“Only when we are brave enough to explore the darkness will we discover the infinite power of our light.” - Brene Brown.
There have been many dark times in my life that have shaped me into the person I am today. I went into cardiac arrest at age 13 due to an eating disorder and heat stroke. I was resuscitated and rushed to the hospital. There, doctors confronted me about my frighteningly low growth charts. I sat in that cold hospital bed and cried as my darkest secret—my eating disorder—was finally exposed. It had been my reaction to overwhelming emotional pain for over a year.
I struggled with my self-image at a young age. Family and peer remarks regarding appearance stung, and as a product of a broken home with an unstable home life, I often felt powerless. I clung to control where and when I could, especially in how I treated and thought about myself. Middle school unleashed bullying and destroyed friendships that exacerbated anxiety and depression. I began to deteriorate mentally as I resorted to restrictive eating, eating less than 1,000 calories daily.
I am not proud of that period—but I am not ashamed, either. It speaks to a society that pushes young people to be perfect, but doesn't provide them with healthy coping mechanisms. Eating disorders are very stigmatized, but body dissatisfaction is the norm. That disconnect is how I became a community mental health advocate. I work with Missouri Rotary to promote more access to mental health care and to create open conversation within my community.
Despite the darkest hour, I've discovered my light's strength. Although I did not realize it at the time, the services I engaged in after hospitalization saved my life. Through those programs, I initiated therapy, began attending support groups, and established healthier coping mechanisms. I discovered that recovery is not always straightforward—but it is possible. I now live more openly, embracing vulnerability and urging others to do the same. It's okay not to be okay.
My journey has taught me empathy, self-awareness, and resilience. These experiences have shaped my goals. I am going to study business administration, not just to lead, but to transform how leadership thinks about mental health. Too often, the corporate world neglects the emotional wellbeing of its employees. I would like to create a future where mental health is a business leader's priority, where vulnerability is a sign of strength, and where humans are valued as more than their productivity.
Specifically, I would like to initiate a mental-health-first movement in corporate structures, namely trauma-informed leadership structures. This movement would train executives and managers to be sensitive to employees' psychological and emotional requirements, to develop accommodating wellness policies, and to build a workplace culture where mental well-being is proactively nurtured. I believe business can be both high-functioning and humane—and I'd love to be part of the generation to make that clear.
I also have significant financial needs. I am solely responsible for funding my own education, since my mother is going through a quiet and tumultuous divorce in an abusive household. This has forced me to take on financial responsibility outside of school, as I work to support myself and prepare for the steep decline—over 75%—in our household income that will come when she completely separates. Helping my mother gain independence and emotional safety is a burden I carry heavily, and I'm committed to doing everything I can to reduce the burden on her while building a future for myself. Receiving this scholarship would not only finance my academic dreams—it would also allow me to continue fighting for mental health in meaningful ways without compromising the health of my family.
I’m grateful for the chance to live this “second life.” As Brené Brown said, I’ve explored the darkness—and now, I’m committed to using my light to help others find theirs.