From preschool to 8th grade, I attended a private Catholic school, where I realised early on that I didn’t feel as fervent towards the faith as my classmates. Instead, I seemed to merely go through the motions of what I was taught, which I would later come to see as my first signs of being agnostic. This resistance towards what was expected of me—not immediately choosing the “right” path—allowed me to understand and eventually become a part of the LGBTQ community. Despite my future queerness, during this time I still had very visible trans- and homophobia due to a lack of queer education and compassion in the Catholic community. In fact, the first memories I can recall in which I even mentioned LGBTQ people occurred in a conversation where I expressed my rejection and confusion towards the concept of existence outside of the gender binary. Both would be dispelled, ironically, at one of the least queer-friendly places I have ever known, the country club where I used to work. There, I would scroll on Instagram before going out on the course and—over the course of the summer before my freshman year—would slowly fill my feed with queer accounts and information. When I went on to attend a public high school later that year, I was well prepared for the mostly LGBTQ friend group I fell into. With their assistance, I was able to recognise and accept my own queerness, eventually coming out as a transgender girl. This revelation allowed me to delve deeper into my own psyche and accept myself more fully but was not without difficulties. For a long time after coming out, dysphoria ruled my mind with an iron fist—ensuring whatever self-love and understanding I could garner would be half-hearted. While I have learned to accept where I am in my gender journey more fully with each passing day, it has been an uphill battle, filled with setbacks and plateaus. I am a firm believer in making the world a better place for the next generation, and thus I want to try to ensure that no trans kid who comes after me struggles like I did. I believe that if I am able to help even one gender non-conforming person, my work will have been worth it, and that has certainly influenced my future goals. As for these goals, I am hoping to get my PhD in biochemistry and eventually go into biochemical research. The world of trans healthcare is spotty at the best of times, and I hope that I will be able to develop care for those who are seeking intervention in their dysphoria—because while I have had a relatively easy time obtaining gender-affirming care, I recognise that not everyone is as lucky as me. My ultimate goal, then, is to attempt to offset as much dysphoria as I can, through the creation of potential artificial organs, new affirming procedures, and however else I can benefit the queer community. LGBTQ people have changed my life for the better, giving me a sense of purpose and camaraderie, and I intend to give back as much as I can.

From preschool to 8th grade, I attended a private Catholic school, where I realised early on that I didn’t feel as fervent towards the faith as my classmates. Instead, I seemed to merely go through the motions of what I was taught, which I would later come to see as my first signs of being agnostic. This resistance towards what was expected of me—not immediately choosing the “right” path—allowed me to understand and eventually become a part of the LGBTQ community. Despite my future queerness, during this time I still had very visible trans- and homophobia due to a lack of queer education and compassion in the Catholic community. In fact, the first memories I can recall in which I even mentioned LGBTQ people occurred in a conversation where I expressed my rejection and confusion towards the concept of existence outside of the gender binary. Both would be dispelled, ironically, at one of the least queer-friendly places I have ever known, the country club where I used to work. There, I would scroll on Instagram before going out on the course and—over the course of the summer before my freshman year—would slowly fill my feed with queer accounts and information. When I went on to attend a public high school later that year, I was well prepared for the mostly LGBTQ friend group I fell into. With their assistance, I was able to recognise and accept my own queerness, eventually coming out as a transgender girl. This revelation allowed me to delve deeper into my own psyche and accept myself more fully but was not without difficulties. For a long time after coming out, dysphoria ruled my mind with an iron fist—ensuring whatever self-love and understanding I could garner would be half-hearted. While I have learned to accept where I am in my gender journey more fully with each passing day, it has been an uphill battle, filled with setbacks and plateaus. I am a firm believer in making the world a better place for the next generation, and thus I want to try to ensure that no trans kid who comes after me struggles like I did. I believe that if I am able to help even one gender non-conforming person, my work will have been worth it, and that has certainly influenced my future goals. As for these goals, I am hoping to get my PhD in biochemistry and eventually go into biochemical research. The world of trans healthcare is spotty at the best of times, and I hope that I will be able to develop care for those who are seeking intervention in their dysphoria—because while I have had a relatively easy time obtaining gender-affirming care, I recognise that not everyone is as lucky as me. My ultimate goal, then, is to attempt to offset as much dysphoria as I can, through the creation of potential artificial organs, new affirming procedures, and however else I can benefit the queer community. LGBTQ people have changed my life for the better, giving me a sense of purpose and camaraderie, and I intend to give back as much as I can.