, every night spent alone, and the last six years of my life were worth it. When the sixth grade boy came up to me at the end, crying, telling me how he wanted to kill himself and asking for me to help him, my heart broke and healed at the same time. Since this, I have continued to speak on mental health panels and volunteer on the Teen Advisory Board with Insight To Teen Culture, a mental health nonprofit with the intention to support community challenges based on experience. These experiences perfectly encapsulate my reasoning for being a double major in Psychology and Educational Studies at Southern Methodist University, because I am driven to make an impact in the lives of others, and this can only be amplified through my studies and schooling.

I was in seventh grade the first time I was recommended for a 504 plan; “Mrs. Warner did not want to move forward with a 504 plan assessment.” Again my Freshman year, “parents declined the 504 plan.” My Sophomore year, my parents finally consented to an IEP evaluation after a Student Support Team meeting discussing concerns for my safety after engaging multiple times in self harm on campus. I have severely struggled with my mental health since sixth grade. I started self harming at aged twelve, attempted suidide for the first time at aged thirteen and this cycle continued for years. What started off as a “one time thing” quickly spiraled into a full fledged addiction and multiple hospitalizations. Desperate for a release, an explanation for my mental pain and punishment I felt I deserved, I was struggling and it felt like the people around me didn’t see or care. It was during the spring of my sophomore year that addiction took over my life and, after being found multiple times cutting in the bathroom, I was no longer able to attend school. I fought my reality for months, how did I let it get this bad? Why me? Should I just give up? Why don’t people care? All I cared about was not being here anymore, but it was also at this time my school counselor saw something in me. She quickly became my single support and lifeline as the rest of my world crumbled around me. When I was hurting and alone, she dismantled my whole belief system about myself. Everytime she had to take me to the nurse, everytime I would sit in her office refusing to speak, every time she would stay up texting with me at 2AM, she never left. It was the first time in my life someone stuck with me through the mess that I was, even if it meant being the one to drive me to the hospital. She saw hope in me that I lost for myself years ago. But it wasn’t just her, it was a team effort. My school psychologist advocated for me, helped me receive the IEP services I needed and was the first to let me use her office to take a break or call my therapist. The special education coordinator always held a safe space for me, gave me the best snacks and advice in a way that I never felt like a problem around her. When I left school to go to treatment, the academic coordinator there nurtured me in my education and recovery. He helped make some of the darkest and longest days of my life more tolerable through Mendocino Farms sandwiches, our terrible twisted jokes and his persistent support. No matter how difficult I was. Without these four people, my life would have a very different outcome. The last four years of my life perfectly encapsulate my reasoning for wanting to pursue a degree in the mental health field. I want to be able to help people the same way people helped me, I want to be the same beacon of light and support that Ms. Shulman, Mrs. Rule, Ms. Schofield and Steven were to me. I will do this by using the compassion, love, grace and understanding they met me with during these times. For fighting for the student and helping them see their worth and get the help they deserve. I will stick by their side and be their biggest cheerleader always, because it was these traits put out by the people around me that got me where I am today.

One thing about Taylor Swift is that she's one of the few people who's stuck with me through the highs and lows of life. Debut came out the year I was born so I really did grow up with her music, and although she told me to “never grow up”, I “had the time of my life fighting dragons with [her]”. Whether it was “dancing around in [my] PJs getting ready for school”, singing “fifteen” the first day of my freshman year, or relating more to “this is me trying”, “right where you left me”, “the archer” and “mirrorball", she was there. Whenever I was scared, alone or felt completely hopeless, she comforted me through her songs. In 2017, the year reputation was released, I started experimenting with self harm and thoughts of suicide. I watched, alone, as the people around me turned a blind eye to my struggles. My screams for help went unnoticed and I was left fighting this disease on my own. I didn’t want to be here anymore. But it was Taylor's discography and I against the world. She and her lyricism were the only things that saw me and stuck around to listen. 6 years later, there I was after being sent home from school listening to folklore in my airpods waiting in the emergency room after another suicide attempt. I was told I couldn’t return to school unless I went to treatment, so, I got sent to treatment. When I had to sit there and watch everything I knew to be taken away from me, blondie was there. It was never in my “wildest dreams” that I'd be sitting on the kitchen counters of a treatment center with staff and another client the night Midnights was released, or that I'd spend Halloween doing the “bejeweled” dance in the parking lot during trunk or treat. Or that a month later the therapists, counselors, and other staff would be sitting on the floor of the office fighting each other (and Ticketmaster) for tickets to the Eras Tour. I slowly, but surely, turned other clients into swifties and was lucky enough to have a therapist almost as madly in love with Taylor as I am. I would throw out Taylor references in group, which never failed to lighten the mood when at least one person would catch on. After 14 months there, in August of 2023, my friend and I got to attend the Eras Tour at SoFi Stadium. I remember standing during “The Archer”, a song that had carried me through the last 4 years of pain, trauma, fear, and darkness thinking “I made it”. For the first time in 6 years I was “finally clean”, clean from self harm, clean from the darkness that would haunt me in the middle of the night, clean from me. And that night “we danced like we knew our lives would never be the same” because I had survived “the great war”. Not just with Ticketmaster but with myself.

I was in seventh grade the first time I was recommended for a 504 plan; “Mrs. Warner did not want to move forward with a 504 plan assessment.” Again my Freshman year, “parents declined the 504 plan.” Eventually, my parents consented to an IEP evaluation after a Student Support Team meeting discussing concerns for my safety after engaging multiple times in self harm on campus. I have severely struggled with my mental health since sixth grade. I started self harming at age twelve, attempted suicide for the first time at age thirteen and this cycle continued for years. What started as a “one-time thing” quickly spiraled into a full-fledged addiction and multiple hospitalizations. Desperate for a release, an explanation for my mental pain and punishment I felt I deserved, I was struggling and it felt like the people around me didn’t see or care. It was during the spring of my sophomore year that addiction took over my life and, after being found multiple times cutting in the bathroom, I was no longer able to attend school. I fought my reality for months, how did I let it get this bad? Why me? Should I just give up? Why don’t people care? All I cared about was not being here anymore, but it was also at this time my school counselor saw something in me. She quickly became my single support and lifeline as the rest of my world crumbled around me. When I was hurting and alone, she dismantled my whole belief system about myself. Every time she had to take me to the nurse, every time I would sit in her office refusing to speak, every time she would stay up texting with me at 2 AM, she never left. It was the first time in my life that someone stuck with me through the mess that I was, even if it meant being the one to drive me to the hospital. She saw hope in me that I lost for myself years ago. But it wasn’t just her, it was a team effort. My school psychologist advocated for me, helped me receive the IEP services I needed and was the first to let me use her office to take a break or call my therapist. The special education coordinator always held a safe space for me and gave me the best advice, and snacks, in a way that I never felt like a problem around her. When I left school to go to treatment, the academic coordinator there nurtured me in my education and recovery. He helped make some of the darkest and longest days of my life more tolerable through Mendocino Farms sandwiches, our terrible twisted jokes and his persistent support. No matter how difficult I was. Without these four people, my life would have a very different outcome. The last four years of my life perfectly encapsulate my reasoning for wanting to pursue a degree in the mental health field. I want to be able to help people the same way people helped me, I want to be the same beacon of light and support that Ms. Shulman, Mrs. Rule, Ms. Schofield and Steven were to me. I will do this by using the compassion, love, grace and understanding they met me with during these times. For fighting for the student and helping them see their worth and get the help they deserve. I will stick by their side and be their biggest cheerleader because it was these traits put out by the people around me that got me where I am today.

My dream version of myself is one who is uniquely me, who doesn't hide behind the mask of what I think people want me to be, but instead trusts and allows myself to be authentic and vulnerable.