"Are you scared?" would've been so important. I could've just denied it anyways, but at least in my own head I would be able to admit to myself that I was scared, and if I put on a brave face I could make it. There were so many things my mom wanted to push me to do. To become a musician, to become an actor, to become a dancer, she wanted me to do all the things I loved doing. I commend her for that, but in the face of fear, I would constantly back out or degrade my talents to make myself not want to come out of my shell. To her, it was, "Well, why don't you? You're just too afraid to try." or "You're too scared to fail and that's sad". Who in the world wants to fail at the things they think they're good at? Why would I want to show a piece of myself to people, or even just one person, if there's a possibility of no longer being able to look at a talent or trait the same way ever again? It was never a question, it was a pointing finger of saying I was scared, which enraged me even more. When I was 13, I auditioned for an arts high school in Los Angeles and I didn't get in. I stopped acting after that and stopped trying to put myself out into the theater life again. For years, my mom would torment me with the words of me being too scared to ever try again. As I entered college, I thought of being a musician because I have always loved making music. My mom was excited because I was finally taking a chance on something I loved, but I soon realized I no longer wanted to pursue something that had no definite career ending. To this, I heard the words once again that I was just scared and I was selling myself short because I was scared. Had someone asked if I was scared, I feel like it wouldn't be that pointing finger anymore, but someone who wanted to listen to why I was so scared and understand. "Are you scared?" Yes, I'm actually terrified of a lot of things. It's why I don't like to be myself all the time, it's why I box myself away, it's why I no longer have confidence in things I love, and it's why I no longer try to shoot for further than what my eyes can see. I'm scared, but I still want someone to ask instead of making me feel like being scared is foolish. One only knows how foolish it is to be scared of something, until they are living their life in a scared person's shoes.

When I became 15, I noticed the sudden shift in self love and depression. I went to a doctor and described what I was feeling, which resulted in an anxiety disorder and depression diagnosis. My mother and I had a deep conversation on the matter, to which she told me, "Everyone goes through these things, it'll pass with time.". I waited for this "time" thing to help me out, but the growing sensation of hurt kept growing. Covid hit shortly after my doctor visit, which only made matters worse. I felt alone in my own home, I felt trapped, and it also felt like no one really wanted to try to be around me. That was when the self harm came in. I thought to myself, "I feel numb, I feel worthless, I feel so much anger, there's no other way that I can get this all out.". For a long time I relied on the release of physical pain because it was easier than talking. It wasn't until my mom found out that self harm became more of a secret act of punishment instead of a release. I felt that since I was older and no punishment could necessarily hurt me, I could hurt myself. For years I kept this mindset and hid every scar that I could. She would sometimes do small routine checks, but I'd usually find different places that she wouldn't look. One day, as she was working on a project, she stood in front of me and asked if I had still been harming myself. Of course I lied and said I didn't, but then she continued on to tell me that no matter how alone I feel with my mind, that there's always going to be someone who understands me. As she told me this, she lifted up here sleeve and put her arms to the light. I was so confused until I looked closer and saw her scars. I cried in her arms saying I was sorry and that I never knew she went through the same hurt I did. My mom held me and said she understood me, but that there's always better ways. I still continued on after this, it was a bad habit to kick. It became an internal thing as time moved forward. Any feeling I didn't like feeling meant resorting to harming myself. It became a horrible secret of mine and dug me deeper into my hole of depression. During the ages of 16-17, my grandmother came to visit me a lot. She had cancer and it affected the portion that controls speech and cognitive skills. I would constantly ask her questions of her childhood because I knew one day she'd no longer be able to tell me. After the previous discussion with my mom, I started to ask my grandmother about her mental health growing up. My grandma lost her father at 12 years old, and she told me the day she found out, she tried to drown herself in sleeping pills. She cried as she told me her sisters rushed her to the hospital to get the medication pumped out of her system. The generational hurt has always stuck with me. Learning that I have never been alone in my mental health, or the unhealthy coping mechanisms. It has also made me think though, is this type of hurt and coping hereditary? Why is it that we are so similar in wanting to hurt ourselves as a way of relief? We have all struggled somehow, I just wish we were all kinder to ourselves.

I believe I resonate the most with Michael Scott, but unlike him being unapologetically himself, he's who I am on the inside. His quirkiness in the workplace to his most serious moments has always made me feel at one with him. For me, Michael Scott is the boss everyone wants, but when they have it they feel overwhelmed. In a way, I feel the same too. I feel like a lot of my characteristics are looked at as fun to be around and sweet, but when people get close enough and I can let those colors really shine, it's no longer a quirk but an area for judgement. The way Michael loves is something I can resonate with the most. He loves all his employees in their own small way, and when he loves someone romantically, he sews their existence into his brain and lovingly holds onto the thought of them. My sense of humor because of Michael Scott has become very childish. I catch myself quite a lot saying "That's what she said", in any given moment. The Office set me up for what a job should look like, like a community. I started watching the show when I was 15, during COVID. Once COVID allowed us to go back outside I got my first job. I'm so lucky I was able to experience that same playfulness in my first job as I saw in the office. To this day, I still believe we should all be a little like Michael Scott. To love a little more, give a little more, and enjoy a little more. That's what she said.

I know, as many do, that when you're growing up everything feels so new and sometimes it feels like your walls are caving in. The balance of being your own person has a severe toll on all of us, especially in the prime years of trying to "figure it out". As I've gotten older I've learned the power of optimism, what it means to be dealt the undesirable cards and to make the best of them. I wasn't always a "look on the bright side" kind of person. I remember being 13-17 truly believing that no one was on my side and that nothing in life had true purpose to it. I put myself in positions of hurt and danger because to me, none of it mattered. My huge awakening was when I started to take things too far and felt shame of hiding them. I realized that if I was shameful of what someone else may think, why do I not feel shameful for bringing hardships onto myself? I saw how much it hurt others to see me not caring for myself and had to search within me to understand why I couldn't have the same level of empathy for myself as others did. Since then, my goals have turned into giving what I already have to those who have nothing. Whether it be money, patience, compassion, or time. All I want to be in my life is a good person and to make others feel like they belong in situations where they feel they don't, and if I can't do that, I want them to feel understood. I have always wanted to give more than what I have, but it's the balance of knowing when I have enough of something to share. I want to be a good person on this Earth, but also a good person to myself. My relationships are built off of understanding and compassion as well because I will never truly know what someone is going through. I would rather be understanding of someone not being able to make a hangout than to guilt them about not coming. My biggest take away from what I have been through is how I see the world now. No matter what I go through, I always see tomorrow as another day I can live. I can apply that anywhere, in my relationships, in my school, in my work place. Instead of thinking of what the day has brought me, I think of what tomorrow has to offer. I reflect on what could be altered on my part, but I also realize that not everything is mine to control. Life moves on and it's my job to sit in my hurt, or take the steps to heal from it.