Through my eyes, I want to share the journey of loss and hope that has shaped my life. My name is Faith Sarres. I was born in Long Beach, California, into a family of seven. Despite my mother's flawed situation, my childhood was filled with good memories and dreams of becoming a doctor. However, things changed dramatically when I was nine years old. My mother fled to Arizona to escape the abuse inflicted by my biological father, seeking safety for me and my siblings. She met the wrong people and fell into drugs. Her boyfriend was one of those people. Over time, her misconceptions resulted in an oversight that gradually became more significant. As a result, my siblings and I were placed under the custody of the Department of Child Safety (DCS). My mom did everything in her power to get us back. Unexpectedly, on December 3rd, 2017, my mom passed away. I was eleven years old. It changed me in every way: my future, my mind, and my heart. For four years, I was filled with affliction and confusion with no direction. I was consumed by solitude and resentment. My mind was like a blank piece of paper: I felt empty. Subconsciously, I continued moving forward and persisting. After five years, I was adopted by my Nana, who gave us a home despite her limitations. My siblings and I were finally together. But, it didn't stay that way. My sister Ilyssa, struggling with long-term drug addiction, died from a fentanyl overdose on July 12, 2023, at the age of twenty. I was pulled in two directions; I stood between good and evil. Going left crowded my mind with resentment, bitterness, and wrath. The right was filled with patience, love, healing, and strength. "Who will I allow myself to be?" I asked myself. I took a good look at both directions and saw many things. I learned going left led me toward a place I was running from. I refused to walk that path. I decided to sit, feel and cope to heal. I was done with hiding and ignoring my grief and pain. I chose to go right. I learned to create a healthy way to grieve and heal. Turning my pain and resentment into a source of strength and love was eye-opening. I see that strength as my superpower. Drawing, writing, creating, building positive relationships, helping others, self-care, attending college, researching, and gaining knowledge are passions I use to heal. Many don't get the help they need; this included my mom and sister. I want to help those people. My devotion to becoming a Naturopathic Doctor comes from wanting to heal the helpless and hopeless—those who need help. This is my passion and healing. Writing, especially, allows me to feel and heal. Each word melts away my overwhelmed mind and helps me to articulate my emotions, helping tremendously with healing. Every process shaped me into who I am. My suffering has been a significant teacher in understanding true hope. Along my path, I met people like me—people who are always kind and persistent through tragedy. A man named Andrew helped me see the knowledge and patience I lacked. His life was filled with adversity and destitution, but he was kind and deeply cared for society despite what he was going through. Despite life not giving him much, he still showed what he made out of it. I'm thankful for all of the above. I am loved and cared for knowing there are such people. I want to be like him. I choose right.

Everyone faces adversity in their life. My name is Faith Sarres, and I want to share my journey of overcoming significant challenges that have shaped who I am today. I was born in Long Beach, California, into a family of 5, not including myself and my little brother yet to come. Despite my mother's flawed financial and physical situation, my childhood was filled with good memories—family movie nights, games, and arts and crafts. However, things changed dramatically when I was nine years old. My mother fled to Arizona to escape the abuse by the hand and knuckle of my biological father, seeking safety for my siblings and me. We settled in our new place, "home," but it didn't stay that way. My mother was young, and her misconceptions resulted in an oversight that gradually became more significant. As a result, my siblings and I were placed under the custody of the Department of Child Safety (DCS). I lost my home, and they separated me from my siblings. We were alone. I moved from one group home to another, and for most of my childhood, I didn't know where I was or where I was going. In those homes, I faced bullying and violence from others. To cope, I'd bury myself in books, surrounding myself with more than what I saw for myself. I held onto hope that my mother would reunite us, and for ten months, we dreamed of going back home. My mom did everything in her power to get us back. Abruptly, on December 3rd, 2017, my mom passed away. I lacked the love that was once unconditional in my life. Despite this, something beautiful was beginning to form inside of me. However, at the time, I was consumed by great solitude and resentment toward many things. Amid the despair, I was confused and alone with no guidance; it was terrifying. Amid this darkness, I began to understand a critical lesson: the importance of processing pain rather than allowing it to define me. I realized many people become trapped in bitterness, allowing it to dictate their lives. People don't go beyond resentment, they don't go beyond the wrath one feels. No matter, this will lead you to a place you've been running from. My experiences taught me that those who embrace their pain can transform it into strength. This mindset shift became essential to my survival and growth. My oldest sister, Ilyssa Mariah Sarres, passed away from a fentanyl overdose 1 year ago this month. Because of who life made me and what I have made out of life, instead of succumbing to bitterness, I chose hope. I refuse to allow grief to consume me. My life experiences have instilled in me a sense of resilience and a desire to help others facing similar adversities. For anyone grappling with the pain of loss or separation, my advice is simple: embrace your emotions. Acknowledge your pain and allow it to be a part of your journey, but don’t let it define you. Use it as fuel to propel yourself forward. Surround yourself with supportive people and seek out resources that can help you navigate your struggles. Healing is possible, but it requires courage and a willingness to confront your feelings. Through my challenges, I've learned that hope can emerge from despair. I have transformed my pain into a source of strength and determination. "Heros use pain, villains are used by it." -Alex Hormozi. We have the power to choose our response to adversity.