When confronted with adversity—whether physical challenges related to my chronic illness or the mental hurdles of neurodivergence and emotional health—I have relied on a combination of self-advocacy, adaptability, and community support to continue pursuing my career aspirations. Living with Crohn’s disease and navigating mental health conditions like borderline personality disorder and selective mutism have taught me the importance of understanding my own needs and limits. Early on, I learned to seek out and utilize disability accommodations, such as flexible deadlines, alternative communication methods, and exam modifications. These tools enabled me to participate fully in my education and leadership roles, even during periods when my health made traditional participation difficult. There have been times when simply attending class or engaging in group discussions was a challenge, but by advocating for myself and working closely with disability services, I ensured I could continue my academic journey without sacrificing my well-being. Adaptability has been key to my progress. When my health has prevented me from engaging in activities the traditional way, I have found creative solutions—like using written communication when speaking was difficult, or delegating tasks within student organizations during flare-ups of my illness. I have learned to set achievable goals, adjust my expectations, and take setbacks in stride. Learning to prioritize self-care and knowing when to ask for help have been essential practices that keep me moving forward, rather than feeling defeated by temporary obstacles. Community support has played an essential role in sustaining my motivation and perseverance. Through campus organizations like DEAL (Disability Education, Awareness, Leadership) and Alliance, I have built a network of encouragement, accountability, and practical advice. Being surrounded by others who understand the realities of living with invisible disabilities has helped me to process setbacks, celebrate progress, and maintain perspective. My peers and mentors have inspired me to keep going, even in the face of uncertainty, and have shown me that success is possible on my own terms. Importantly, each challenge I have faced has deepened my resolve to build a career in Human Resources, focused on accessibility and inclusion. Rather than viewing adversity as a barrier, I now see it as a source of empathy and perspective that I can bring to my future work. Every time I have advocated for myself, adapted to new circumstances, or leaned on my community, I have become a stronger leader and a more effective advocate. These lessons guide my ambition to support others in their own journeys, ensuring that everyone has the opportunity to achieve their goals, regardless of the obstacles they face.

Throughout my academic and personal life, I have made it a priority to support others with their mental health, drawing from my own lived experiences with disability and neurodivergence. As president of DEAL (Disability Education, Awareness, Leadership) at UW–Platteville, I have organized workshops and peer support groups focused on reducing stigma and offering practical coping strategies for students facing mental health challenges. I’ve also participated in campus organizations like Alliance, an LGBTQ+ group, where I’ve helped create safe spaces for open dialogue and mutual support. These roles have allowed me to listen to others’ stories, validate their feelings, and help connect them to resources such as counseling services and academic accommodations. Much of my support has been informal as well—checking in on friends during stressful times, offering a listening ear, and sharing techniques that have helped me manage anxiety and selective mutism. I am especially attentive to those who may struggle to express themselves or feel unseen, encouraging them to communicate in whatever way feels most comfortable. Through empathy and consistent encouragement, I strive to make sure no one feels alone in their struggles. Looking ahead, I am pursuing a degree in Human Resources with a focus on accessibility and inclusion. My goal is to use my education to advocate for mental health accommodations and to develop workplace policies that prioritize emotional well-being. I want to create environments where employees feel supported not just professionally, but personally—where conversations about mental health are normalized and help is readily available. In every setting, I plan to draw on my background in peer mentorship and advocacy to foster cultures of openness, respect, and care. Ultimately, I believe that emotional support is foundational to individual and community success. By combining my lived experience, education, and passion for advocacy, I am committed to making a difference in the lives of others—helping to build communities where everyone feels valued, understood, and empowered to seek the support they need.

Navigating life as a neurodiverse individual with multiple disabilities has shaped every aspect of who I am and how I view the world. Living with borderline personality disorder, Crohn’s disease, and experiencing traits of autism, I have faced challenges that are both visible and invisible, often struggling to fit into environments that were not designed with people like me in mind. My journey has been marked by misunderstanding, moments of isolation, and the pressure to mask my differences to meet the expectations of others. Yet, these experiences have also been a source of strength, empathy, and a drive to advocate for change. Growing up, I often felt like an outsider. In school, my selective mutism made it difficult to participate in class discussions, and I relied on written communication to express myself. My peers and teachers sometimes misinterpreted my silence as a lack of interest or ability, when in reality, it was a manifestation of my neurodivergence and anxiety. The frustration of being trapped inside my own mind, combined with the physical and emotional toll of Crohn’s disease, pushed me to seek out supportive communities where I could be understood and accepted. College has been transformative. At the University of Wisconsin–Platteville, I found friends and mentors who share similar experiences, and I became involved in organizations like DEAL (Disability Education, Awareness, Leadership) and Alliance, an LGBTQ+ group. Through these groups, I have developed leadership and advocacy skills, organized events to educate others about disability rights, and worked to create more accessible and inclusive spaces on campus. Serving as president of DEAL, I learned firsthand the power of representation and the importance of making sure all voices are heard—especially those who are often overlooked. My neurodiverse identity has also shaped my vision for the future. I am pursuing a degree in Human Resources with a focus on accessibility and inclusion. I plan to use my education to advocate for underserved communities by designing workplace policies that support people with disabilities and other marginalized identities. My goal is to ensure that everyone has access to accommodations, understanding, and opportunities to succeed, regardless of how they think, communicate, or move through the world. I want to be the advocate I needed growing up—someone who sees the potential in every individual and works tirelessly to remove barriers. Ultimately, my lived experience as a neurodiverse person with disabilities has given me resilience, compassion, and a commitment to social justice. I am determined to use these strengths, together with my education, to help build a more equitable world for all.

Selective mutism has been one of the most persistent and misunderstood challenges I have faced as an individual living with multiple mental illnesses, including borderline personality disorder, Crohn’s disease, and peer-reviewed autism. Throughout my life, I have encountered moments when speaking aloud feels impossible—when words sit on the tip of my tongue but remain trapped, unable to break free. This experience is more than shyness or nerves; it is an involuntary silencing that often occurs during periods of intense stress or emotional dysregulation, particularly when my mind splits into black-and-white thinking. In high school, before I was diagnosed, my selective mutism made me feel isolated and judged. Unable to articulate my thoughts verbally, I relied on my phone’s notes app to communicate. This coping mechanism, rather than being understood, was often met with skepticism or dismissal by teachers and peers who expected spoken participation. The frustration of having complex ideas and feelings but being unable to express them out loud left me feeling trapped inside my own mind. It was a daily struggle to be understood, to have my thoughts validated, and to prove that my silence was not a lack of intelligence or effort, but a symptom of my disabilities. My experience with selective mutism has shaped my sense of empathy and my approach to communication. I have developed a deep appreciation for alternative methods of expression, and I am especially attentive to the unspoken needs of others. This journey has taught me that everyone processes and communicates differently, and that building inclusive environments means meeting people where they are. Over time, I have become an advocate for the use of assistive technology, written communication, and supportive strategies that empower individuals with communication differences. Now in college, I have found a sense of belonging among friends who are also on the autism spectrum or living with other disabilities. Being part of a community where selective mutism and other neurodivergent experiences are understood has been transformative. I no longer feel the same pressure to “perform” or fit into neurotypical standards of communication. Instead, I am valued for my unique perspective, and I can participate in ways that feel authentic and comfortable. This support has allowed me to grow in confidence, self-acceptance, and advocacy. Pursuing higher education is important to me because it represents both a personal and collective victory over the barriers placed in front of people like me. Academia has not always been accessible or accommodating, but by earning my degree, I hope to challenge these systems from within. I want to use my education to advocate for greater understanding, accessibility, and acceptance for individuals with communication differences and invisible disabilities. My goal is to help create educational and professional spaces where everyone—regardless of how they communicate—can thrive, contribute, and be heard. My journey through selective mutism has made me resilient, compassionate, and determined to make a difference.

Living with a disability has been a defining aspect of my identity and has profoundly shaped my beliefs, relationships, and aspirations for the future. I am a genderqueer individual who uses they/she pronouns, and I live with chronic physical and mental health conditions. My journey has been marked by resilience in the face of adversity, a commitment to advocacy, and a desire to create lasting change for others navigating similar paths. Growing up in a family shaped by disability and mental illness, I learned early on that challenges could also be sources of strength and empathy. My older sibling’s struggles with bipolar II disorder, borderline personality disorder, and depression exposed me to the realities of invisible disabilities. Our home was loving, but often emotionally turbulent, and I witnessed firsthand how the lack of understanding and acceptance from the outside world could compound suffering. These experiences deeply influenced my core belief that every person—regardless of ability, gender, or background—deserves compassion, respect, and opportunities to thrive. My own disabilities have made me intimately aware of the barriers that exist for people like me. Managing chronic illness and mental health conditions alongside academic and professional responsibilities has not been easy. There have been times when my attendance, focus, and energy have been impacted by my health, and I have had to rely on disability accommodations to participate fully in my education. Losing a job due to ADA incompatibility and struggling with the high cost of medical care further highlighted the systemic inequities that people with disabilities face. These challenges, while difficult, have taught me the importance of self-advocacy and the need for accessible environments where everyone can succeed. My experiences have also shaped the way I build and sustain relationships. I have learned to value honesty, vulnerability, and mutual support in my friendships and family connections. My disability has made me more attuned to the struggles of others, and I strive to be a source of empathy and encouragement. These values have guided me in developing supportive communities, both informally with friends and formally through campus organizations. Leadership and advocacy have become central to my story. As president of DEAL (Disability Education, Awareness, Leadership) at UW–Platteville, I have organized educational events, advocated for disability rights and accommodations, and worked to create more accessible campus environments. My involvement with the Women in STEM office and Alliance (an LGBTQ+ organization) has further honed my skills in community building, peer mentorship, and event planning. In each role, I have learned that leadership is about listening, adapting, and empowering others as much as it is about guiding or organizing. These experiences have directly informed my career aspirations. I am pursuing a degree in Human Resources with a focus on accessibility and inclusion. My goal is to design and implement policies that support individuals with disabilities and marginalized identities in both educational and workplace settings. I want to be the advocate I needed growing up, ensuring that everyone has the support, respect, and opportunities they deserve. Ultimately, my journey with disability has made me a more compassionate, determined, and effective leader—one who is committed to building a world where equity and belonging are not just ideals, but realities.

One of the most defining challenges of my life has been growing up in a household shaped by disability and mental illness. My older sibling has lived with bipolar II disorder, borderline personality disorder, anxiety, and depression for as long as I can remember. Their mental health struggles, including periods of suicidality, cast a long shadow over my childhood, introducing a sense of unpredictability and fear that most children are spared. This environment demanded that I become emotionally attuned from a young age, always assessing the situation at home and adjusting my behavior to help maintain a fragile sense of stability. My family, loving yet often emotionally turbulent, had to adapt to these realities. During some of my most formative years, my siblings stepped in as caregivers, guiding me through difficulties while themselves bearing the weight of our circumstances. While I was certainly a victim of these challenges, I have also come to realize that I sometimes contributed to the emotional stress within our home, even as I was trying to cope. This realization was painful but necessary; it allowed me to see my family members, and myself, with greater compassion and understanding. As I grew older, I began to share in some of the same mental health challenges as my sibling. Navigating anxiety and depression while pursuing my education and building a sense of self was often overwhelming. However, these experiences forced me to confront my vulnerabilities, reach out for help, and develop coping strategies that would serve me well into adulthood. Through therapy, peer support, and campus organizations, I learned that strength could be found in vulnerability and that seeking support is not a weakness but a vital act of self-advocacy. Now, as an adult, my relationship with my family has transformed. While the scars of our shared history remain, we have found ways to communicate openly and support each other. Every visit home is an opportunity for my sibling and me to process how our invisible disabilities shape our daily lives. The loss of my uncle to suicide—an event that deeply affected my family—reinforced my belief that mental health struggles are complex and deeply personal. I have come to accept that while I can offer support and love, I cannot control the choices others make in the face of overwhelming pain. Through these challenges, I have grown into someone who values empathy, emotional sensitivity, and resilience. I carry with me a deep commitment to supporting others facing invisible disabilities, both within my family and my broader community. My experiences have taught me the importance of compassion and the necessity of creating spaces where people feel safe to share their struggles. Most importantly, I understand that personal growth often comes from facing adversity head-on, learning to accept what cannot be changed, and working to make a difference where I can.