When I was 7 years old, they legalized gay marriage, an impact that would make my life less miserable. At 5 years old, I came back from kindergarten bright-eyed, telling my stepmom I was going to marry the one girl in my class. Originally, she brushed it off, thinking maybe she was just a great friend, but she still worried. Not about me being a lesbian, but instead about the fact that it was frowned upon in society. At 10 years old, I was called gay in the lunch line, and it confused me. What did that mean? I didn't know what being gay meant, nor why it was an insult. I ended up asking my stepmom about it, and she explained it to me. It made sense, maybe I was gay, but I wasn't going to tell anyone that. Why would I? Everyone else saw it as a bad thing. Sitting next to my Abuelita in church, I listened to the words of my pastor as he talked about relationships. How love between a man and a woman was divine and pure, but any other relationship was corrupt and evil. It hurt when I told my little sister, someone who made a huge impact on who I am, as she looked at me with disgust and told me I was going to burn in hell. Hearing it from other people didn't bother me, but my little sister, it hit me hard. 2 years later, my mental health was impacted, realizing my mother's side of the family wouldn't talk to me, my dad's parents looked at me differently, and even my dad started to distance himself. What was the point of living if everyone I loved looked at me with hate? I couldn't help it, so I pretended I was straight to please them, but I thought about it long and hard. If I couldn't be happy, then I couldn't live. At 14 years old, I met my first girlfriend at our freshman homecoming. She was a friend of my friend; we started talking, and soon I asked her out. I, at the time, thought that our relationship was going well, until I found out that she didn't want to tell anyone about our relationship. We had to be 'friends' whenever we hung out with them. I think a part of them still knew that we were together in secret. We ended up breaking up over the summer, 2 years later, as our communication was little to none, and I was working full-time. Over the years and growing up, I have been impacted by my sexuality for better and for worse.

Have you ever had a moment where you thought you were dying, and didn't know what was next? Because I have, during one of the worst moments in my generation's history. Covid was a terrible time for all of us, and left many people afraid, me included. My family was downstairs watching a movie, while I was upstairs reading on my bed. The next thing I know, I'm on the ground, my body aches, and it's all a blur. People in blue suits are talking to me. I don't remember what they asked, but my dad looked terrified when he looked at me. The next thing I know, I'm in the back of an ambulance, and I look towards my dad and ask, "Am I dying?" to which I got no response, scaring me even more before I passed out. I lay in the hospital bed, confused and wondering why the light was so bright, and if someone could turn it off. With a parched mouth, ringing ears, and blurry eyes, I looked to my left, where my dad was in the uncomfortable hospital chair. I couldn't see much of his face because of the mask, and I quickly realized I wore one as well. After a couple of minutes or maybe hours, time was weird when you didn't have a pair of glasses on, and time was the least of your concerns. A doctor arrives, and she talks to me in a soft, spoken voice you would use on little kids. I was told I had a seizure, and all I could think was, 'What the heck is a seizure?' After a brief explanation, I somewhat grasp the gist of what it is. She tells me that it could just be because I'm growing, and it was a one-time thing. Which my dad and I both hoped, but it wasn't. A couple of months later, we're celebrating my great-grandmother's birthday at a diner she loved, and everything feels like a haze from entering the restaurant to sitting in the back seat going home. When I went home, I felt like taking a shower, as I went to lock the door, something inside me, whether it be my guts or something more, told me to leave it unlocked. This was my second seizure, confirming I indeed had epilepsy. Getting the diagnosis after my second seizure changed how I viewed myself. At first, I was upset, angry. How could this happen to me? But soon I had to accept it into my everyday life. The doctors soon told me ways that I could help prevent these seizures, exercise, eating healthy, and sleeping more. Through following these ideas, I felt better, less drowsy, it improved my mood, and I could go throughout the day without struggling. I am grateful for my parents and sister always making sure I was safe, even if it's just a shampoo bottle dropping in the shower and having to yell to them that I'm okay. They have been there for me since the beginning and helped encourage me to keep moving forward. If I am awarded this scholarship, I want to use it for my tuition towards a degree in forensics. Solving mysteries has always been an interest of mine since I was little, and I believe following this goal will lead me where I want to go. Helping others with what is unknown to them.