My experience with mental health shaped my future career path, which is to be a therapist. During the COVID-19 pandemic, like most of the world, I struggled with my mental health. For most of my life, I have dealt with anxiety. But once the lockdown started, I realized that I also experienced depression. However, I kept these emotions bottled up because I was afraid to share what I was experiencing. I did not even know how to express what I was feeling. I was also afraid that if I were to open up with someone, they would view me differently. When I finally gained the courage to speak up, I felt like a burden. Unfortunately, I came to the conclusion that there was no way for me to deal with my mental illnesses. I felt overwhelmed when I did not talk about it, but I felt guilty when I did talk about it. Eventually, I decided that I wanted to start therapy. I quickly realized that trying to ignore my mental health was only creating more problems in my life. Within the first session, my views were instantly changed. I used to think that courage meant being strong, unbreakable, and tough. But then, I learned that the bravest thing that a person can do is be vulnerable. It takes some serious courage to be honest with yourself and others about how you are truly feeling. It did not make me weak when I opened up about my depression to my parents. It made me stronger, and it made them stronger too. I realized that once I stopped being afraid of expressing my emotions, other people around me started to do the same. When I would talk to a friend or family member about my mental health, it created a space for an open conversation for them to share their experiences as well. With this, I learned the vital skills of communication and setting boundaries. By navigating my mental health, and my friends or family members' mental health, I was put in tough situations. However, I was tenacious and learned that the hardest conversations are the most rewarding. I have the close relationships that I do now because we had difficult conversations and overcame them. So, this brings me to my future goal of being a therapist. As I talked about my and others' mental health, I realized how much I loved being able to connect with other people. I was happy that I was someone that they could trust and felt comfortable talking to about such a personal topic. I also found my passion for breaking the stigma against mental health. We all struggle with our minds, but the only way that we can overcome these thoughts is through being open with ourselves and one another. Our society has made the subject of mental health taboo, but it is our generation's duty to open up the conversation. By creating a safe space, we can save lives.

On December 24th, 2017, I lost my grandmother, Bernice, due to Parkinson's disease. I did not have a relationship with my other set of grandparents. My grandfather had died when I was a baby, so my grandmother was the only grandparent that I had a true bond with. For many years, I was angry that I had lost her. My siblings and cousins shared more of their lives with her. I felt as if I had been "cheated" out of these experiences with my grandmother. During my senior year of high school, I especially noticed my grandmother's absence. As I went through major life events like getting my first car, college acceptances, prom, and graduation, all I could think about was how desperately I wanted to share these moments with her. Sure, I had so many loved ones around me to support me, but they were not her. However, I quickly found myself focused on who was not there rather than who was there. I felt as if I took my time with my grandmother for granted. I would sigh when we would have to take her grocery shopping or mow her lawn. But after she passed, I realized how I would do anything to help her clean out her cabinets again. So, I decided to cherish the people that I have in my life. Even when my cousin Therese asks me to help her figure out how to use her Netflix account, I will be grateful that I get to spend time with her. Or when one of my neighbors tells me the same story for the fifteenth time, I will be excited to hear about their experiences. After my grandmother's passing, I wanted to focus on being present and grateful. Similarly, I often regretted the things that she did not get to experience with me. However, I often forgot to realize that there were things I did get to experience with her, like going to Sears to pick out a new outfit every time I slept over or getting to collect acorns with her around the neighborhood, even though I had twenty bags full of them on her porch already. While I may have missed out on some things with my grandmother, I gained a lifetime of memories in the twelve years I had with her. I frequently remind myself that she is always with me. I know that she was there when I picked out my prom dress. I know she was there when I moved into college. And I know she will be there when I start my first job as a therapist, get married, and retire. She is always with me. I just need to focus on the happy times we had together rather than dwell on what she may have missed. While she may not have had the opportunity to teach me how to cook (and thank goodness because she was a horrible cook), she has taught me how to fully love, and appreciate the people around me. Without her death, I would be taking so many relationships for granted. I would not have seen how my neighbors have taken me in as their own granddaughter. I would not have seen how much pride my cousin Therese takes in me and my accomplishments. As I continue to live my life, I will fight to recognize the love that surrounds me daily.

This past fall, I faced my greatest adversity when I was sexually assaulted. Like most people, I never thought that this would happen to me. I knew how to give consent, what I was comfortable with, and felt as if I was "smart." However, truly no one can predict what will happen to them, something that I had learned after my experience. After my trauma, I was faced with a multitude of challenges. I struggled to sleep at night as I was plagued with never-ending thoughts and nightmares. When I would go to class, I could not focus because I was constantly replaying that day in my mind. There would be times where I felt so incredibly overwhelmed that I would nearly cry in the middle of a lecture. I also struggled to go to places around campus, like the cafeteria, because I was afraid of seeing my abuser. When my friends finally coerced me to go to a basketball game, he was there. Instead of enjoying this normal college experience with my friends, I was engulfed by fear and anxiety. The bravest thing that I have ever done is spoken to the Title IV office. After my experience, I doubted myself. I felt as if maybe it really was not assault, maybe he just did not know, even though I clearly said no and had to kick him out of my room. I felt that I did not want to make this a "big thing" where I would constantly have to retell my story or have to see him during meetings. I also did not want him to tell his friends that I was the girl who reported him. But I battled my inner monologue and decided that in order to bring justice, I would need to speak up. So, I went with my RA to talk to Kate, the woman in charge of Title IV on campus. I recounted my trauma to her and was so proud of myself because I did not cry. We formed a plan that I felt comfortable with and she said that she would keep me updated. After that, I felt as if I could breathe. It would be a lie to say that I have fully healed from my trauma, but things certainly got easier. With the support of my friends, I began to engage in campus life again. They would go with me when I would eat or study, just so that I would not be alone. My family would regularly check up on me and share their support. Without my loved ones, I do not think that I would be where I am today. I continued to go to therapy and talk about how I was truly feeling. Being honest with myself was another big step in my healing journey. When the next semester started, I decided that I did not want to hide in my room anymore. I wanted to live my life again. So, I went to different events, hung out with my friends, and utilized the different spaces on campus. I also learned how to quiet my thoughts so that I could excel in my classes again. This process has not been easy, but I have learned so much about myself. I have seen how brave and strong I am. I am capable of doing hard things. I am capable of taking my life back.

My cousin Bruce was the smartest man that I knew. He had attended Harvard University, where he also got his Ph.D. Later, he was a professor at Cleveland State University. Bruce knew everything about arts and literature, in particular, J.R.R. Tolkien's work. We used to call him Gandalf because of his never-ending wisdom, from random facts to amazing life advice. While he may have been known to talk your ear off about his life experiences, like being a translator during WWII or when he almost flunked out of college because he was so involved in his school's play, you always learned something new. So, Bruce's most cherished aspect of himself was his brain. My grandfather had passed away when I was very young, so in many ways, Bruce filled that role. He came to all of my big life events. Him and his wife even attended grandparents day at my high school. I could not think of one event in my life that he was not a part of. In 2021, Bruce started to show signs of Alzheimers. It was difficult to see him forget our names, but he always seemed to remember some crazy story from his youth. However, we would see his frustration as he would struggle to read his favorite books, but could not remember what he had just read. His wisdom and intelligence were being stolen from him. Throughout the next few months, he would forget who we were. It was extremely draining for Therese, his wife, as she took care of him. We thought that our beloved cousin was immortal. While we used to roll our eyes when he would corner a new boyfriend with his random life stories, we would now give anything to hear about his trips to Europe. The last time that I saw Bruce was hard, yet fitting in some ways. It was Easter Sunday and my parents and I visited him with our dog, who Bruce remembered of course. Bruce and Therese had a piece of the Berlin Wall. When Therese was telling us the story of how they got this, Bruce proceeded to try to put it in his mouth. We all quickly stopped him from eating this great piece of history. When we asked why he did this, he replied "I just wanted some chocolate and wine." And for a moment, we could all laugh. Bruce was still himself. In June of 2022, Bruce passed away. While he may be gone, his memory lives on. We joked that his life was a mix of the movies Forrest Gump and Big Fish. He had these insane experiences that seemed as if some kid had made them up. And yet, they were all true. From this experience, I have learned that while they may be losing their memory, it is our responsibility to keep telling others about their lives and experiences. Therese, his wife, continues to tell us stories and antidotes about her husband's great life. His wisdom can live on.

I could hardly wait for college. But during my first semester, I fell into a deep pit of depression. For most of my life, I have struggled with depression, anxiety, and OCD. Through therapy, I learned how to cope with my mental illnesses so that I could live my life free of the voices in my head. At the beginning of the year, I faced the normal challenges of homesickness, trouble with change, and stress around the new classes. In October, I finally felt as if I had adjusted to the new environment. On October 14, 2023, my friend and I had an amazing day. We ordered our favorite foods and watched our favorite movies. During this day, I also planned to hang out with a boy for the first time. That night, I was so excited to see him that I could barely fall asleep. However, that excitement was quickly diminished when I was sexually assaulted. I remember at first being in shock that this would happen to me. My roommates tried to comfort me, but I could not shake the feelings of needing to purge my body. I had just gotten used to my new life. Now all I wanted to do was go home. After my trauma, I began to have difficulty paying attention in my classes. There were several days that I had to miss because I could not drag myself out of bed due to my depression and anxiety. I could not sleep at night because flashbacks of the experience possessed my mind. Even when I did sleep, I would have nightmares. I watched my friends live their normal college lives, like going to parties or sports games. But I spent my time locked up in my dorm because I was afraid of seeing my abuser. At the end of the semester, I finally became courageous enough to go to a basketball game. However, I could not be fully present because I knew that he was there. I felt numb for weeks. I felt as if I was dumb for letting this happen to me. I felt sorry for my friends that they had to deal with me. I felt ashamed to tell my family. I felt as if I was never going to be able to trust a romantic partner ever again. During winter break, I was finally able to heal. I decided that I did not want to allow my depression to take over my life. I got on antidepressants and started to be more honest about how I was feeling with my friends and family. When I returned to campus in January, I began to engage in regular college activities again. I hung out with my friends, went to sports games, and was able to use campus spaces. When I used to see my abuser, I would feel sick to my stomach. A wave of emotions and memories would flood over me. Then, I would spend that night replaying what had happened that day. But it got better every time I saw him. I would feel less ashamed. Less scared. Less sick. I reclaimed myself. I did not let my depression win. As the year ends, I can see how much progress I have made. I have begun to love my life again.

My life was changed after my service trip to Kermit, West Virginia. In the summer of 2022, I had the opportunity to work with ABLE Families as a camp counselor. Kermit is a very small town in the mountains. However, it suffers from a tragic opioid crisis. Going into the trip, I had expectations, but they were exceeded more than I could ever imagine. When we first got there, we were told that every child had been impacted by the epidemic in some way, whether it was a neighbor, parent, or sibling. I remember seeing the young kids eagerly flood into the building that first morning. I was not sure who was more excited for the week, us or them. I especially got close with two young girls, Garnett and her little sister Olivia. Garnett was extremely protective of her young sister, so much so that she would often give her lunch to her or miss out on different activities to help Olivia. As I observed her selflessness, I was deeply inspired that a young child could have such a big capacity to give. So, throughout the week, I made sure to take some of the responsibilities off of Garnett's plate so that she could also enjoy her camp experience. On the third day of the camp, we were walking to a park. Olivia was holding my hand and talking about how much fun she was having. When we got to the park, Olivia ran off to the swings, and then Garnett came up to me and told me how she could tell that her sister really liked and trusted me. She expressed how Olivia was usually too shy to talk to anyone other than her sister, let alone hold someone else's hand. At that moment, I realized how much of an impact I was making on their lives. Not only was I giving Olivia someone she could trust, but also giving Garnett peace of mind that someone could care for her sister other than her. This trip became extremely important to me. I view it as a stepping stone in my life. Going into the experience, I knew that I wanted to be a therapist. This opportunity only solidified my dream as I saw how I could connect with people and make a difference in their lives. I also realized that I wanted to work with children. These kids that I volunteered with that week had to deal with so much at such a young age. They had encountered poverty, death, the foster system, living without power or water, and so much more. And yet, they still possessed so much joy. They inspired me to become a child therapist. I hope to help other children by becoming someone they can trust. I want to make a difference in their lives and help them navigate any trauma they may be forced to endure. While I know that the camp counselor usually inspires the camper, in this case, these kids showed me my life passion and meaning. This will forever be known as the trip of a lifetime.

In my junior year of high school, I shadowed a school counselor who used to be a child therapist and social worker. From this opportunity, I learned about my passion of child psychology. This semester, I took a developmental psychology class, which heavily focused on this subject. I learned that when a child is traumatized at a young age, their self image is negatively impacted. They may feel as if they are "not good enough," "unworthy," or "damaged." This self narrative continues into their adulthood as they pursue romantic relationships, friendships, or careers. This trauma will haunt them as they try to move on in life. In present and future relationships, these children may adapt a fear of mistrust or abandonment. They may never have the capacity to develop healthy relationships because of what they encountered in their childhood. Another effect of trauma may push back children's development. They may never learn how to properly express or regulate their emotions. As previously mentioned, they may have trouble maintaining a positive self concept. Their emotional and cognitive development can be significantly impacted by traumatic events. Children may even regress back after exercising trauma as a way to cope. Because of this, they may never learn how to properly heal. For a final project last semester, I researched the mental health status of immigrants. A portion of my project focused on young children who had crossed the border illegally and were staying in detention centers. They found that while they were interned, they lost the ability to talk, regressed back into having accidents, experienced frequent crying/sadness, and reported thoughts of self harm or suicide. This is an example of a traumatic event causing children to lose their previously acquired skills as well as experiencing severe mental health issues. This research also supported the fact that young children in these centers are more susceptible to future mental health problems, like PTSD, anxiety, or depression. Because of this trauma, these children's development was drastically interrupted. So, in my future career, I hope to work with children. I have always dreamed about working with children because I know that I can make a difference in their lives. A few summers ago, I had the opportunity to work with children who were living in a town encountering a severe opioid epidemic. While I did not truly understand what was going on in their lives, many of them came up to me expressing how I had made a difference in their lives. In the past year, I have realized that I want to be a child therapist. I am also exploring being a social worker. Often, children do not fully understand what has happened to them until it is too late. So, in my future career, I hope to help them recover from their traumas and learn how to cope before it drastically impacts their development. I believe that our childhood is an extremely important part of our lives because we are so malleable. So, if I have the opportunity to help someone set their life up for success and happiness, then I will seize it.

The possibilities are what makes me proud to be an American. My family immigrated here in the late 1800's from a small town in what is now Hungary. They barely spoke any English and worked mostly blue collar jobs. While it was difficult to start this new life in America, they were dedicated because they knew how beneficial it would be for their future lineage. Because my family immigrated here, my great-grandfather, grandfather, father, uncles, cousins, siblings, and I had the opportunity to attend private high schools. These schools allowed us to pursue higher education and lead successful lives for ourselves. As a woman, I am well aware of the gender inequality in our country. But at the same time, I am aware of the privilege I have because I live in this country. I think of the women in the Middle East who do not have the right to go to school, have their own finances, or fulfill their dreams. In America, I can attend college, regardless of my gender. I can also enter a STEM field and not be restricted to specific jobs because of my gender. If I was not an American, my opportunities could be limited. But because I live in the country I live in, I have the ability to dream of pursuing my Bachelor's and Master's degrees, the dream to become a therapist, and the dream to start a family. While I am blessed with many freedoms in this country, I still see a lot of disparities in our country. One change that I want to see in our country is our education system. So much of Americans' opportunities for education is based on where they live. Unfortunately, if someone lives in a lower-income area, their school systems will suffer. And because they have a poor education, they have a lower chance of pursuing higher education. If I do choose to work with children in the future, I hope to inspire them to continue their education. I aspire to make a change in our world by signing petitions to help fix our education system. I think that a major reason is to why these systems suffer in our country is due to a lack of funding. If our generation can work to fix this issue, our country will raise a more intelligent, driven, and ambitious society; one that sees a value in education. In conclusion, I am grateful to be an American citizen because I have the opportunity to be who I want to be and pursue my dreams. However, I understand that not everyone in our country has the same chance that I do. I believe that if we promote a stronger education in our country, our nation will reignite its flame of possibility.