“Embrace before you Erase” is more than a quote to me, it is my drive to pursue an higher education At Howard University and set a foundation for other women who went through the same experiences I did. My plan is to become a cosmetic nurse practitioner and one day open my own med spa. Not just any med spa, but one that feels safe for people of color, women, and anyone who has been hurt by unrealistic beauty standards or the pressure to be “perfect” that only seems to be applied to women. As a black woman, I want it to be a space where people feel comfortable, respected, and seen. A lot of this was inspired from how I grew up. I dealt with a lot of bullying from my dad and my brother, and it really affected with how I saw myself. I felt dismissed in a different way. Being a woman and being obese at a young age, it felt like people already had assumptions about me before I even spoke. Like I wasn’t taken seriously, or like I didn’t deserve to feel confident. For a long time, I thought the only way to be seen as beautiful was to show or change parts of myself just to fit what other people wanted. It took time, and honestly my relationship with God, to start unlearning that. I had to realize that my worth wasn’t based on what they said about me, but on how I was created which is proven in Psalms 139:14. That is where my mindset now comes from “embrace before you erase.” I don’t want my future med spa to be about fixing people like something is wrong with them. I want it to be about enhancing what’s already there. Especially for people of color, because a lot of our natural features have been criticized or overlooked. There’s nothing wrong with them. You don’t need to erase who you are to feel beautiful. In my med spa, consultations will actually matter. I don’t just want to ask what someone wants done but I want to understand why. What made them feel this way? What are they expecting after? I would include facial and feature analysis, but also real conversations. I want my patients to feel heard, not rushed or judged. I don’t see a lot of women of color owning med spas, and that matters to me. I want to be part of changing that. I want my clients to feel like they can trust me with their face and their story, because I understand where they’re coming from. Working under a phlebotomist taught me a lot about that trust. You’re dealing with needles, so you can’t just go in without talking people through it. You have to explain, reassure, and pay attention to how they’re feeling. It reminded me that care isn’t just about what you do, but how you do it. At the end of the day, I’ve always loved beauty, art, and helping people. This career brings all of that together for me. I don’t just want to change how people look. I want to help change how they view about themselves. I want my med spa to be more than a business. I want it to be a place where people feel safe, understood, and valued. A place that reminds them they were already enough before anything was added. I Found this scholarship on Bold.org

“Embrace before you Erase” is more than a quote to me, it is my drive to pursue an higher education At Howard University and set a foundation for other women who went through the same experiences I did. My plan is to become a cosmetic nurse practitioner and one day open my own med spa. Not just any med spa, but one that feels safe for people of color, women, and anyone who has been hurt by unrealistic beauty standards or the pressure to be “perfect” that only seems to be applied to women. As a black woman, I want it to be a space where people feel comfortable, respected, and seen. A lot of this comes from how I grew up. I dealt with a lot of bullying from my dad and my brother, and it really affected with how I saw myself. I felt dismissed in a different way. Being a woman and being obese at a young age, it felt like people already had assumptions about me before I even spoke. Like I wasn’t taken seriously, or like I didn’t deserve to feel confident. For a long time, I thought the only way to be seen as beautiful was to show or change parts of myself just to fit what other people wanted. It took time, and honestly my relationship with God, to start unlearning that. I had to realize that my worth wasn’t based on what they said about me, but on how I was created which is proven in Psalms 139:14. That is where my mindset now comes from “embrace before you erase.” I don’t want my future med spa to be about fixing people like something is wrong with them. I want it to be about enhancing what’s already there. Especially for people of color, because a lot of our natural features have been criticized or overlooked. There’s nothing wrong with them. You don’t need to erase who you are to feel beautiful. In my med spa, consultations will actually matter. I don’t just want to ask what someone wants done but I want to understand why. What made them feel this way? What are they expecting after? I would include facial and feature analysis, but also real conversations. I want my patients to feel heard, not rushed or judged. I don’t see a lot of women of color owning med spas, and that matters to me. I want to be part of changing that. I want my clients to feel like they can trust me with their face and their story, because I understand where they’re coming from. Working under a phlebotomist taught me a lot about that trust. You’re dealing with needles, so you can’t just go in without talking people through it. I also worked as a transporter in mother-baby, and that taught me something different: how to be gentle with people in vulnerable moments. That stayed with me. It reminded me that care isn’t just about what you do, but how you do it. At the end of the day, I’ve always loved beauty, art, and helping people. This career brings all of that together for me. I don’t just want to change how people look. I want to help change how they view about themselves. I want my med spa to be more than a business. I want it to be a place where people feel safe, understood, and valued. A place that reminds them they were already enough before anything was added.

I never knew it wasn’t normal to have parents living in separate houses. For as long as I can remember, my dad and my mom were never in the same place at the same time. This was my normal, but it wasn't an easy one. Growing up, I felt like I was constantly stuck in a loop of negativity. I would go to my dad’s house and hear him talk about my mom, then go back to my mom’s house and hear her talk about him. From the age of one to twelve, I was basically a traveler between two different worlds, trying to get to know my parents as separate people. It felt like I could never truly escape the bad energy between them. As I got older, I started to see things for what they really were. I always knew my mom was a strong woman, and I admired her for how hard she worked. But once I learned the truth about the abuse she went through with my dad, that admiration turned into something much deeper. The hardest part of growing up was my relationship with my dad. For a long time, I didn't want to see him as the villain. I think most kids want to believe the best about their parents, even when the evidence says otherwise. But the older I got, the more I realized that effort is a choice. He would always say, "Hey, call me," but the phone never rang on his end. He never made the effort to actually be in my life once we stopped the back-and-forth switching between houses. I just wanted a dad who would help me when I needed it most. It made me spiral into these dark questions that no kid should have to ask. I started wondering if I was the problem. I asked myself whatwas wrong with me that my own father wouldn't even text me back to help with my education. My mom didn't let me stay in that dark place for long. She looked me in the eyes and told me that I wasn't the problem. She taught me not to blame myself for his choices or his absence. From that point on, it has just been me and her. When people talk about "single-parent households" in a negative way, I can’t even relate to what they are saying. I don't see a "missing" parent; I see my mom as both of my parents. She filled up all the empty spaces he left behind. Senior year was full of these kinds of challenges, but they taught me how to be resilient. I learned to stop looking for validation in people who aren't there and to put my trust in God instead. I want to show kids that they are the exception to the rule. Our stories aren't things we should have to hide or be embarrassed about. They are the reason we are stronger, faster, and more prepared to accomplish our dreams. I am not a victim of a divorce; I am the proud product of a single mother who taught me how to turn a difficult situation into a prosperous life. I am ready to be the first one in line for my future, not because it was handed to me, but because I worked for it.

“Embrace before you Erase” is more than a quote to me, it is my drive to pursue an higher education At Howard University and set a foundation for other women who went through the same experiences I did. My plan is to become a cosmetic nurse practitioner and one day open my own med spa. Not just any med spa, but one that feels safe for people of color, women, and anyone who has been hurt by unrealistic beauty standards or the pressure to be “perfect” that only seems to be applied to women. As a black woman, I want it to be a space where people feel comfortable, respected, and seen. A lot of this comes from how I grew up. I dealt with a lot of bullying from my dad and my brother, and it really affected with how I saw myself. I felt dismissed in a different way. Being a woman and being obese at a young age, it felt like people already had assumptions about me before I even spoke. Like I wasn’t taken seriously, or like I didn’t deserve to feel confident. For a long time, I thought the only way to be seen as beautiful was to show or change parts of myself just to fit what other people wanted. It took time, and honestly my relationship with God, to start unlearning that. I had to realize that my worth wasn’t based on what they said about me, but on how I was created which is proven in Psalms 139:14. That is where my mindset now comes from “embrace before you erase.” I don’t want my future med spa to be about fixing people like something is wrong with them. I want it to be about enhancing what’s already there. Especially for people of color, because a lot of our natural features have been criticized or overlooked. There’s nothing wrong with them. You don’t need to erase who you are to feel beautiful. In my med spa, consultations will actually matter. I don’t just want to ask what someone wants done but I want to understand why. What made them feel this way? What are they expecting after? I would include facial and feature analysis, but also real conversations. I want my patients to feel heard, not rushed or judged. I don’t see a lot of women of color owning med spas, and that matters to me. I want to be part of changing that. I want my clients to feel like they can trust me with their face and their story, because I understand where they’re coming from. Working under a phlebotomist taught me a lot about that trust. You’re dealing with needles, so you can’t just go in without talking people through it. You have to explain, reassure, and pay attention to how they’re feeling. I also worked as a transporter in mother-baby, and that taught me something different: how to be gentle with people in vulnerable moments. That stayed with me. It reminded me that care isn’t just about what you do, but how you do it. At the end of the day, I’ve always loved beauty, art, and helping people. This career brings all of that together for me. I don’t just want to change how people look. I want to help change how they view about themselves. I want my med spa to be more than a business. I want it to be a place where people feel safe,understood, and valued. A place that reminds them they were already enough before anything was added.

You really don't know what "depending on God" means until you actually have no other route but Him. Only then do you know how it feels to realize the only reason you got through the situation you did is because of Him and Him only. For me, that realization came during the peak of college application season. I spent hours trying to make my applications perfect, endlessly fixing my essays, studying for the SAT, and obsessing over maintaining my 4.0 GPA. I thought I was in control, but really I was just trying to manage my own biggest fear, which is failure. I was so caught up in fixing my own needs and securing my future that I didn’t realize my role wasn't to control the outcome. My role was to glorify God through the storm, not to ignore Him while I tried to control everything myself. This situation of switching from fashion to nursing, getting abandoned by my dad, and failing at a lot of things I tried was a lot for me to handle. It forced me to depend on nothing but God. I tried my way so many times until I finally had no other route but Him. I used to think that success was about my own power, and I wanted to get into a top notch school just to brag and for my own glory. I wanted the status of the fashion world to prove my worth to everyone who looked at me. But through the confusion and the deep anxiety of this year, I realized I need to live for God’s glory and not my own. I don't need a school just to have something to say to people. I want my life to be a testimony for others who feel the same way I did, people who feel abandoned, scared, and tired of trying to be perfect. I trust Him more than ever now. I trust that even if I fail, I will get back up because He has a plan for my life. I know God would never forsake me, and that realization has changed how I view my education. As I start my journey into nursing, I plan to implement my faith by walking into every classroom and every hospital room knowing I am not alone. Nursing is a major shift from the runway, but I know it is where I am supposed to be to serve others. I don’t have to have all the answers or be perfect because I am relying on His strength and not my own. I want to be a testimony to my future patients who feel like they are failing or have been left behind by the people who were supposed to love them. Senior year was the hardest year of my life. The anxiety of trying to control my future nearly broke me, but it was the only way I could learn to actually let go. I couldn't have gotten through it if it wasn't for God. I am heading into this next chapter not in my own strength, but in the confidence that He is leading the way. I trust Him that even when things get difficult in my nursing studies, He will give me the strength to keep going. I am choosing to live for Him and let Him lead me through every step of this journey, knowing that His plan is better than any plan I could have perfected on my own.

It’s strange that all it takes is one moment, one seed, or one flower to redirect someone’s entire life. Much like staring at my piece of paper, debating between keeping the flower I drew in dull shading or adding watercolor for a sense of hope, I have waited patiently for the right time to make a decision that could potentially shape my future. If I were to draw this journey, it would be a flower sketched first in intense, sharp, dull pencil strokes to embrace the pain I endured, finally deciding to add splashes of watercolor to symbolize hope and taking charge of my future. This creative evolution has been a constant in my life, taking me from local art displays at the West Oaks Mall to the high stakes environment of being a featured designer with RIF Academy during a major fashion show in Atlanta. Back in 2021, when I was thirteen, I was already running my own art business, BlinkArt. My passion for art burned like the sun, giving me energy and motivation to strive for more. Each sketch planted a seed to be my drive, my coping mechanism, and finally my voice. This drive manifested in my dedication to the International Thespians Club, where I served as secretary and won an excellent rating in the international competition. However, art was also a distraction from the insecurities I carried throughout my life. Every stroke, line, and smudge was a reflection of emotions I couldn’t bring myself to say aloud. Owning my business helped me find my voice again and provided the strength to speak out against my biggest bullies: my brother, who stepped on the seeds; my insecurities, which poisoned the flower; and my dad, who ignored me when I needed him most, leaving the plant to wither. On February 10, 2024, while setting up my table on a stormy day, the secret slipped out to someone who saw through my drawings. The storm quieted, freeing me from silence as insecurities bloomed into words and trauma went from thunder to drizzle. The secret was out, my roots grew, and I began to blossom into a new form. I stopped protecting the people who trampled on me. I began to stand my ground and build my own soil to grow from, earning Cum Laude Honors and a spot in the National Honors Society through my resilience. This newfound strength allowed me to excel in my dual role as a varsity softball player and a leader in my community, showing me that I could be both soft and strong. The long journey I had ahead of me represents rain; a way for the flower to heal from the insecurities that shaped who I was and to remember the past doesn't define my growth. As I analyzed the insecurities that poisoned me about my weight, my skin, and my face, I discovered a new passion that helped me grow beyond the pain. I know what it feels like to live in a body that doesn’t feel like your own, where appearance clouds everything else. At one point, this consumed my passion for art, but the pain didn’t erase that creativity; it redirected it. This experience gave me a better purpose: to help others understand true beauty through science and aesthetics. My work as a makeup and costume assistant for productions like Newsies and Seussical taught me how to transform a person's outward appearance to reflect their inner character, a skill I hope to bring into the medical field. Now in 2026, I see my past as the roots for the person I’m becoming. I aim to educate others to understand their skin, improve texture, and prevent future issues. My growth has been shaped by self-acceptance, leading me to serve as a school nurse intern and a transporter at Advent Health, where I see the intersection of patient care and confidence every day. Whether I am assisting with a fashion show in Chicago or traveling on mission trips to Atlanta, Miami, and Kentucky with City Takers and Praying Pelicans, I am dedicated to service. Today, I am a 17 year old aspiring derm cosmetic nurse practitioner and a business owner. If given the chance to join your community, I would love to deepen my skills, study how science and aesthetics can intersect, and take girls who have similar experiences on the same journey as we bloom together. Honors and Achievements • Cum Laude Honors • Honors Roll • Won Excellent in International Thespians Competition • Art displayed at West Oaks Mall • National Honors Society • Featured Designer with RIF Academy in fashion show Atlanta Extracurricular Activities and Service • Varsity Softball • School Nurse Intern • Business owner of BlinkArt • Girls Bible study • Makeup and costume assistant for Nutcracker, Winter Showcase, Seussical, and Newsies • International Thespians Club Secretary • Mission trip with City Takers in Atlanta and Kentucky • Mission trip with Praying Pelicans in Miami • Costume Assistant for RIF Academy parade • Transporter at Advent Health • Assistant Manager for winter showcase • Fashion Show Assistant in Chicago

t’s strange that all it takes is one moment, one seed, or one flower to redirect someone’s entire life. Much like staring at my piece of paper, debating between keeping the flower I drew in dull shading or adding watercolor for a sense of hope. Waiting patiently for the right time to make a decision that could potentially shape my future. in 2021, when I was thirteen, and running my own art business. My passion for art burned like the sun, giving me energy and motivation to strive for more. Each sketch planted a seed to be my drive, my coping mechanism, and finally my voice. However, not only was art my passion, but it was also a distraction from the insecurities I carried throughout my life. Every stroke, every line, every smudge was a reflection of my emotions I couldn’t bring myself to say aloud. Owning my business helped me find my voice again. It provided me the strength to speak out against my biggest bullies: my brother, who stepped on the seeds, my insecurities poisoning, quietly destroying the flower and my dad, who completely ignored me when I needed him the most, leaving the plant to wither. The long journey I had ahead of me represents rain; a way for the flower to heal from the insecurities that shaped who I was, understand true beauty through my passion for art, and remember the past doesn't define my growth. As I started analyzing the insecurities that poisoned me for so long: about my weight, my skin, my face, all those broken petals that had been pointed out and picked apart helped me discover a new passion. One that helped me grow beyond the pain. A passion that educated me while making me feel beautiful. I know what it feels to live in a body that doesn’t feel like your own. To be so consumed by your appearance that it clouds everything else, even the things you once loved the most. At one point, it took over my passion for art, the very thing that had been with me from the start. But the pain didn’t erase that creativity; it just redirected it. It gave me a better purpose: to help others understand what true beauty is. Not the kind shaped by impossible standards or painful words, but the kind that comes from growing, enhancing, healing, educating and finally self-acceptance. Now in 2025, I see my past not as something to hide, but as the roots for the person I’m becoming and others as well. I aim to educate others to understand their skin, improve texture, tone, and prevent future skin issues. My growth has been shaped by fear, self-doubt, and self-acceptance. This experience helped me to understand what it feels like to be consumed by poisonous words as a blooming flower. Now I am a 17-year-old aspiring derm cosmetic nurse practitioner and a business owner. If given the chance to join your community, I would love to deepen my skills, study how science and aesthetics can intersect, and take girls who have similar experiences on the same journey as we bloom together. If I were to draw this essay, it would be a flower: sketched first in intense, sharp, dull pencil strokes to embrace the pain I endured. Then finally, deciding to add splashes of watercolor, symbolizing hope and taking charge of my future and helping others do the same.

My passion for art burned like the sun, giving me energy and what sparked a dream to strive for more. Each sketch planted a seed to be my drive, my coping mechanism, and finally my voice. However, not only was art my passion, but it was also a distraction from the insecurities I carried throughout my life. Every stroke, every line, every smudge was a reflection of my emotions I couldn’t bring myself to say aloud. Owning my business helped me find my voice again. It provided me the strength to speak out against my biggest bullies: my brother, who stepped on the seeds, my insecurities poisoning, quietly destroying the flower and my dad, who completely ignored me when I needed him the most, leaving the plant to wither. On February 10, 2024, while setting up my table for my drawings and daydreaming on my future goals on what seemed like another stormy day, the secret slipped out to someone who saw through my drawings. The storm quieted, freeing me from silence as insecurities bloomed into words, and trauma went from thunder to drizzle. The secret was out, my roots grew, I began to blossom a new form. I stopped protecting the people who trampled on me. I began to stand my ground and build my own soil to grow from. The long journey I had ahead of me represents rain; a way for the flower to heal from the insecurities that shaped who I was, understand true beauty through my passion for art, and remember the past doesn't define my growth. As I started analyzing the insecurities that poisoned me for so long: about my weight, my skin, my face, all those broken petals that had been pointed out and picked apart helped me discover a new passion. One that helped me grow beyond the pain. A passion that educated me while making me feel beautiful. I know what it feels to live in a body that doesn’t feel like your own. To be so consumed by your appearance that it clouds everything else, even the things you once loved the most. At one point, it took over my passion for art, the very thing that had been with me from the start. But the pain didn’t erase that creativity; it just redirected it. It gave me a better purpose: to help others understand what true beauty is. Not the kind shaped by impossible standards or painful words, but the kind that comes from growing, enhancing, healing, educating and finally self-acceptance. Now in 2025, I see my past not as something to hide, but as the roots for the person I’m becoming and others as well. my dream is to educate others to understand their skin, improve texture, tone, and prevent future skin issues. My growth has been shaped by fear, self-doubt, and self-acceptance. This experience helped me to understand what it feels like to be consumed by poisonous words as a blooming flower. Now I am a 17-year-old aspiring derm cosmetic nurse practitioner and a business owner. If given the chance to join your community, I would love to deepen my skills, study how science and aesthetics can intersect, and take girls who have similar experiences on the same journey as we bloom together. If I were to draw this essay, it would be a flower: sketched first in intense, sharp, dull pencil strokes to embrace the pain I endured. Then finally, deciding to add splashes of watercolor, symbolizing hope and taking charge of my future.

Some flowers grow in the dark and almost give up before they ever see the sun. That was me. I spent years hiding behind my art, drawing what I could not say aloud. Every sketch held my fear, my shame, my insecurities about my skin, my weight, my face. I felt small, trapped, like I could never grow or be seen. Art became my only place to breathe, my way to survive when the world felt heavy. Every line I drew was me trying to make sense of myself, trying to find a way to be brave. Over time I realized that growth is not just about surviving, it is about helping others grow too. That realization is why I want to be a nurse. Nursing is care in its purest form. It is seeing someone when no one else does, being patient when they are scared, and helping them feel safe in a world that sometimes makes them feel invisible. I want to give that kind of care to people. I am especially drawn to dermatology and cosmetic nursing because skin is often where insecurities first appear. I know what it feels like to feel trapped in a body that does not feel like yours, and I want to help people feel comfortable and confident in their own skin. I already try to give back through volunteering at AdventHealth as a transporter. I walk patients to appointments, sometimes helping them navigate long hallways when they feel weak or scared. I talk with them when they are nervous or quiet. Sometimes it is just a smile or a simple conversation, but I see how much it matters. Those moments remind me that nursing is more than medicine. It is being present, noticing small things, and showing people they are not alone. I want to keep giving back by teaching patients about their skin, helping them take care of themselves, and giving encouragement when they feel small. Like a flower sketched in pencil to show pain and then painted with watercolor to show hope, I want to help people grow through their struggles. I want them to see that they can bloom even after being in the dark. At seventeen, I see my past not as something to hide but as the soil that made me who I am. I want to be the sunlight and water for others that people have been for me. I want to help patients feel seen, heard, and cared for. I want to help them bloom.

Some flowers grow in the dark and almost give up before they ever see the sun. That was me. I spent years hiding behind my art, drawing what I could not say out loud. Every sketch held my fear, my shame, my insecurities about my skin, my weight, my face. Every time someone made me feel invisible or unworthy, I closed in more. I thought maybe I wasn’t meant to bloom. I thought maybe I wasn’t meant to be seen. I tried to survive quietly, keeping my thoughts and feelings locked away in sketches and notebooks, afraid to let anyone see the real me. Then I met Ms. Smith, my Thespian teacher. She saw me when no one else did. She pushed me, challenged me, and helped me find my creative zone. She guided me through the International Thespian Competition in Makeup Design. Every brushstroke, every choice, every moment of doubt I had, she was there helping me push past it. When I earned an Excellent rating, it was more than a medal. It was proof that someone believing in you can make you brave enough to grow, even when you have spent years feeling invisible. She taught me to trust myself, to trust my creativity, and to believe that my work has value even when the world makes me feel small. Ms. Smith and the other women who mentored me taught me something I could not have learned alone. Pain does not define you. Fear does not define you. The people who ignore you, the words that tear you down, the insecurities you carry inside, they can become the soil for your growth if you let them. Every struggle, every tear, every moment I felt unseen was like water seeping into the soil, helping me grow roots I didn’t even know I had. I want to be that for other young women. I want them to know it is okay to hurt, to feel ugly, to feel small. I want them to see that their struggles are not weeds to hide but roots to grow from. I want them to feel seen and heard and supported. I want them to know that someone cares enough to help them bloom. At seventeen, I finally see my past not as something to hide but as the soil that made me who I am. Like a flower first sketched in pencil to show pain and then brushed with watercolor to show hope, my journey honors struggle and growth. I want to give to others what I was given. I want to be someone who waters the flowers around me. I want to show other young women that even when they feel broken or small, they can bloom. They can grow stronger, they can grow beautiful, and they can grow into themselves. I want to help them find the sunlight and water they need to flourish. I want them to know that being seen, being heard, and being encouraged is one of the most powerful things in the world. Every time I think of the mentors who helped me, I think of the flowers they helped me become. They reminded me that growth takes time, patience, and care. They reminded me that even in the darkest soil, roots can reach down and draw strength. They reminded me that someone believing in you can change your entire world. I want to be that person. I want to help young women who feel lost, small, or unseen to grow, to bloom, and to realize that their pain does not define them.

It is strange how one moment, one seed, can quietly change the course of a life. For me, that seed was first planted through art. As a young teenager running my own art business, art became my voice, my refuge, and my way of coping with feelings I could not speak aloud. Every sketch reflected my emotions, especially insecurities about my skin, my weight, and my appearance. I felt like a flower growing in rocky soil, struggling to reach the sun while being weighed down by fear, judgment, and self-doubt. Every harsh word and every silent look felt like weeds trying to choke my confidence. Learning to face those feelings and nurture myself changed everything. Through exploring dermatology and cosmetic science, I realized that healing is not just physical, it is emotional as well. The right care can make someone feel safe, seen, and understood. That understanding inspired me to pursue nursing. Nursing represents the care I once needed: guidance without judgment, comfort without conditions, and healing that reaches the whole person. I am especially drawn to dermatology and cosmetic nursing because skin often shows the pain we hide and is also the place where confidence can bloom. Like a flower, patients need attention, patience, and care to grow strong and beautiful. To me, human touch is at the heart of nursing. It is more than a hand on a shoulder or a gentle touch. It is presence, patience, and empathy. Human touch is a nurse who listens when a patient is scared, explains when they are confused, and reassures when they feel exposed or vulnerable. I know how much it matters to be seen, especially when you feel disconnected from your own body. A kind word, a soft touch, and someone simply being there can turn fear into trust and treatment into healing. Human touch helps patients feel safe, respected, and confident, giving them the courage to grow, just like a flower reaching toward the sun. I also believe human touch is about understanding the small, unseen details of someone’s life. It is noticing when someone flinches, when their hands shake, or when their eyes avoid contact. It is holding space for their fear, their pain, and their hopes. These small acts of care can be as powerful as medicine itself. I have seen how being heard and cared for can change someone’s day, or even their life. That is what I want to bring to nursing: the awareness that every patient deserves to feel seen and safe, every flower deserves water, sunlight, and space to grow. Now, at seventeen, I see my past not as something to hide, but as the roots of who I am becoming. I aspire to be a dermatology cosmetic nurse practitioner who educates, heals, and empowers others, especially young women, to embrace their own growth and redefine beauty through care, confidence, and self-acceptance. Like a flower first drawn in dull pencil to show pain and then colored in watercolor to show hope, my journey honors my struggles while blooming into purpose, healing, and hope. My experiences have taught me that growth does not erase pain; it transforms it into strength, compassion, and understanding. I want to help patients bloom in the same way, showing them that healing, care, and human touch can make all the difference.

Yes, you caught me I do scroll on my phone at 3 am watching influencers wishing that was me. I want to get myself out there and pursue modeling and fashion. I want to be one of the phone I see at 3 am and I’m not afraid of putting myself out there .