I once had a psychologist beg me to not pursue her same career path. Her career was a draining and thankless pursuit. While psychology is advertised as a field that gives people a sense of fulfillment, the reality often times leaves you feeling hopeless. The staff are limited in power. They cannot change a patients home life or fund the treatment they need. Therapy can only do so much good when the patient has no home to return to. I have seen what this career looks like and I now it loses all its glamor after you begin failing to save people. To the dismay of that psychologist, I refused to give up on my dream. I know the job can be heartbreaking, but that doest’t mean it is not worth doing. It is a valid response to feel hopeless after several patients fail to recover. However, that hopeless feeling arises from the unsuccessful attempts overshadowing the successes. I believe that the mindset that forms after giving up on patients causes lower quality treatment. The staff May unconsciously be giving their patients biased treatment in this way. Of course a patient will fail to recover if even the person helping doesn’t believe in them. There may be only so much the staff can do, but they can make a difference in the short times those kids are in their care. It can feel hopeless after having no way to ensure they get the care they need after they are released. However, even the smallest bit of support can make a huge difference in the long run. I couldn’t help those kids then, not only because I was another patient, due to not knowing how. That is why I am studying psychology. The world has already given up on those with mental health issues. By turning our backs on the ones struggling the most, we allow these crises to grow even bigger. The world is filled with too much hate and judgment that causes us to not support each other. By taking a step to be more empathetic, I am helping to improve it. Leading by example will help others start to be more kind and supportive in their day to day lives. One person I save could end up saving dozens more in their lifetime. It seems like impossible work at first, but over time my efforts will trickle down throughout the world. That is why I am willingly choosing such a hard path.

Today I was faced with a stark reminder of why mental health is important to me. I walked in on the love of my life trying to kill themself. I was thankfully able to intervene in time but, after having a few hours to process the rollercoaster of emotions, I couldn’t help but reflect on my own past struggles. The fear I experienced today must be just like the fear my family experienced from my own attempt. I had made so much progress since then that I almost forgot just how quickly mental health issues can escalate. While I have always found mental health a priority, I had forgotten how easy it is to overlook. Although I’m still not perfect at it, I think my experience with mental health made me better equipped to handle the situation. I knew the kind of thoughts that run in a suicidal persons head so I was careful not to make my partner feel anymore ashamed or burdensome than they already feel. Knowing the kind of thoughts a suicidal person has allowed me to be more empathetic and careful with my words despite feeling so panicked. My own experiences have made me a better person to my loved ones because I try so hard to be the supportive person I needed in the past. All my relationships, not only my romantic one, seem to have been strengthened by this. I also want to make it clear I am not using my partners struggles for sympathy. This event today just served as a great reminder for why I am so passionate about mental health. After spending hours consoling my partner, with them being silent and not reacting at all, we finally found hope again. I was overwhelmed for a while and felt that I might never be able to help them. However, the moment they made a slight smile for the first time was the moment my world filled with light again. It was a slow process, but we eventually got to a point where we felt safe again. That moment of hope is what I want to have with my future patients. I want to help others last long enough to reach that point where the world seems full of possibilities again. This day reminded me of how dark the world can be sometimes, but I also saw that our world always has a light at the end of the tunnel.

Sometimes I feel like everything will be okay. When I’m hanging out at the LGBTQ+ center, when I’m with my supportive partner, and when I’m with my other trans friends I always feel like I have a place in this world. I feel like I can genuinely be me. Then I visit my parents, or have to schedule a gynecologist appointment, or sign my deadname on legal documents. I get drowned in a sea of “she’s” and “hers” until I forget that I ever felt safe being me. My mother’s passive aggressive comments fail to hide her thinly veiled transphobia. Maybe some of the doctors would be better than her if I had the confidence to correct them, but I still struggle to overcome the many moments my voice was taken away from me. It hurts when I don’t speak up for myself, but it hurt so much more in the past when I did. There is pain in having conditional and love. I have given up on fixing relationships with those who refuse to see me. But that doesn’t mean I can’t have a better life or improve the lives of others. I know every decision I make will be faced with backlash, every dream of mine criticized, so I might as well pursue my boldest passions. Instead of making my mom happy by being a nurse, I have dedicated myself to studying psychology. I will face a competitive major and push myself to end up one of the best. I’m willing to fight for the few research positions available to get the experience I need for graduate school. While it will probably end up being another way to disappoint my mom, I will continue to talk about that “annoying gender and sexuality stuff” as it impacts so many aspects of mental health. After getting my PhD and other qualifications, I hope to support other members of my community as they deal with the bigotry of the world. I will advocate for my community by telling politicians they need to fund the mental health care that they conveniently keep claiming is causing the epidemic of school shootings. One aspect of that is that are society needs to let go of the heteronormativity and patriarchal gender roles that are putting so much pressure on people. My concern not only lies with LGBTQ+ people, I want to help improve mental health access so all people struggling can improve their lives. However, I cannot help anyone if I cannot afford my schooling. My parents make too much money for the FAFSA to ever give me financial aid, which I somewhat understand as many other families could never afford college. I do wish they would consider that students might not get aid from parents, especially queer kids whose parents might only barely tolerate them if they’re lucky. With this scholarship, I would have some of the financial pressures of schooling relieved. Any money I saved could now be set aside for graduate school, something I might have to give up if I can’t find a way to get the money. Another huge impact from your scholarship and other ones like this is that it would free me from being financially dependent on my parents. While I’m grateful that they are willing to help me for my bachelors degree, I am often reminded of my mothers willingness to take it away. Instead of having to restrain parts of myself to appease my mother, I could have the freedom to finally start transitioning and being fully myself.

When asked if I know what I want to be when I’m an adult, I responded with Psychologist. Which was ironic, since the person asking me that was a psychologist. I had expected her to be proud of my answer but instead her face was full of horror. She demanded I pick anything but that. She begged me to promise her to never go into this field. When trying to understand her reaction, I took more notice of what was going on around me. There were several exhausted staff members working 12 hour shifts and only running on coffee. All these people followed a career that was supposed to be passionate about helping others yet they were all so defeated. Perhaps it was because of the many patients they could not save. There are many aspects of this field that can haunt a person: being powerless to stop a kid from going back to a bad home, constantly having to stop patients from harming themselves, losing some patients to suicide, and seeing the bright eyed kid you thought got better return even worse. I think some of them gave up on the idea any of their patients could get better. At least, that’s what I felt from the staff around me. They were so detached around all of us as if putting too much effort would hurt them. But some of the staff treated me different. They said I was special, not like the other kids. I didn’t belong here. I was the one who could make it out and have a good life. The only one who could. I’m sorry that I couldn’t keep my promise to the psychologist. I know she would be heartbroken to find out I still haven’t given up. Unfortunately, I can’t give up. While the staff saw those other kids as a list cause, I saw them as friends and people worth saving. The big trouble breaker always fighting staff and returning frequently was just trying to feel safe after being abused by her grandfather. Another was overwhelmed by the pressure of being a child of immigrants and constantly having to hold the family together. There was the foster kid who was struggling to find a parental figure that would support her. She also confided in me how terrified she was of being released since she has no idea where her social worker will send her next. To me, the other kids were not hopeless. They just lacked enough support to overcome their own issues. I was different because I had a safe family to return to. My family could afford to frequently send me to a high quality therapist after I was realized. Of course I behaved better, I knew I would be taken care of. But that doesn’t mean those ever kids couldn’t have also gotten better. There may be only so much the staff can do, but they can make a difference in the short times those kids are in their care. It can feel hopeless after having no way to ensure they get the care they need after they are released. However, even the smallest bit of support can make a huge difference in the long run. I couldn’t help those kids then, not only because I was another patient, due to not knowing how. That is why I am studying psychology. I will learn how to help patients like the ones I met. I will be there to save the kids no one thinks are worth saving. Having staff like me will help to end the mental health crisis.

Sometimes I watch specific shows to make me cry. It’s nice to have a cathartic experience from time to time. Usually, it’s shows with a found family and people healing from trauma that gets the tears flowing. It can be hard to predict what shows will give me this response without risking spoilers, so I tend to rewatch old ones when I am in need of a crying session. One of my favorite anime’s is perfect for getting me to cry. Anohana: The Flower We Saw that Day is an anime about a teenage boy suddenly haunted by the ghost of his childhood friend. He has to fulfill her final wish in order for her to pass on but her spirit can no longer remember what it was. During his desperate attempts to find out, he reconnects with their old friend group that had split apart after her death. For me, the most heartwarming part about this show is the way the show the loving power that friendship holds. This group of friends faced the trauma that haunted them together so that they can all heal. All the pain they were experiencing was only alleviated once they let others in. It was a great show on the different ways that trauma can present itself and the different harmful coping mechanisms people resort to. Above all, this show presented how simple friendships can change lives for the better. This anime did not only make me cry because of the trauma, it also made me cry from how beautiful their friendship was. Not only do I long for a friendship like that, I also find hope that I can too can overcome the traumas I experience.

A common critique I have with movies as they tend to make the teenagers too adult-like. It’s already bad enough that they cast adults to play characters most of the time, but the unrealistically mature dialogue and thought processes really top it off. That is why Tom Holland’s Spiderman ended up impressing me. There was a sort of energy he brought that really made the character feel like a teenager. Maybe it was those extra moments of silliness or the lighter mood of the movie, whatever it was, it won me over. He felt just like me. A teenager at the time full of youth and definitely more awkward than I’d like. He wasn’t some brooding man talking about responsibility and needing to be serious all the time. As much as I loved the other movies, they didn’t have that stark reminder that it was a kid saving lives. There needs to be youthful energy so that the conflicts he faces seem all the more heavy. Having to fight super-humans is terrifying, having to fight them while still a child is soul crushing. This contrast gave me a more emotional reaction to the movie. Spider-Man wasn’t just a hero to love, he was a child that needed to be protected too.

One of my best friends knew I was queer before I did. I think part of me knew since there was always something about me that felt different. At first, I thought I was just a really committed ally. I was so supportive of the LGBTQ+ community that I memorized every label and flag. Researching people’s experiences wasn’t obsession, it was just me preparing myself to be the best friend a gay or trans person could have. That was what I thought until realization hit me like a brick to the face. Everything seemed to change after that yet it was also exactly the same. Knowing what I was felt so surreal and overwhelming at first. Even with this whole new part of myself to explore, it was still just me. The problem was that so much of myself had been kept locked away. Everything different and unconventional about me seemed to flood out of myself after I came out. I embraced my weirdness and talked openly about my thoughts. I was no longer trying to be who people wanted me to be and instead was learning who I was. After finally being free to grow into the person I was meant to be, I started to love myself. This was something I had always struggled to do before. I still sometimes struggle to do the bigotry and outside stress caused by unsupportive people. However, all the hatred in the world wouldn’t make me want to give up the euphoria that comes with being my authentic self. I have grown to have several new qualities that add to my self love. I have become more empathetic and open minded towards others. I have found my voice and used it to advocate for both myself and others. Best of all, my world view has adapted. I realized progress is possible and worth fighting for. That is why I have developed so many radical ideas on how to improve the world. One of my core beliefs is that society can only truly thrive if the lowest of us are taken care of. A big aspect of this is peoples psychological needs, which is why I care so much about mental health awareness. My passion for psychology grew alongside my love for my community. It hurt me to see the way so many others like me suffer. I felt overwhelmed with my limited power to help those around me so I started researching online once again. Surprisingly, I found the process to be lots of fun. I was fascinated by the different ways trauma affects people and the several methods of treatment out there. This was something I knew deep down could make a difference in our world. Empowered by my knee knowledge, I knew the field of psychology is what I was destined for. I had always been overly empathetic to the emotions of others but never knew it could actually be useful in a career. With enough financial support, I could go on to get my PhD so that I could both treat patients from my community and research better ways to help them. My dream may be a long shot, but I know it is worth pursuing. The field is competitive and grad school requires a well rounded application. Yet the intimidation will not stop me. I have made extensive plans to ensure I reach the qualifications I need, including networking with a queer researcher who is currently helping me get experience in the field. After graduate school, I plan to work hard to get licensed. I will spend years doing supervised hours to ensure that I can one day treat my own patients. I know that I will not give up because there are many transgender people out there struggling who need a therapist that fully understands their experiences.

My fear of school shootings was never an irrational one. With so many happening in America, I knew it was only a matter of time until it reached me. That may seem overly pessimistic, but I was proven right one awful school morning. It was a cold and quiet morning. Despite the unbreakable silence looming over me, I did not feel any unease. I only felt confusion when a teacher I didn’t know ushered me into an unfamiliar classroom. The fear I felt that day was unlike anything I have ever encountered. It was a calm fear. The kind were you numbly send goodbye texts because you’ve already accepted you might die. Even after I found out it was a nearby high school being targeted, the fear stayed. That fear was drawn out when the news channels spread rumors of the shooter escaping and still being on the hunt. Fear turned into anger once I was home. Anger towards the reporters that toyed with my fear in order for views replaced the numbness. Then my rage shifted towards my school. In an effort to bring things back to normal, police were now posted at the front entrance every day. They even added a policy that students have to show IDs to be allowed in. Not metal detectors, backpack searches, or anything useful; their solution was to slap a bandaid on the problem. It wasn’t even logical considering the shooter was a student at the high school. While I mocked these efforts back then, I now know the staff were just doing their best to try to make parents and students feel safe. I could not see or value the effort being made due to the pain I was in. But I was not the only one suffering. I was not the only one who hid under a desk that day. Nor was I the only one who lost a sense of safety. Every single person in my community felt the same pain I did that day. Whether for themselves, their loved ones, or for the strangers they knew were in danger; each person had a reason to worry. I know the phrase “you’re not alone” is quite common but it certainly applied in my case. Quite literally everyone around me was experiencing the same thing. “Saugus Strong” become a common phrase to remind us to be strong and support each other. The phrase was everywhere: social media posts, banners, and even Christmas decorations. These reminders of how supportive and kind my community was helped break down my walls. I was able to let go of my anger and let my loved ones in. My pain and fears became manageable as I accepted help from those around me. While I had believed the lesson to learned was not to trust others, I realized that this tragedy showed me my community is dependable. We all knew what the fears and anxiety felt like which is why we were so great at comforting one another. While I hope to never experience something like this again, now I know I am never alone. There is always going to be someone out there who at least partially understands my suffering. If I can just find that person, I will always be okay no matter what happens. Letting people in is the only way to let the pain go.

I was always terrified of school shootings after growing up hearing about a new one almost monthly. That stomach drop feeling would always hit me once I saw posts about a new one. I always felt terrible for those students and wondered how they were able to continue with life and school after. One November morning, I finally got my answer. Nothing was unusual that morning. I arrived early before my class. The area was empty and quiet which I had assumed was because of the cold weather. Despite the unbreakable silence looming over me, I did not feel any unease. At least, until I heard someone shouting in the distance. A teacher I have never met flagged me over to go into a classroom I have never been to before. Confusion caused me to react slowly. It did not help that I couldn’t hear what he was saying due to his attempts to stay quiet. I got scared when I heard what I thought was anger but now know was desperation. I was rushed inside to the storage area connecting the classrooms. A sharp realization hit me when I saw the many students hiding under their desks. I silently found my place with them while fear slowly consumed me. Those short few hours felt like a lifetime to me. I thought I was going to die and sent my goodbyes through text messages. Once it was revealed the shooting was at a nearby school, my fears now were for the Saugus students that I knew. As I worried for my neighbors and old friends, a teacher turned on the news. Rumors about the shooter escaping and heading towards a new school were put on loop. The emotional agony from that was unforgettable. Once that awful time was over and more information got spread, I found out the shooter was dead before the lockdown even started. The rumor might have had some truth to it due to the police not knowing who or where the shooter was, but it still pissed me off. I felt like my fears were being toyed with in order for views. That anger did not end with the news station. I was angry at everyone. The police, teachers, and parents were all scapegoats for my pain. Worst of all, after that emotional rollercoaster I went through, I had little trust in the authority around me. We were all terrified for the days, weeks, even months after that. The school had police at the front entrance every day once we returned back to school. A new policy was added that students had to show IDs in order to be allowed in. Both of these efforts were mocked by me. Looking back, I know the staff were just doing their best to try to make parents and students feel safe. Unfortunately, I still felt scared and these nonsense actions felt like a slap to the face. Police presence did not make sense since I never heard of shootings reoccurring in the same school zones. The new ID policy felt even more ridiculous to me considering the shooter was a student. I could not see or value the effort being made due to the pain I was in. But I was not the only one suffering. My entire community experienced and felt this pain together. This gave us the unique chance of having many people who understood what we were going through. As awful as it was, everyone in my hometown had each others backs. It was a strange way to bond with my community, but to this day still makes me feel proud. After I finally let go of my anger, I found many open arms waiting for me. My friends all comforted each other as we learned how to feel safe at school again. The teachers were lenient and accommodating as we adjusted back to normal life. My pain and fears became manageable as I accepted help from those around me. While I at first thought the lesson was that I can't trust others, I learned that my community is dependable. I was surprised by all the kindness I saw in the months following the shooting. I realized that the people around me can help me if I actually let them. We all knew what the fears and anxiety felt like which is why we were so great at comforting one another. While I hope to never experience something like this again, now I know I am never alone. There is always going to be someone out there who at least partially understands my suffering. If I can just find that person, I will always be okay no matter what happens. Letting people in is the only way to let the pain go.

Growing up is a beautiful yet terrifying thing. I have found so much freedom now that I am an adult but am overwhelmed by the many opportunities and possibilities. I have entered a new stage of my life filled with bittersweet feelings. The future looks so bright and full of new adventures that I don’t know what to do with myself. This liberation is a relief to me in the sense that I finally get to be myself and pursue my passions instead of what others impose on me. This leads to a mixture of strange feelings that can be hard to find words for. Good thing I don’t have to find the words since Taylor Swift’s song “Welcome to New York” perfectly captures how I feel about this past year. For me, I interpret this song as description of the many feelings a person goes through after choosing to chase after their dreams. This process always means leaving something from your past life behind that you miss. You also have to face your issues and heal parts of yourself you never realized was broken. “Took our broken hearts, put them in a drawer” seems to express how we cannot let our past issues prevent us from pursuing our passions. As scary as it is, it is important to not let fear stop you. I have experienced so much fear and doubt this past year. Throughout it all, I had to learn to not let it consume me and let go of it in order to be able to continue on. But the song again brings up the level of wonder people experience that brings them back to life. That is how I interpret “The lights are so bright, but they never blind me”. The song shows how you can feel the ecstasy of all the happy experiences that are now in your grasp. In order to take advantage of this new freedom, I have pushed myself beyond my comfort zone to try new things. Being active in my community has opened a whole new world of experiences for me. While I have faced lots of rejection, I have discovered so many new opportunities in the process. Trying, even without succeeding, has opened doors for me to new volunteer experience, scholarships, and career paths. It has been hard putting myself out there, but I wouldn’t want to change any of it. I have grown and learned from my past rejections. I have improved my essay writing for scholarships, interview skills, and social skills. With every rejection I face, I have always found several new opportunities right after. I know I have to keep trying and searching until I find what fits me.

Reading is so much fun because it’s the only time a person can enjoy violence and murder in a morally correct way. The reason reading is so vital for society is because of the lessons and serious topics hidden underneath that entertainment. Everyone has at least one favorite book that made it clear just how much of an impact books have on the world. The most recent book that affected me on a fundamental level was Iron Widow by Xiran Jay Zhao. This was a retelling vaguely inspired by China’s only female emperor. It touched on topics of misogyny, patriarchy, ableism, colonization, war, and many other social issues. It went in depth about how such societal issues impact minorities and ruined lives. The reason I loved it so much was because of the amount of rage the main character exhibited. Her thought process validated every frustration I’ve ever had about the world around me. The story was about how she became aware of the injustices and forcibly dismantled the oppressive society she lived in. While violence is clearly not the answer to real life problems, readers can be inspired to make changes of their own to society. The book makes it clear that the violence was so to desperation and lack of power. The main character was only one person with a little support from two friends, she couldn’t educate the masses or change the minds of those in power on her own. In real life however, we have the time and the numbers to slowly make change. This story covers the steps a person goes through to create change: stabilize home life first, gain public attention, gain credibility, discover how the injustices occur, and reveal it to others. In Iron Widow, the main character faces many obstacles of people in power trying to maintain the status quo. They do this by promoting alcoholism, shifting blame onto individuals, and using racial stereotypes/prejudices. It is important for others to read this book and compare the actions being done with how our society functions. Even though it is a work of fiction, it still highlights issues that many people still ignore to this day. The way it is presented in this book allows the reader to understand and empathize with the lowest members of society. It is supposed to be frustrating to read and I hope it angers people to demand change.

It can be awkward adding strangers to your family. When my mom found a new boyfriend, I was not eager for the awkward small talk that would come from introducing him and his family to us. I was still very happy for her. I also wanted to make this process as easy as possible despite my shyness. The boyfriend and his two kids seemed nice enough, but we had yet to find anything to truly break the ice. Thankfully, we finally cut through the tension in the air after one day of gaming. My sisters and I weren’t much of gamers, but we were open to trying something new. His two kids both loved playing video games together. All of us thought it was worth a shot to kill the time. They had several of the Mario games collected at home. After sorting through the list, we thought Mario Party 5 in Minigame Mode would be best. The game was something foreign to my sisters and I but it looked fun. As our first round started, I was surprised at how easily we got absorbed into the game. Everyone playfully taunted me as I frantically tried to figure out how to go up the flag pole. Soon witty banter was exchanged between all of us. Instead of strangers, we became rivals and teammates. It was more than just a fun night of gaming, it was the first night we bonded. To me, Mario Party will always be associated with the time I first felt safe around my new family. After seeing everyone hysterically laughing together, I felt that we could end up a happy family one day.

Have you ever wanted to watch a murder mystery told by the perspective of the victim? In Netflix's show "School Spirits" Maddie wakes up as a ghost in her school's basement with no recollection on how she died. While wandering the campus grounds, she finds several other ghosts of people who have died on campus grounds. She joins the makeshift ghost support group while trying to still find answers about her death. This is a fascinating and original twist on the mystery genre. The suspense kept me hooked as I binge watched the season. All of the main characters were easy to fall in love with due to their distinct personalities and witty lines. While many shows seem out of touch when depicting teenagers and high school, this felt like genuine high schoolers (besides being ghosts and solving a murder). I personally love dark humor which is why I enjoyed Rhonda's character. She is the moody teen that seems done with everything. She tends to make dark jokes about death and be very blunt. There is also a hilarious scene where Maddie's best friend desperately tries to escape from the grief counselor and her very useless advice. While dark, it depicts the school systems poor response to traumatic events in a cathartic way. If anyone is looking for a show with characters that genuinely behave like teenagers and poke fun at the broken school system, this show is for you. As dark and morbid as this show clearly will be, I also want to highlight the heartwarming moments. Even though Maddie does try to chase after her still living boyfriend, this show has little focus on romance. It instead focuses on the great love that comes with friendship. Many shows attempt to do this in a way that ends up looking cringe to the audience but this show successfully warms your heart with it. I loved Maddie's character growth throughout the show as she slowly befriends the other teenage ghosts. We also get to see just how much her old friends care for her as they refuse to stop looking for her. To them, Maddie is missing as a body was never found... only some blood. They were working hard to find her and trying to not give up hope that she was alive. They even show ways that Maddie had inspired them in her life and changed things for the better. The genuine love and connection between them all had me bawling my eyes out. I definitely reccomend this show to others. But maybe make sure to have some tissues with them.

I have always loved heroes. I watched superhero movies and shows, read dystopian novels about rebels taking down a corrupt society, and dreamed of ways that I too could save people. Although I was never that strong of a person, I found that my large sense of empathy had an impact on people. After seeing the effect emotional support has on others, I became fascinated with mental health and psychology. That passion has only grown as I further study and research on aspects of psychology. I started off wanting to be a therapist to help people heal, but I have recently also found a passion in research. I have a desire to help people heal and grow to their furthest potential, yet also find research studies on topics like stress and addiction fascinating. Luckily, this field has a wide range of opportunities so I can end up exploring both career paths throughout my life. What I am certain of is that I want to find ways that I can help others. While my career aspirations are centered around helping others, I also have personal goals that will improve the world. One major life goal of mine is to become a foster parent. I am open to all children, but want to focus on building a safe home to LGBTQ+ teens. I cannot imagine how terrifying the experience can be for the average child, but I imagine it is only so much worse for queer kids with no idea how accepting their home will be. This is why I want to open my home to these teenagers in the future. I want to them a space where they can safely discover themselves and express who they are. I also want to focus on taking in teenagers because that is the age group that often is rejected. All foster kids have trauma, but the older ones are often assumed to be lost causes and ignored. People fear them and assume the worst, which causes the kids to further act out and reaffirm the stigma. If I am going to be a foster parent, I want to be the kind that accepts the kids everyone else has rejected. There is a huge demand for foster parents and I know I am meant to help lighten the burden on the foster care system. Giving a few teens a loving role model can drastically change their lives. While researching into the foster care system, I have been made aware how many suffer without love and age out without homes. Many end up in awful situations of substance abuse, homelessness, and sex trafficking. While I cannot save them all, I hope to at least save some from that fate. The impact one good person can have on a struggling child is life saving. Even if my reach is limited, I at least want to give them hope. Foster kids are not the only ones I want to inspire and fill with hope. I also want to be an author who writes inspiring books encouraging people to improve the world and be kind to others. Reading has a dramatic impact on my childhood. While it is not the most popular hobby, I want to affect fellow book nerds the same way my favorite authors affected me. I have always loved writing stories. I used to spend countless hours after school typing up stories on my mom's computer until she decided it was best to get me my own. There may already be countless inspiring stories out there, but I know I have important ones to tell.

The scariest part of growing up was becoming my own person. My empathetic personality was endearing to others as a kid and my weirdness was accepted as a young quirky phase. But as I grew, I began to form values and opinions that many around me disagreed with. I was terrified to ever express myself around others and kept my mouth shut to keep the peace. It was painful to live through. I felt so alone and wondered if maybe I was in the wrong. I questioned whether I was too dramatic, sensitive, and open-minded. Maybe I did have too high of standards and was naively trying to change the world. Deep in my heart I ached not only to be able to freely be myself but also to be considerate of others. I was frustrated that so many people ignored or flat out denied many causes of suffering. I could not understand why it was such a big deal to those around me when people were different from them. While I was not pulled away from the people fundamentally different from me, I was validated by a supportive and open minded community of people. The LGBTQ+ community has its flaws too, but it has fostered a place welcoming to any and all people no matter how unconventional. Beyond sexuality and gender identity, they supported social issues and forms of self expression. Immigrants, drag performers, furries, disabled people, and more groups were all accepted with open arms. This was a community founded on empathy and acceptance of self expression. Meeting people at my school and learning more about the community online gave me confidence and comfort being myself. I was able to slowly start speaking my own opinions. In a way, this community gave me my voice. When we think of the LGBTQ+ community, we tend to think of sexuality and gender. However, this community impacts so much more than that. Another way the community impacts the world is through mental health advocacy. Mental health issues are an unfortunate struggle across the community with the suicide rates and mental illness being so widespread. It makes sense that we have grown to provide resources and speak out about mental health issues. My drive to help others suffering is what brought me to the LGBTQ+ community (among the fact that I also identify as part of the community through both sexuality and gender). That passion has only grown into my current dream of joining the psychology field. I started off wanting to be a therapist to help people heal, but I have recently also found a passion in research. What I am certain of is that I want to find ways that I can help others. While my career aspirations are centered around helping others, I also have personal goals that will improve the world. One major life goal of mine is to become a foster parent. I am open to all children, but want to focus on building a safe home to LGBTQ+ teens. There is a huge demand for foster parents and I know I am meant to help lighten the burden on the foster care system. Giving a few teens a loving role model can drastically change their lives. While researching into the foster care system, I have been made aware how many suffer without love and age out without homes. Many end up in awful situations of substance abuse, homelessness, and sex trafficking. While I cannot save them all, I hope to at least save some from that fate.

Time management is a skill that everyone must learn in order to have a healthy and balanced life. Some may argue that working while in school adds unnecessary stress that interferes in productivity. I, on the other hand, disagree with that idea. Working while being a student has pushed me beyond my limits and proven to myself that I can excel in multiple areas at once. I have learned to be more productive and manage my time wisely. I have learned what causes my procrastination and spread out my goals to make sure I do not get overwhelmed but still get everything done. Time and time again I have proven to myself what a capable student I am. My current job may seem to have nothing to do with my intended career field, but it still teaches me vital lessons. A major component I will take away from this experience is how to professionally interact with customers and serve them. Keeping people happy is an important part of staying in business. Such social skills are vital in maintaining a relationship with clients as a therapist. I will also have experience de-escalating tense situations with clients. High stress moments are bound to occur in therapy. While I still have lots to learn, I at least will know how to make my clients feel well treated and address their concerns.

Like all things in life, mental illness does not cause solely good or bad experiences. I have suffered greatly from it yet also had a lot to gain. My own experiences caused me to be more empathetic and understanding of the people around me. Being considerate of the fact that other people may be struggling too allowed me to form strong relationships with others. If a close friendship was not formed, I at least avoided making enemies through my considerate behavior. Those I did form a close bond with gave me a level of validation and support I never experienced before. As thankful as I am for my supportive family, receiving support from someone who has lived through the same issues will always have a greater impact. Beyond the advantages of having similarities, these friendships I formed were some of the kindest I ever experienced. I formed a friend group full of open minded people that created a safe space to express and discover yourself. I thrived when around them due to my ability to finally embrace my weird side. While good friendships is not a guaranteed effect of mental illness, I think my own experience is the reason I found such amazing friends. I created good experiences from my struggles by making sure I learned a lesson from them. One core belief of mine that changed was the belief that professionals were always right. To me, degree meant the person was taught everything about their career. This belief shattered when I went to my first psychiatrist begging for help, only to end up feeling worse about myself. The psychiatrist, the so called professional that studied for so many years, said I was not depressed enough to really need treatment. The man who was supposed to save me said to my face that I was faking it for attention, something that is well known to mental health advocates as language that escalates suicidal feelings. This wasn’t a rare had apple either, several others dismissed my struggles. As devastating as it was, I learned through this experience that even mental health professionals fall for bias and misconceptions. Despite the heartbreaking experiences, I continued meet with other professionals until I found a great therapist. Finding that therapist made all the previous obstacles worth it. I was validated while also pushed to reflect on the deepest parts of myself. I not only healed, but grew to be a better person during my time in therapy. Although I might feel like the search for help was worth it in the end, many others give up before they finally find someone who cares. The lingering thought about those other patients tormented me. I couldn’t help but wonder how many ended up taking their lives during a search for a decent therapist. It was clear the system was failing, so I decided that I must become a therapist. I had to become the kind of person I needed when I saw my first psychiatrist, the person so many others die before meeting. My own awful experiences will allow me to learn from other professionals mistakes. Instead of dismissing my patients, I will acknowledge the possibility I am wrong and research more into the topic. It is especially important to not make rash assumptions about patients that I have barely talked to. Unlike my first mental health provider, I will never accuse someone of faking their suffering just because they failed to die. By entering this field, I hope to add one more good therapist to the world. The thought of helping even just one person in a time of need motivates me throughout my studies. I may not end up being the best in my field, but what matters to me is that I’m someone that makes my patients want to stay alive.

I used to believe that professionals were always right. To me, degree meant the person was well educated on all aspects of their career field. This belief shattered when I went to my first psychiatrist begging for help, only to end up feeling worse about myself. The psychiatrist, the so called professional that studied for so many years, said I was not depressed enough to really need treatment. The man who was supposed to save me said to my face that I was faking it for attention, something that is well known to mental health advocates as language that escalates suicidal feelings. This wasn’t a rare had apple either, several others dismissed my struggles. As devastating as it was, I learned through this experience that even mental health professionals fall for bias and misconceptions. It pushed me to surround myself with supportive people who can help me get through my low moments. I found comfort when befriending people who also struggled like me. There was a weight lifted off me whenever I was able to vent to my friends and talk with people who genuinely understood me. The validation meant everything to me. Still, I could not rely on friends to provide all the mental health support I needed. I continued my search until found a great therapist. He was considerate of my struggles and always allowed me to have a voice. With the help of this kind therapist, I slowly healed and grew my confidence. My story is a happy one, however I still feel awful knowing others like me are facing similar mental health professionals and may not be able to survive as many bad experiences as I could. The aching in my heart for others like me caused a passion of mine to grow; I decided I wanted to be a therapist. I want to be the kind of person I needed as a teenager. I embodied this desire throughout my adolescence and into my adulthood by being supportive of my friends. I was always open minded to any unique experiences or struggles. Even though I couldn’t do much, I wanted the people I cared about to know that at least one person believes them and will be there for them. I even went out of my way to research rare and heavily stigmatized mental illnesses and coping mechanisms to ensure I never said anything insensitive. It certainly seems like there needs to be more professionals who embrace modern advancements and discoveries in the field. Instead of dismissing my patients, I will acknowledge the possibility I am wrong and research more into the topic. One thing I know for sure is that I will never say that someone is faking their symptoms for attention or lying because they did not try to die hard enough. My desire to add one more good therapist to the world, to even help just one person in a time of need, motivates me throughout my studies. Being a good therapist will help all parts of my community, as every culture or group has their own struggles. I know I will never be able to know everything about psychology, but I know I will always be considerate of my patients needs.

People around me know that while I am an advanced writer, I procrastinate on my essays. It is not due to simple laziness or perfectionism; it is due to my panic attacks. I can do tests in class without breaking a sweat, even if my exams require writing essays. But when I have an assignment to do at home with vague instructions, I panic. I over think every detail on the rubric until I feel my heart pound and begin to hyperventilate. This makes writing papers a very daunting task. However, I have had a lifetime of experience navigating it. I give myself smaller tasks to do days ahead of the due date, like researching and outlining. Instead of trying to type it out (which is when I tend to get most anxious), I mentally picture what I want to write and how I can edit it. Doing this makes the task of typing it out feel much less intimidating. When I inevitably have to physically write my essays, I use the coping mechanisms I have learned to regulate my anxiety. Through practice, I have gotten better at catching my feelings of dread early. With breathing exercises and my own personal mantras, I am able to maintain a confident mindset. Unfortunately, my anxiety does tend to reappear while I wait for my assignments to get graded. My mind always races thinking about the possibility that the teacher will find my work terrible and will fail me. I obsess over calculating the possible impacts different scores would have on my grade in the class. My poor friends and my romantic partner have to deal with me worrying for weeks only for the grade to be decent (even 100% on one essay I was certain I would get a 0 for). The constant self doubt can make it hard to enjoy the present moment with the people I care about. I do try to combat this by grounding myself to the present moment and letting myself have fun as a reword for finishing an assignment on time. There are plenty of moments where I am able to fully let loose, but my stressed out state is a nuisance when it occurs. The hardest part of maintaining friendships comes from how irritable and withdrawn I can become. When my body feels like it’s constantly on edge, all it takes is a friend talking too loud to get me to snap. Even when I am not angry, I can feel exhausted and unable to carry conversation with people. This is the most difficult situation to navigate as I cannot socialize until after I stabilize myself. When I get like this, I know that I have neglected self care for too long. I try to give myself a big and healthy meal, a quiet space, and turn off my phone. Some months I’m at my best state and on top of my mental health, others are more of a struggle when I neglect myself. However, I make sure to never judge or shame myself and accept the present moment. There is no quick fix to mental health unfortunately. But I have faith that I will find balance in my life over time.

I used to trust that having a degree, experience, and a professional status meant a person was an expert. I believed having a degree meant one knew everything about the subject. This belief shattered when I went to my first psychiatrist begging for help, for someone to get me out of my dark suicidal mind space. The psychiatrist said I was not depressed enough. He genuinely believed and said to my face that I was faking it for attention. This dilemma didn’t stop after the first person either, several said I had no mental health issues even as my symptoms got worse. My suicide attempts were dismissed by the people I thought would save me. Through these experiences, I learned even mental health professionals fall for bias and misconceptions. Thankfully, I finally found someone who believed me and helped me heal. However, I still feel awful knowing others cannot hold on long enough to find the one therapist who will listen. This is why I want be a therapist. I want to be the kind of person I needed as a teenager. I hope to be humble person who understands mental health is a fresher field of study and that new diagnoses constantly are discovered. Instead of dismissing my patients, I will research more to see if there is something I am missing. One thing I know for sure is that I will never say that someone is faking their symptoms for attention or lying because they did not try to die hard enough. My desire to add one more good therapist to the world, to even help just one person in a time of need, motivates me throughout my studies. Being a good therapist will help all parts of my community, as every culture or group has their own struggles. Certain populations can be more at risk, but long term effects connect to all of us. Mental health ties into a variety of issues like homelessness, school shootings, addiction, and crime. Uplifting those in a desperate state can prevent all these issues. Although eliminating them all together might not be possible, it is always worth the effort to try. Lowering the rates of these issues also helps break the cycle, as trauma leads to more people developing mental illnesses or unhealthy coping mechanisms. I believe healing members of the community will help to heal the whole community. With a degree in psychology, I will have studied the various therapy methods and can research new treatment methods. I know I will never be able to know everything about psychology , but I know I will always be considerate of my patients needs.

I used to trust that having a degree, experience, and a professional status meant a person was an expert. I believed having a degree meant one knew everything about the subject. This belief shattered when I went to my first psychiatrist begging for help, for someone to get me out of my dark suicidal mind space. The psychiatrist said I was not depressed enough. He genuinely believed and said to my face that I was faking it for attention. This dilemma didn’t stop after the first person either, several said I had no mental health issues even as my symptoms got worse. My suicide attempts were dismissed by the people I thought would save me. Through these experiences, I learned even mental health professionals fall for bias and misconceptions. Thankfully, I finally found someone who believed me and helped me heal. However, I still feel awful knowing others cannot hold on long enough to find the one therapist who will listen. This is why I want be a therapist. I want to be the kind of person I needed as a teenager. I hope to be humble person who understands mental health is a fresher field of study and that new diagnoses constantly are discovered. Instead of dismissing my patients, I will research more to see if there is something I am missing. One thing I know for sure is that I will never say that someone is faking their symptoms for attention or lying because they did not try to die hard enough. My desire to add one more good therapist to the world, to even help just one person in a time of need, motivates me throughout my studies. Being a good therapist will help all parts of my community, as every culture or group has their own struggles. Certain populations can be more at risk, but long term effects connect to all of us. Mental health ties into a variety of issues like homelessness, school shootings, addiction, and crime. Uplifting those in a desperate state can prevent all these issues. Although eliminating them all together might not be possible, it is always worth the effort to try. Lowering the rates of these issues also helps break the cycle, as trauma leads to more people developing mental illnesses or unhealthy coping mechanisms. I believe healing members of the community will help to heal the whole community. With a degree in psychology, I will have studied the various therapy methods and can research new treatment methods. I know I will never be able to know everything about psychology , but I know I will always be considerate of my patients needs.

While mental illness is typically seen as ruining relationships, my own experience is that it sometimes can improve them. There is the obvious fact that mental health struggles can make people disconnect from loved ones, I won’t deny that. However, I have found that my own mental health journey has lead me to be an empathetic person that believes anyone can improve their life with enough support. My optimistic beliefs have lead me to be vulnerable around people in order to take on the heavy burden of being the first one to allow deep topics to appear in conversation. Even for strangers, my perspective has made me more mindful of the fact that you never know just how much a person is suffering. This allows me to be more patient with irritable people. Beyond being tolerant, I also go out of my way to check up on friends during hard times or randomly. This has given me stronger relationships. Through my personal experience, I have learned even the best of people can disappoint you. I used to trust that having a degree, experience, and a professional status meant a person was an expert. That they knew everything about the subject. But when I went to my first psychiatrist begging for help, for someone to get me out of my dark suicidal mind space, I was told that I was not depressed enough. I was literally told I was faking it for attention. It didn’t stop after the first person either, several said there were no mental health issues even as my symptoms got worse. My suicide attempts were dismissed as not actually trying since I did not do enough damage. Even mental health professionals fall for bias and misconceptions. Thankfully, I finally found someone who believed me and helped me. However, I can’t help but feel hurt knowing others do not get so lucky. After years of working on myself, I decided I wanted to be a therapist. I wanted to be the kind of person I needed as a teenager. Unlike other professionals who do not trust and listen to their patients, I hope to be humble person who understands mental health is a fresher study and that new diagnoses constantly are discovered. I will be mindful of how I talk to patients since those in therapy can be in the fragilest of states sometimes, the wrong phrasing can be taken negatively and cause a patient to shut down. The desire to add one more good therapist to the world, to even help just one person in a time of need, motivates me throughout my studies. Being a good therapist will help all parts of my community, as every culture or group has their own struggles. Certain populations can be more at risk, but long term effects connect to all of us. Mental health ties into a variety of issues like homelessness, school shootings, addiction, and crime. Uplifting those in a desperate state can prevent all these issues. Although eliminating them all together might not be possible, it is always worth the effort to try. Lowering the rates of these issues also helps break the cycle, as trauma leads to more people developing mental illnesses. Healing members of the community will help to heal the whole community. With a degree in psychology, I will have studied the various therapy methods and know the basics to help me further research anymore specific mental illnesses or treatment types. I will not be able to know it all, but I hope to know enough to start the recovery process with my patients.

At my lowest point, I felt detached from my body. It didn’t feel like my own, like something I benefited from. The only thing it did was exist and such existence was torture for me. I hated my mind, the way it always panicked and thought the worst of me. The way I felt about myself was awful and was not something I could live with, so I went to therapy. Instead of being told to just “love myself”, my therapist helped me become neutral. I accepted my thoughts and feelings but did not let them consume me. Doing that felt so freeing. It changed my body and mind from the enemy to a part of me. The negative feelings about myself started to subside and in their absence a new appreciation for myself grew. I was able to notice the unique parts of my personality that I was actually proud of. A stark contrast from before, my body became something I respected and wanted to preserve. Now I take care of my body as a way to take care of myself, to have control. I spend time honoring myself in order to feel more at peace with life. It’s a way for me to maintain balance. More importantly, it is also a way to prevent my mental health from deteriorating. Mental and physical health go hand in hand. My anxiety interferes with my appetite and physical strength just as my lack of sleep or proper food worsens my mental state. The last thing I want is to live my life once again feeling miserable all the time. But it is not only about me. When I don’t take care of myself, I tend to lash out and affect the people around me. I can be withdrawn or even rude to the ones I love. Someone who hurts their loved ones is not the person I want to grow to be. So, I dedicate myself to building good habits of self care and a healthy lifestyle. Unfortunately, living a healthy life can feel impossible as a college student. I definitely have struggles with time management. I find it hard to set aside time to unwind, cook good food, sleep enough, and work out. I am so consumed by my classes, homework, and my part time job that I feel there is no part of me left for anything else. Even when I do get moments of free time, I tend to have no money left after living expenses to do the easier methods of being healthy. While there are affordable options like working out at the park or cooking at home, those take more time which is a resource I do not have. This does not mean that I am not healthy at all, I do cook simple healthy recipes at home and try to get exercise by walking to classes. But deep down there is so much more I want to do. I am hoping a healthy life will be more obtainable after graduation when I only have to manage a job. However, there is a chance for me to cut down my hours at work next year if I manage to get enough scholarships.

How can one flourish when they don’t feel accepted? While my queerness certainly was part of it, many other aspects of myself also made me a black sheep. I questioned aspects of the world that everyone else seemed to naturally assimilated into. I hard weird interests and struggled to keep a normal conversation. It felt like almost every part of me was pressed into being toned down for the comfort of others. I often felt silenced by my own family. If not that, then I would just sense that there were parts of me that worked differently than everyone else. Whether my thoughts or my heart, I was always on a different wavelength. This made me feel lonely and conflicted about myself for a long time. That confliction disappeared once I found my people. The LGBTQ+ community embraced more than just an acceptance of sexuality and gender. It shared values of open mindedness to all ways of non conformity. They are accepting of a polyamorous lifestyle, of neurodivergent people, and anyone else who doesn’t fit in. Through this community, I learned to love and embrace myself. It gave me confidence, and more importantly, it gave me hope. This community showed me that the world could be filled with love and kindness once you find the right people. Before I found my community, I struggled so long with my mental health. I developed unhealthy coping mechanisms which lead my parents to send me to therapy. Unfortunately, therapy also has its struggles. I faced dismissive therapists, some ignorant to the point of unintentionally causing me harm. I felt belittled and as if I had to try and justify the struggles that nearly killed me. But I held out through the several failed therapists. I found an amazing one after a few months. Most people don’t have a few months left to hold on though. That’s why I became passionate about becoming a therapist. I wanted to find some other teenagers in need before they come across therapists like the ones that hurt me. This motivation pushed me through my college experience. I love my major of psychology. It gives me hope that I will do good in the world. Not only is it about something personal to me, but it works with values of mine. I can give people second chances. I can help others who have suffered like me heal their trauma.

While you never know what someone else is going through, it is still worthwhile to be observant and check in on others. College can be a difficult transition: being away from family, living somewhere new, having to balance more responsibilities for the first time, etc. I know firsthand how lonely it can feel. Last year, I did my best to support other students around me and make college life easier. I started a monthly game night in my dorm to give everyone a chance to blow off steam and meet new people. I also included prices to help with self care like face masks and lotions. On a more personal level, I took notice of aspects of adulthood that my friends were struggling in. My roommate did not know how to start adult responsibilities and was clueless where to begin. So, I helped him apply to the place I was working at. I went over interview tips with him, taught him that you actually have to check your voicemail and call back, and helped him set up direct deposit for his paychecks. He was also clueless about how to build credit. I advised him to become an authorized user on his parent’s credit card and get a secured card of his own to build his credit score. Beyond teaching new skills, I also helped a friend manage their mental health during the difficult transition to college. He was overwhelmed with schoolwork and barely got out of the dorm besides for classes. He would also forget to eat most of the time. So, I would remind him to take breaks and do something nice for himself. I also made sure to occasionally stop by his room and drop off some food to make sure he had something to eat late at night when our dining hall was closed. As small as my actions were, I felt that I made a dramatic impact on the people around me. For my career goals, I want to pursue a job in therapy. Even though therapists can still get jobs with a Bachelor’s, I wish to pursue a PhD. The extra years in school can help me hone in on the best methods and practices for my patients. I also want to learn as much as possible about trauma, mental illness, and addiction. Within my doctorate studies, I hope to have the chance to research new therapy methods or even better medical treatments. One interest of mine is addiction as my father struggled with an opioid addiction throughout most of my childhood. I know firsthand how much addiction can harm families. In high school, my personal experiences around addiction inspired me to research more on it and the ways addicts can be supported. While we have come a long way, there is still so much stigma around addiction and failing medical systems. I hope that in the long run, I can either prevent addictions or help people overcome it by helping them heal from their traumas. All I want to do is be someone that can support others through their lowest moments. After getting my PhD, I will use it to serve my communicate through providing therapy when I end up as a psychologist. With my education, I can help in public service issues facing mental health.

As a child, I always felt weak and without control of my own life. I couldn’t prevent my parents divorce or my dads drug addiction. I couldn’t do anything about the flaws I saw in the world but lacked the words to describe. While I couldn’t see myself as someone capable of making changes, I could read about heroes similar to me that were able to do the impossible. Reading had become more than just my escape from the world… it was my inspiration for what to make of my own life. But my problems grew bigger as I got older. Reading slowly became lost from my life as I focused more on school. Finding BookTok on my for-you-page sparked back that dormant passion. It’s the reason I finally got my first library card and hopefully the reason that reading becomes an important part of my life again. My ideal bookshelf would be filled with books that cover main characters taking on broken societies. Whether they succeed or not, I find it cathartic to see my own gripes with the world addressed. In addition, I want to follow a challenge from BookTok of reading from diverse/underrepresented authors. More so, I want entire shelves dedicated to female authors, BIPOC authors, and queer authors. The first book I absolutely must have is Hell Followed With Us by Andrew Joseph White. Honestly, I want to collect all books from this author as his works resonates with me. That is probably because he is also transgender and autistic. His works touch on the specific struggles and interpretations queer and disabled people have. This one in particular touches on reclaiming agency after being restricted and demonized by others. The book fulfills a strong need for transgender readers to find horror that resonates with them while also leaving them satisfied at the thought of having power over the people that hurt them. It hits on some common traumas and issues with religion. While not a typical inspiration, it tells a story that deeply resonates with people who faced similar hardships. Another inspiring book is Iron Widow by Xiran Jay Zhao. Their book not only resonates with female rage and desire to be free from oppression, but they follow the lessons of their work in real life. They are an outspoken activist showing BookTok how we can connect politics with our passions. The story book also revolutionizes the love triangle trope by putting the main character in a polyamorous relationship. Overall, my expectations for a female protagonist have been raised. Speaking of female protagonists, Last Girls Standing by Jennifer Dugan has a complex main character who is attempting to overcome her trauma while building a relationship with her girlfriend. This book gives all thriller lovers something to cry about together. It is devastating with the enhanced uses of a plot twist and narration that leaves you questioning how much is actually describing reality. This story resonates so much more with me since it’s about queer characters. It shows BookTok that there’s a way to write queer stories that aren’t just romance or centered around coming out. Instead, books could have queer characters facing challenges separate to sexuality just like most straight characters. Dugan’s book might push BookTok to popularize more queer stories beyond the typical romance book.

I have always wanted to have kids, but —unlike most people— I plan on building my family through fostering. This is something I’ve wanted since freshman year of high school. It is something I bring up every time I begin a new relationship to make sure I only end up with people with similar goals. Most people have a desire to have biological or even adopt as they feel that it is easier. But I know being a parent is never an easy job anyway. I would rather spend my time being a parent to those who need it most and might go through their entire lives never having a proper role model. Even more outlandish is the fact that I want to foster teenagers. They are the least likely to find homes since they are seen as “damaged” and too much trouble. These teenagers also have a low chance of getting adopted as most adopters look for younger and cuter kids, typically babies. That is why I feel the need to foster teenagers. I want to be the person to take in the kids no one else wants and give them the love and care they deserve. While my mom believes I must be out of my mind for wanting this, I believe deep down it is something I have to do. Being a foster parent is a passion of mine because of the impact it has on the kids. For LGBTQ+ foster youth, it can be hard to find an accepting and safe home to live in. Giving these kids a place to safely express themselves will mean the world to them. I can also help guide queer youth through their self discover journey as I know all to well how daunting it is to be questioning who you are. My own family was not the most supportive during my own self discovery. While not malicious, the difficulties stemmed from their lack of understanding of the queer experience. As a queer adult, I hope I can be open minded enough about the community to ensure these kids go through a smooth self discovery. But my home will not only be limited to LGBTQ+ kids. I want to be a safe place for all foster teens and give them at least one secure home they can reach out to before they age out of the system. Foster teens have of higher chance of getting incarcerated, addicted to drugs, and trafficked. Maybe one safe home can make a life changing difference.

I like to think my experience has softened my heart. There is some detrimental stigma against substance abuse. The judgement and shame against is has done more harm than good for those who struggle with it. My personal experience has helped me to be more understanding of the complexities of substance abuse. I take time to try to understand the reasons why a person may resort to such coping methods. This open mindedness and empathy allows me to push past any bias that causes disgust about the topic. Addiction is uncomfortable to face, but forcing those who struggle from it out of view will not fix anything. I have a belief that some may call naive, but I think requires strength to have. I think all people have good in them. Beyond that, I think any person can improve if given the right support. This belief makes me have faith in people even if they do not have faith in themselves. I highly value self reflection and personal growth as something everyone needs and anyone can do. While I think it is attainable, I know personal growth can be a daunting and laborious process. That is why it is so important to have social programs that support people through their healing. I think a focus on more rehabilitative processes rather than just punishment will help in many societal issues. While drug use and addiction can be impacted, so can crime and poverty. Large societal change may not be possible in my lifetime, however, I still wish to do as much as I can to personally improve the lives of people who come across me. One way I try to live by my believes is by being supportive in any of my relationships. I check in on my friends and ensure I am a safe person they can come to and not feel judged by. I try not to make assumptions about the people I care about so that they feel comfortable expressing any unconventional parts of themselves. While I obviously cannot force anyone to share their struggles with me, I try to be very open and honest about my own struggles so my loved ones know that I am open to discussion about it. I think that it is easier to share deep and personal stuff about yourself after someone else shares first. So, I try to be the one to take on the tough role of being the first to speak up. This practice of mine will probably also help me for my future career. As my values and high amounts of empathy may hint, I want to be a therapist. My own struggles and experiences have inspired me to become the kind of person that can support others. I think a life of helping people heal and improve themselves will be fulfilling. But more importantly, this is a field that is in high demand of quality workers. I personally know how awful the process can be to find a good therapist. If I can be there to give people hope and support, maybe there will be less people out there who give up on themselves.

There is never enough time in a day. Work, commuting, household chores, cooking, and grocery shopping take over most of the day. But my mom still did her best to take time for me. Even when she was preoccupied thinking of the many issues she alone had to handle, my mom still was observant of the little things I took interest in. One of my interests was a nuisance to her. My love of story writing made me demand access to her computer to type and preserve my creations. When she could spare her work laptop, the afternoons after school would be spent typing tirelessly until nightfall. Instead of pushing me away from a hobby that inconvenienced her, she told me she was proud of me. After a few months, she even surprised me with my first computer of my own. She was happy to give me the resources I needed to explore my passions. Her love and confidence in me gave her the patience to be supportive instead of dismissive. Her support has made me grow up to be a dreamer. I am a stubborn person who chases after unreasonable goals because “what if they work?”, “why can’t I be the one to do it?”. I have learned to embrace challenge and follow wherever my heart takes me. My mothers confidence in me sprouted my trust in myself to handle whatever life throws at me. While I have yet to publish a story, I am still working on that goal to this day. But numerous more goals have blossomed in my mind as I became more adventurous. By trusting my bleeding heart, I have allowed myself to be sensitive and empathetic of others. I believe that all people have good in them and wish to bring out that good by healing people in therapy. While it is a less direct approach, I think it will make society better for all. Without the confidence my mother instilled in me, I would have never found the courage to try and change the world. There is one goal my mother does not agree with due to her fears of my well-being, but her support in me as a child made me a person who now can follow their dreams even if others disagree with it. I have wanted to become a foster parent for years. It is a nonnegotiable aspect of my future that I make sure any romantic partners are well aware of. While she means the best, my mother is terrified of the draining aspects of dealing with traumatized youth. Unfortunately, my bleeding heart feels that those kids need a loving home. Without her support in the past, I never would have become someone who pursues goals that no one else believes in.

I first discovered tarot in my self discovery journey of spirituality. I had never connected with modern and typical religions I was exposed to but still wanted a connection to something explaining the meanings of the world. One day when scrolling on social media, I stumbled upon real life witchcraft. This practice was more using herbs and connecting with nature rather than the spectacle fantasy stories made it to be, yet it spoke to me. This was the kind of worship I had been searching for, the kind that respects and honors nature. One aspect used within this practice is tarot. This was one of the ways a person can seek guidance or answers, kind of like prayer. Tarot does self reflection rather than wish making, but still can feel like a magical process. I love the many ways it can be done too: 3 cards for past/present/future, one card to answer your question, pentagram spread, divination spread, etc. I love the options it gives to allow people to form their own style. The idea that there is no right or wrong way, as long as you do not cause harm, is so freeing to me. My favorite tarot card is the Justice card from the Major Arcana. The justice card is about equity, morality, and empathy. I resonate with it as someone known for being overly empathetic. Some call me weak for my bleeding heart, but I think it gives me the kindness and patience I need to make the world a better place. I also highly value fairness even though "the world isn't fair". Just because something is typical does not mean it is right. While my strong sense of right and wrong may be linked to my autism, I do not think it is a difficult standard to uphold. I think it is our responsibility as members of society to push the world to be the best it can be. It is worth the time and effort to help others. I think it will benefit us all to make life more fair to others who have suffered. I also love how the card can be used to remind you that you need to listen to others and check your bias. In a way, it can be telling you to step back and observe when the card is reversed. Taking a moment to evaluate before action is an important quality for people to develop. Better decisions can be made when people take time to be sure before acting. In a world full of misery, I think the lessons from this card are exactly what we need to make change.

The most powerful way a song connects with a person is when it makes them feel seen. When it touches on something in you that is too vulnerable to express, the song can change your life. As a little girl, Taylor Swift and Katy Perry were my favorite artists. First, I listened to their fun songs that were easy to have dance parties with. Growing up, I learned to appreciate the ones with deeper meanings. Taylor Swift touched on the feminine rage that was so hard for me to express. She was a ray of positivity that let her fans know that kindness was better in your life than hate. Her confidence in herself to shake off hater inspired me. One specific song made me feel supported in a way that even my parents had failed to. “You Need To Calm Down” was important to me because it was the first song I ever heard that actually said the word gay. I remember I was still to scared to sing the one line that used the word when around my family, but her acknowledgment meant the world to me. It made me feel safe knowing she had my back and defended gay people. I wonder if I would have ever found the confidence to come out if this song was never released. Playing it in front of my family was a way for me to test their reactions and get more confident that I would be safe to confide in them. The confidence I got from her songs extended to more than just accepting myself, it gave me the strength to speak out about my beliefs. I realized that my values matter and I should defend others without fear of backlash from others who disagree. Controversial topics can be scary and difficult but I am pushing myself to face them. Taylor Swift was the stepping stone I needed to embrace feminism. Her songs touched on the unfairness women go through and fired a passion in me to chase after equality. Even though I always believed in the values of feminism, I was used to it being a bad word from the people around me. Her actions and songs proved to me that using your voice matters. With the era tour, those songs from my childhood came back again. More than mere nostalgia, they were reminders of why I discovered myself and needed to stay true to who I am.

My first computer was given to me after my mom got sick of me borrowing hers. I was 10 years old with no insecurities about my writing or my ability to succeed at something new. An interactive story app I used allowed people to also upload stories of their own and I jumped at the opportunity. There was the obstacle of writing the story in the format this app worked, as it was animated and relied entirely on coding to make the story. I was no child prodigy, so I had no idea how to code. But my stubbornness would not allow me to rage quit no matter how confusing it was. I would spend hours after school trying, failing, and researching. Once I had finally discovered how coding worked for this app, I was unstoppable. Unfortunately for my mom, this meant her computer she needed for work would be snatched by me often. So, she finally decided it would be easier to just buy me my own. Little did she know that this one investment would give me the confidence to consider a dream of one day becoming an author. Although I have not typed any code in years, I still have a love for creating stories. That strong determination that pushed me to teach myself coding still rests inside me. While I may not currently have ideas for revolutionary stories like the classics, my own work still can benefit society. Books of any kind benefit a person’s growth and brain development. Reading is a challenge, it grows the imagination. Certain stories can force a person to see through new perspectives and challenge their way of thinking. For minorities, my stories can also work to bring representation to underrepresented groups. Having queer, disabled, or mentally ill characters to look up to can empower real people within these groups. I personal think the power of reading is invaluable and so important after the decline in education from the pandemic. While authors are not the biggest heroes in our world, they hold more power than they think. Even with this deep respect for the power of books, I struggle to find time to write. Responsibilities of schoolwork and part-time jobs took over most of my days. With an extra 24 hours each day, I could dive into all the work my novels required. The extra time would ensure I could properly research every aspect of my work. Political systems for world building, sword fighting methods for action scenes, and even real cultures to inspire my fictional ones will all require extensive amounts of notes. Once my research is done, I could start mapping out the plot and scenes within each chapter. While navigating the timeline of the story, I will also extensively fill out character biographies for every single person in my books. Only after my planning is done will I start writing the first draft. Then revise to make a second draft, then a third. I could use a full 24 hours just on editing itself. This extra time in general would give me the freedom to finally write while also having to work to live. Coming up with unique writing ideas has always been easy for me. They seem to constantly pop up in my brain. Finding a story concept to work with will always be the easiest part for me. But the ideas rarely stay with one consistent topic. The time I am most creative when trying would be when I am alone with my thoughts. The moments without distractions like my phone, people, etc. trigger creativity.

Friends are one of the most influential role models. In elementary school, I was still so naive. I could not tell a bully from a friend. I let others hurt me and accepted it as a normal part of life. I was a shy child struggling to keep the few friends I had. Those same toxic friends finally turned on someone else. I was given a chance to be on the other side, to laugh instead of being laughed at. I had a chance of revenge. The friend of mine who gave in to the bullies and teased me was now the target. While outside during a class activity, the main bully and my other friend who became her right hand man pulled me to the side. They decided in private that our other friend was no longer good enough. I was told to shun her. They were subtle and manipulative. They worded it as her becoming rude and less fun to be around. I turned to see my old friend just out of earshot, still so close to us. My stomach was unsettled. I did not have the words nor experience to pinpoint what it was, but something felt wrong. The two beside me were angered by my hesitation. “Come on, let’s go” “Come with us!” “What are you doing?!”. My people pleasing tendencies had me feeling sick from this situation. To my surprise, I looked them both in the eyes and excused myself. I was in disbelief with each step I made. Once I reached the friend they wanted to abandon, I felt at peace. Reflecting on that moment made me realize I was being peer pressured. It was not a request to hang out but a demand to turn my back on a friend. At the time, I just did not want her to feel lonely. It felt wrong to leave a friend on her own. I am proud of myself for following my instincts. I subconsciously did the right thing, which gives me reassurance that I am a good person. It takes strength to walk away from such events. A stronger friendship blossomed between us. I slowly grew into a kinder person. This experience had me learn that I did not have to treat others the way that I have been treated. My strength grew little by little after the event, eventually leading me to cut ties with the toxic people in my life. Those five minutes were unknowingly a milestone for me. That is a proud moment for me. One I would do again and again. This memory is a summary of my character. The previous physical abuse and taunts had broken me down yet I still found strength to cling to my values. I hope I continue to resist the subtlety of immoral requests as I enter adulthood. There are many actions I regret doing within that school year. That day showed my redemption arc.

Even the best of people can disappoint you. I used to trust that having a degree, experience, and a professional status meant a person was an expert. That they knew everything about the subject. But when I went to my first psychiatrist begging for help, for someone to get me out of my dark suicidal mind space, I was told that I was not depressed enough. I was literally told I was faking it for attention. It didn’t stop after the first person either, several said there were no mental health issues even as my symptoms got worse. My suicide attempts were dismissed as not actually trying since I did not do enough damage. Even mental health professionals fall for bias and misconceptions. Thankfully, I finally found someone who believed me and helped me. But I can’t help but feel hurt knowing others do not get so lucky. After years of working on myself, I decided I wanted to be a therapist. I wanted to be the kind of person I needed as a teenager. Unlike other professionals who do not trust and listen to their patients, I hope to be humble person who understands mental health is a fresher study and that new diagnoses constantly are discovered. I will be mindful of how I talk to patients since those in therapy can be in the fragilest of states sometimes, the wrong phrasing can be taken negatively and cause a patient to shut down. The desire to add one more good therapist to the world, to even help just one person in a time of need, motivates me throughout my studies. Being a good therapist will help all parts of my community, as every culture or group has their own struggles. Certain populations can be more at risk, but long term effects connect to all of us. Mental health ties into a variety of issues like homelessness, school shootings, addiction, and crime. Uplifting those in a desperate state can prevent all these issues. Although eliminating them all together might not be possible, it is always worth the effort to try. Lowering the rates of these issues also helps break the cycle, as trauma leads to more people developing mental illnesses. Healing members of the community will help to heal the whole community. With a degree in psychology, I will have studied the various therapy methods and know the basics to help me further research anymore specific mental illnesses or treatment types. I will not be able to know it all, but I hope to know enough to start the recovery process with my patients.

Years ago I asked my mom why she votes Republican since she is not a traditional or religious person. She told me it’s because she has to put her family first and solely focus on what benefits the home: lowering taxes. I have never agreed with my mom’s individualistic ways: I still offer help to homeless people even when she says they’re all drug addicts, I go to protests when she says no one will actually listen or make change, and I most importantly have hope in people. We have all, in one way or another, been in need of aid and to be given a chance. Going out of my way to help others makes the world a little less hostile, which in the future can be helpful to me when I get to a low spot. People have their faith in humanity restored after witnessing or being given a genuine act of kindness. That is why everyone loves those uplifting videos about helping others. Lending a hand strengthens the community which builds us all up. Like how everyone picking up some litter at the park leads to a clean and safe space for all, helping others cleans out people’s attitudes and behavior. Giving a homeless person a meal might have prevented them from stealing in desperation. In a way, acts of kindness can prevent future misdeeds. People are not born evil and wanting to cause suffering. While there is never a simple person to blame, more people intervening in life can change the course of someone’s future. It can also make future allies. Someone who’s lost dog you found may come to your rescue when you’re being robbed for example. I believe that good deeds spread around like karma, doing good will bring it back to you. Kind acts do affect people even when it is not immediately visible. Even without direct benefits, helping others and doing the right thing is always important. It is a common theme in superhero shows to never stray to the dark side no matter how hard it gets. Doing good deeds preserves our own humanity. I do good for others because I know what kind of person I want to be. Helping people makes me feel good and like I have power to change the world. With the terrible state the world is in, being able to help others makes me not feel helpless. Most importantly, helping others gives life meaning.

My Barbie Dream House is located by a meadow connected to the world through a dirt path but mostly restricted in nature surrounded by a nearby pond and a forest. The entrance of the house is two stories high with the roof rounded to be shaped like the top of a mushroom. The roof will be gray and made of smooth materials that make it look fuzzy and soft. The outside walls will be white and textured to give the vibe that it was made from stone. The rest of the house behind it will have curved walls to mimic a hill and the roof will be covered in soil so that grass and shrubs can grow over it, hiding the rest of the house. There will be a pond filled with fish and a garden full of fruits and vegetables in front of the home. In the mushroom-shaped section, the downstairs will consist of the kitchen and living room. The kitchen will be Victorian-style with white and gray tiled floors and wood walls, but the cabinets will be painted black. All appliances will either be vintage or altered so the exterior looks to be wooden. The living room will have a stone fireplace with green walls. The house windows will be covered in crystalized rainbow-stained glass except for one upstairs window. That rainbow will be in the library with a bench along the side of the window with cushions and a bookcase built under the bench. The library is a small room only the size of a walk-in closet that is lined with bookshelves. Under the fake hill-like section of the house are the two bathrooms and bedrooms. The bathrooms are lined with marbled tile. They have a shower/tub hybrid. The first bedroom is lined with brick walls and has a wooden desk along with a queen-sized bed. The second bedroom will have wooden walls and a white bed. This bedroom will also have a desk and draping white curtains that go around the bed.

My mother always hated the idea of going to college. She said she did just fine finding a job that could support her and her 4 kids without a degree. She said the debt that comes from going to college is not worth the degree. Debt leaves graduates in either a similar financial boat than those without, or even worse off. Her job getting people approved for loans allowed her to see how debt gets in the way even decades later and can ruin lives. But I was always determined to go to college. I have loved learning throughout my childhood and saw how important access to education and growing knowledge is. After finding my passion in the mental health field, I had not only a desire but an urgent need to get my degree. College came with a lot of surprises neither I nor my parents were prepared for random extra fees added on to tuition, limited college housing causing housing insecurity, and all my classes filling up before I could register. It is overwhelming, but I am annoyingly stubborn and will see this through. One major challenge hanging over my head is the financial burden of college. My parents both have my younger sisters to worry about and do not have any more money left in the bank to help me out. While I have managed to get a part-time job to make a dent, I can barely scrape by with the money I earn. I would have had to choose between rent or food next month if not for my student loan. Knowing I have at least three more years to live like this and have graduate school to consider makes me feel like dropping out could be necessary. A scholarship like this would lift some of my burdens. I could push through my undergraduate years knowing I have some of the tuition covered. I could even use the extra money I would have spent on college to save up for graduate school. Another way a scholarship would make my life better is that I could work less during the semester. With more of my expenses covered, I would not have to exhaust myself and limit the time I spend on school. I could take full advantage of everything college has to offer. My love of learning would not be killed by me burning myself out. Bringing the joy back would also fuel my passion and encourage me to chase after my dreams. The money would not only lead to happier and less stressful college experience, it would also allow me to be finacially secure enough after school to start a family. I could build a happy life of my own this way.

For someone who used to be a stubborn child in need of candy bribes in order to read, I have learned to deeply love books and have become obsessed with reading. It was the deeper stories that took you on a rollercoaster of emotions like By the Great Hornspoon or Island By the Blue Dolphins that perked my interest in reading. Reading these in class got me excited and made our lessons more personal. My beloved childhood books raised me just as much as my parents and formed the person I am today. One major lesson from the books I have read is empathy and understanding the perspective of others. Through reading, you always see the main character's perspective and understand them which is what gets the reader emotionally invested. I realized everyone has their own story and I would rather be a supportive side character rather than another obstacle. This made me more patient with others and allowed me to understand people before acting on assumptions. I used the lessons on empathy to befriend my elementary school bullies. Now, I want to use this strong sense of empathy to help others. I want to become a mentor to troubled youth by being a foster parent. I also want to guide people through their own stories by becoming a therapist. By doing this, I hope to make the world more understanding, kind, and patient. Reading also grew my sense of curiosity. I tend to question how anything and everything works. This pushes me to look at all the little details and gather more knowledge about the world. Through reading, I have experienced gold mining, hunting, and so much more. Now I have the desire to go out and get some of those experiences of my own. I will travel the world and eagerly accept new experiences. I do not want the years of my life to waste away, I will find passion and adventure of my own too. I will take on new hobbies and push myself to get as much out of this life as I can. The greatest lesson of all from my reading has to be that the world is a beautiful place. Reading helps to romanticize the small moments like cooking or even cleaning. The stories pause to stop and occasionally admire nature, so I will as well. I never would have found the beauty of just sitting and observing the world without first reading what details there are to miss. As I go through mundane routine experiences, I want to stay engaged with my surroundings and romanticize my life. I will take pleasure from as much as I can and find new moments to love. Reading is more than just an escape from life. Through the stories we gather, people learn how to live life.

Some people believe therapy is an easy thing and that all therapists can help you, others believe therapy is a scam and that therapists are greedy for money and do not even help you. Both are wrong. There is a diverse community of therapists, some are completely awful and harmful while others just are not the right fit for individuals personally. Therapy does work but it takes time to find a compatible therapist. There is more than one method of therapy, and different therapists use different approaches. There is no "one size fits all" when it comes to therapy. I was unaware of this when I first started therapy. My little knowledge left me thinking simply finding a therapist was all I needed. I was so hopeful to get help that I forced myself to push through sessions that felt uncomfortable and left me with more dread than satisfaction. I even faced a therapist who told me I was faking because I tried to kill myself "the wrong way". He said I failed my suicide attempt because I was not trying hard enough, therefore I did not need help. He made me feel worse and even made a part of me want to try again to prove him wrong. Fortunately for me, I was at a decent enough place mentally to not let harsh words from a cruel therapist stop me. But there are plenty of others who come to therapy at their weakest and are susceptible to phrases like that. I am terrified for others like me starting therapy and facing professionals who fail them. It felt wrong then and my feelings are only further validated now. It took me six tries to find someone who helped me. Six tries is more than some people can hold on for. Six is way too many therapists doing more harm than good. My calling has always been in the mental health field since then. The only career I want is one that helps others. What better way to do that than to help those facing the same struggles as I did? I want to be a therapist so that there is at least one more good therapist in the world. There will be one more that does not accidentally coax patients to kill themselves. I want others suffering to have someone who will listen to them and not dismiss them. The last thing anyone suffering internally needs is an outsider trying to dictate what they can feel and what is real. I know I can be a great therapist because I understand the impact my words can have on others. Being a therapist to me is not just some job I want, it's one small way to make the world better. It is my way of helping others and serving my community.

Even the best of people can disappoint you. I used to trust that having a degree, experience, and a professional status meant a person was an expert. That they knew everything about the subject. But when I went to my first psychiatrist begging for help, for someone to get me out of my dark suicidal mind space, I was told that I was not depressed enough. I was literally told I was faking it for attention. It didn’t stop after the first person either, several said there were no mental health issues even as my symptoms got worse. My suicide attempts were dismissed as not actually trying since I did not do enough damage. Even mental health professionals fall for bias and misconceptions. Thankfully, I finally found someone who believed me and helped me. But I can’t help but feel hurt knowing others do not get so lucky. After years of working on myself, I decided I wanted to be a therapist. I wanted to be the kind of person I needed as a teenager. Unlike other professionals who do not trust and listen to their patients, I hope to be humble person who understands mental health is a fresher study and that new diagnoses constantly are discovered. I will be mindful of how I talk to patients since those in therapy can be in the fragilest of states sometimes, the wrong phrasing can be taken negatively and cause a patient to shut down. The desire to add one more good therapist to the world, to even help just one person in a time of need, motivates me throughout my studies. Being a good therapist will help all parts of my community, as every culture or group has their own struggles. Certain populations can be more at risk, but long term effects connect to all of us. Mental health ties into a variety of issues like homelessness, school shootings, addiction, and crime. Uplifting those in a desperate state can prevent all these issues. Although eliminating them all together might not be possible, it is always worth the effort to try. Lowering the rates of these issues also helps break the cycle, as trauma leads to more people developing mental illnesses. Healing members of the community will help to heal the whole community. With a degree in psychology, I will have studied the various therapy methods and know the basics to help me further research anymore specific mental illnesses or treatment types. I will not be able to know it all, but I hope to know enough to start the recovery process with my patients.

I have always hated trick questions. They rarely come up in tests but, after facing one, I always fear each question I see could be one too. It has me second guessing myself on the most simple of questions. Math has always been a safe subject in that there’s no chance of ambiguity. Math only has one correct answer, there is no “pick the best answer” in a list of somewhat correct answers. There is no bias or preference for a teacher to have. With math, you can trust the answer you get. In a way, it’s so much simpler than other subjects. Solving math problems sometimes feels like a fun puzzle. It can feel relaxing to fly through the questions, just like using a coloring book. Even with the difficult questions, you have immediate satisfaction after solving them because you know you got them right. With English or Science or History, you could have remembered a fact wrong. Math usually leaves you at peace knowing what you got right and wrong. Meanwhile, some of my best tests from other subjects still had me question whether or not I failed them. I think math is the one subject you do not stress about outside the classroom. I’m thankful at least one subject is always reliable no matter what school you’re in.

Seeing someone pacing around a room talking to himself tends to unnerve the typical bystander. Though I pride myself on being progressive and tolerant, in the past, I admit, I judged someone who exhibited that kind of behavior. Then again, given the context--a mental hospital—maybe my assessment made sense. After all, many of the people in there were dangerous in one way or another; they did have the potential to harm themselves or others. With this in mind, I labeled that boy as a threat and made a conscious decision to avoid him. He never actually did anything to me; I just made assumptions after only a few minutes of observing him. In my mind I reached for the easy, pre-printed sticker and stuck it on him, viewing him as delusional and menacing despite my making no effort to get to know him. Then he did something I did not expect. He walked up to where I was sitting and introduced himself in coherent sentences. What pained my heart is when he apologized for any behavior that might unsettle me. At this moment I do not remember his specific diagnosis, but he described his mental illnesses and why they caused him to act the way he did. I found his need to explain himself to me humbling. He did not owe me this explanation. A person should not be required to come talk to me to fix any wrong assumptions I might make. He did anyway. Then we continued to have a conversation. We laughed and joked together just like any other pair of teenagers. I found he was a sweet, shy person who loved playing video games. Far from being someone to fear, he turned out to be a likeable guy and great conversational partner. Suddenly something shifted in my brain. I found myself emerging from kind of a trance. At that moment I realized there really was no difference between so-called dangerous people and myself. We shared the same human DNA, quirks and all. We also shared a need to be treated with dignity. Of course, I knew it remained important to protect myself and maintain boundaries, but doing those things did not necessitate hurting others. Also, I realized that a person perceived as normal could sometimes pose a threat to others. In other words, I came to understand that the real danger lies in applying random labels to people. Even more importantly, someone else’s struggles should not strip them of their humanity. I will be forever grateful for how that encounter led me to these realizations. Meeting that boy made me adapt and grow. No matter what led him and others like him to be hospitalized, those kids just needed someone to try and understand them. Which is how I discovered that I gravitate toward the mental health field. I like that its mission is to listen to each, individual voice. Seeing the suffering of other misunderstood kids made me want to become someone they can count on. Not only that one boy, but the girl I’m foster care terrified to be discharged because she had no home to go and all the others with their own tragic stories. Becoming a therapist will enable me to make helping others my lifes work. I know this will not be easy and will require a lot of patience. But then, neuro-divergent people have had to be patient forever in dealing with a world mostly ignorant of their needs. Knowing this motivates me to rise to the challenge of becoming their devoted ally and advocate.

Recovery mean’s actually living life and enjoying it. Instead of letting the days pass by in a blur, you follow your passions and make memories. Recovery means not repressing your feelings and traumas and instead facing them and healing. This allows you to be more engaged with life as you are more connected to what is happening. Along with these healthy habits, it also includes not isolating yourself. Getting sober and staying sober is a struggle, so building a community and relying on others is a key component. It can be brutal and exhausting, but along the way you slowly see everything that you have been missing. Being in recovery brings color and passion back to your life.

Both middle school and high school both have multiple presentations and lecture on addiction and drug use. Even elementary school has red ribbon week and DFYIT assemblies. One terrifying fact told is the higher likelihood of becoming an addict when a parent is an addict. I was well aware of the warnings and dangers but I never thought that would be me. No one ever thinks terrible things can happen to them, until it does happen. I find it ironic how my own addiction started before I found out about my father’s own addiction. Unknowingly to me, my father had been addicted to opioids since I was five. It started as a prescription for a back injury, until it was used to escape other types of pain. His struggle caused many fights between me and my mom, eventually leading to a divorce when I was 12. Being surrounded by their fighting gave me severe mental health issues. In middle school, I finally caved into an addiction as a way to cope. It consumed my life and all my attention. Unless I was actively partaking in my addiction, all the pain and issues I was avoiding would come back and hit harder with the shame of my unhealthy coping mechanism. I isolated myself and ended up with no friends for awhile. I spent breaks at school in the bathroom while trying to escape reality. I felt trapped in this cold and lonely cycle. I managed to fight for my future by going to my parents for help. Finally had convinced them to get my therapy once they saw the lengths I went to. There have been a few relapses over the years since then, but now I’m at a place where it almost doesn’t feel real that I was once addicted. I am more involved in my community and my own life. I’ve made some lovely friends and have fallen in love a few times. Being sober has allowed me to chase after old dreams and make new ones. I feel free to live my life and pursue my passions. The world is so much brighter when you allow yourself to feel and express your emotions. My education will be used to help me become a therapist. I will use it to help other people like me grow and heal. Either working as a therapist or counselor at a rehab helping people get sober, or helping those struggling with mental illness and mental health problems get stable and take control of their lives. I want to help other people escape the dark cycles they are trapped in and find the beauty possibilities in the world like I have.

Parents often unfortunately pass on their own struggles to their children. Whether it be generational trauma, mental illness, or addiction; the curse moves from parent to child. My dad struggled with an opioid addiction my entire childhood and beginning of my adolescence. In a morbidly humorous way, I was spared from the expected trauma that comes with an addicted parent. I was unaware he had a problem. But maybe that was because he was so emotionally distant and detached that I knew little about him besides what he looked like. I know my dad tried, we have some memories of when he was sober, but most of my life he was only physically present. He was never engaged. That led to several fights between him and my mom. I picked up a few mental illnesses and traumas along the way. I have struggled with depression and anxiety for as long as I can remember, although I did not have the words for it until middle school when I saw posts about mental health. My parents did not belief in the seriousness of mental illness and mental health despite my own cries for help. They only gave in when my self harm addiction became an issue. In therapy, I discovered the vast other issues I had that I was unaware of. It was validating but also depressing at first. I learned that my random fits of overwhelming frustration were actually panic attacks, which made the symptoms I felt make a lot more sense. I also discovered that I had a very low self esteem and developed no sense of identity. My internal struggles had stunted so much of myself. I unknowingly missed important moments. Thankfully, therapy allowed me to take time to look after myself and grow. I did not have a linear path to recovery though: there were some suicide attempts and occasional depressive episodes. There will unfortunately always be some struggle that I have to live with, but I hope to grow strong enough to face the life ahead of me. My grades never suffered much. This fact was actually used as an excuse to not get me help. The misconception that only people with low grades struggle almost killed me. My suffering in school caused me to have panic attacks throughout classes. I would miss entire lessons and have to teach it to myself at home. Depression drained all my energy and motivation, leaving assignments unattended until the last minute. Even though I managed my grades, I always felt so stressed and hated myself. I associated school with my failure. Taking my grades too personally almost eliminated my passion for learning. Although, I am working every day to unlearn my unhealthy mindset. I take mental health days to ensure I never have to sit through another class during a panic attack. My previous school days have been filled with suffering, but I want my college experience to have some joy. So, I face my emotions and traumas head on. With enough luck, I will be healed enough to spare my own children the curse.

Parents often unfortunately pass on their own struggles to their children. Whether it be generational trauma, mental illness, or addiction; the curse moves from parent to child. My dad struggled with an opioid addiction my entire childhood and beginning of my adolescence. In a morbidly humorous way, I was spared from the expected trauma that comes with an addicted parent. I was unaware he had a problem. But maybe that was because he was so emotionally distant and detached that I knew little about him besides what he looked like. I know my dad tried, we have some memories of when he was sober, but most of my life he was only physically present. He was never engaged. That led to several fights between him and my mom. I picked up a few mental illnesses and traumas along the way. I have struggled with depression and anxiety for as long as I can remember, although I did not have the words for it until middle school when I saw posts about mental health. My parents did not belief in the seriousness of mental illness and mental health despite my own cries for help. They only gave in when my self harm addiction became an issue. In therapy, I discovered the vast other issues I had that I was unaware of. It was validating but also depressing at first. I learned that my random fits of overwhelming frustration were actually panic attacks, which made the symptoms I felt make a lot more sense. I also discovered that I had a very low self esteem and developed no sense of identity. My internal struggles had stunted so much of myself. I unknowingly missed important moments. Thankfully, therapy allowed me to take time to look after myself and grow. I did not have a linear path to recovery though: there were some suicide attempts and occasional depressive episodes. There will unfortunately always be some struggle that I have to live with, but I hope to grow strong enough to face the life ahead of me. My grades never suffered much. This fact was actually used as an excuse to not get me help. The misconception that only people with low grades struggle almost killed me. My suffering in school caused me to have panic attacks throughout classes. I would miss entire lessons and have to teach it to myself at home. Depression drained all my energy and motivation, leaving assignments unattended until the last minute. Even though I managed my grades, I always felt so stressed and hated myself. I associated school with my failure. Taking my grades too personally almost eliminated my passion for learning. Although, I am working every day to unlearn my unhealthy mindset. I take mental health days to ensure I never have to sit through another class during a panic attack. My previous school days have been filled with suffering, but I want my college experience to have some joy. So, I face my emotions and traumas head on. With enough luck, I will be healed enough to spare my own children the curse.

Mental illness is something you cannot hate nor love. It can ruin moments, take lives, and take any hope for the future. Yet, it is still apart of you. You cannot hate your mental illness without hating yourself, which only then worsens your symptoms. It is something I am forced to live with and have to keep peace with. While it has caused me great pain, living with mental illness throughout many formative years has an affect on who I am. From my empathy for others to my political views on how to treat the worst parts of society, each have in some way been swayed by my own suffering. Before I was diagnosed, I could barely make it through the day. Looking back, I cannot comprehend how I survived on my own. I started getting occasional panic attacks in middle school. Not understanding what was happening to me made them worse. Panic attacks feel like you’re breathing in a room without oxygen. You can feel your lungs moving as the air flows through your throat, but you still seem to be suffocating. These episodes sometimes led me to break down and cry in front of my classroom for no apparent reason. Landing in one of these depressive spirals caused me to close myself off from people and lose my ability to focus in class. Freshman year of high school was a nonstop period of depression and anxiety. I would get panic attacks every day in math class that lasted the entire period. As a result, I would miss the substance of the lesson only to reteach it to myself at home to catch up. Surprisingly, I managed to keep up with my peers and even get an A in the class. At the same time, I was completely shut down, not making any new friends or even allowing my old friends in. I stopped engaging and hid in the bathroom during breaks. There is still pain and struggle to this day, but I also have more control over myself. Coping mechanisms and self reflection have allowed my life to not be run by my mental illness. Hard days or even months still happen, but I feel more secure with myself and can function so much better now. I have allowed myself to have big and bold dreams. I believe in myself and let myself get passionate to pursue them. In the process of taking care of myself, I developed a stubbornness hellbent on proving people wrong. This fuels me to chase after any far fetched dream I may have, like running my own shelter. No matter what doubts exist, I know that all people have a chance of changing for the better. This makes me want to give out second chances and do everything I can to uplift those in need. One of my biggest dreams is to become a foster parent and care for the teenagers that are often neglected and given up on.

Every detail about me seems to be the opposite of normal, the reverse of what my family and wanted and demanded of me. Be girly, be straight, be neurotypical, be conforming. My voice was muffled out by others voicing what they knew I must be. There was no way that sweet little girl they knew me to be could be nonbinary, pansexual, a very strong willed political and human rights advocate, polyamorous, mentally ill, autistic, and every other overlooked part of me. Almost all of who I am was dismissed by the people I love. But I have learned to speak up more as I grow, standing up for myself even when it means causing conflict at best and ending relationships at worst. I have become stubborn in happily proving people wrong as a way to stay strong. Proving the haters wrong has been my motivation to make it through life in one piece. I tell myself: I will transition and thrive in a body that feels right. I will become a foster parent and successfully raise a functional and loving family. I will achieve every dream that I am told is impossible. During my worst moments, when my mental health issues are draining me, I imagine all the beautiful things I can do in my life. My dreams of buying an apartment building and taking in homeless tenants rent free. Turning that building to a shelter that provides resources to help people slowly build themselves back on their feet. Or owning an animal shelter. Saving the most loyal of companions that have been abandoned by the humans that put them in this path. Or even the simplest dream of having a decent job that allows me to live a middle class life. A life where I come home to a loving partner, meowing cats, and a few playful children. I hope to learn how to successfully start non profits to give back to my community, after I ensure that I am financially stable. In case my wild dreams do not happen, I at the very least want to donate and create my own scholarships and grants towards the LGBTQ+ community and other minorities groups that are suffering. I suppose I will also be giving back to those around me by becoming a therapist. My career will allow me to help heal those within my community and hopefully end cycles of trauma.

Parents often unfortunately pass on their own struggles to their children. Whether it be generational trauma, mental illness, or addiction; the curse moves from parent to child. My dad struggled with an opioid addiction my entire childhood and beginning of my adolescence. In a morbidly humorous way, I was spared from the expected trauma that comes with an addicted parent. I was unaware he had a problem. But maybe that was because he was so emotionally distant and detached that I knew little about him besides what he looked like. I know my dad tried, we have some memories of when he was sober, but most of my life he was only physically present. He was never engaged. That led to several fights between him and my mom. I picked up a few mental illnesses and traumas along the way. I have struggled with depression and anxiety for as long as I can remember, although I did not have the words for it until middle school when I saw posts about mental health. My parents did not belief in the seriousness of mental illness and mental health despite my own cries for help. They only gave in when my self harm addiction became an issue. In therapy, I discovered the vast other issues I had that I was unaware of. It was validating but also depressing at first. I learned that my random fits of overwhelming frustration were actually panic attacks, which made the symptoms I felt make a lot more sense. I also discovered that I had a very low self esteem and developed no sense of identity. My internal struggles had stunted so much of myself. I unknowingly missed important moments. Thankfully, therapy allowed me to take time to look after myself and grow. I did not have a linear path to recovery though: there were some suicide attempts and occasional depressive episodes. There will unfortunately always be some struggle that I have to live with, but I hope to grow strong enough to face the life ahead of me. My grades never suffered much. This fact was actually used as an excuse to not get me help. The misconception that only people with low grades struggle almost killed me. My suffering in school caused me to have panic attacks throughout classes. I would miss entire lessons and have to teach it to myself at home. Depression drained all my energy and motivation, leaving assignments unattended until the last minute. Even though I managed my grades, I always felt so stressed and hated myself. I associated school with my failure. Taking my grades too personally almost eliminated my passion for learning. Although, I am working every day to unlearn my unhealthy mindset. I take mental health days to ensure I never have to sit through another class during a panic attack. My previous school days have been filled with suffering, but I want my college experience to have some joy. So, I face my emotions and traumas head on. With enough luck, I will be healed enough to spare my own children the curse.

Every detail about me seems to be the opposite of normal, the reverse of what my family and wanted and demanded of me. Be girly, be straight, be neurotypical, be conforming. My voice was muffled out by others voicing what they knew I must be. There was no way that sweet little girl they knew me to be could be nonbinary, pansexual, a very strong willed political and human rights advocate, polyamorous, mentally ill, autistic, and every other overlooked part of me. Almost all of who I am was dismissed by the people I love. But I have learned to speak up more as I grow, standing up for myself even when it means causing conflict at best and ending relationships at worst. I have become stubborn in happily proving people wrong as a way to stay strong. Proving the haters wrong has been my motivation to make it through life in one piece. I tell myself: I will transition and thrive in a body that feels right. I will become a foster parent and successfully raise a functional and loving family. I will achieve every dream that I am told is impossible. During my worst moments, when my mental health issues are draining me, I imagine all the beautiful things I can do in my life. My dreams of buying an apartment building and taking in homeless tenants rent free. Turning that building to a shelter that provides resources to help people slowly build themselves back on their feet. Or owning an animal shelter. Saving the most loyal of companions that have been abandoned by the humans that put them in this path. Or even the simplest dream of having a decent job that allows me to live a middle class life. A life where I come home to a loving partner, meowing cats, and a few playful children. I need to succeed to not only prove doubters wrong, but inspire others. To show that life can be beautiful and there are never too many dreams. I have to accomplish all my dreams to show that people can. There is also a fear of never achieving my dreams that I must overcome. I am terrified that I will get stuck in a mundane routine and let life pass by me. Sticking to my passions will ensure I do not let my life go and then suffer in the future for that mistake.

Seeing someone pacing around a room talking to himself tends to unnerve the typical bystander. Though I pride myself on being progressive and tolerant, in the past, I admit, I judged someone who exhibited that kind of behavior. Then again, given the context--a mental hospital—maybe my assessment made sense. After all, many of the people in there were dangerous in one way or another; they did have the potential to harm themselves or others. With this in mind, I labeled that boy as a threat and made a conscious decision to avoid him. He never actually did anything to me; I just made assumptions after only a few minutes of observing him. Even worse, I held these misconceptions knowing that I was sent to the same place for my own suicide attempt. Now I feel ashamed for being so judgmental because these days I consider myself a mental health activist. I have spent many hours listening to stories about how negative labeling hurts people. I know how toxic and damaging it can be, how it can alter the course of a person’s life. Yet I still fell for the societal conditioning to reject those we do not understand. In my mind I reached for the easy, pre-printed sticker and stuck it on him, viewing him as delusional and menacing despite my making no effort to get to know him. I can never see “bad” people the same way after my suicidal and depressive episode. When I was hospitalized, I faced mentally ill people for the first time (that I knew were mentally I’ll at the time). All my prejudice against “real mental illness” like antisocial personality disorder, borderline personality disorder, and schizophrenia vanished after spending a few days playing uno and having casual conversations with people suffering from mental illnesses. Seeing how behavior is caused by deep pain and suffering made me so much more empathetic. It’s hard for me now to hate or judge someone instead of immediately questioning what awful things they must be going through privately. I now believe everyone has good in them and can become a thriving individual if their needs are met. Some may say I ignore red flags by having this mindset, however, I can believe in and support others while keeping myself at a safe distance. I see the world as a place filled with trauma and people reacting to it differently. There is no inherently evil person. My own mental health experiences have caused struggles in my relationships, but also make the bonds I have stronger. I do tend to mix up excuses with explanations when it comes to understanding peoples trauma and emotions and how it affects their behavior. In trying to be understanding, I often push aside the red flags. I am still working on boundaries and am putting myself first a bit more every day. Relationships can thrive when one or more partner is mentally ill, but it involves communication, effort, and patience. Following these steps to avoid toxic relationships does make me closer to my loved ones. The times when my feelings are validated and boundaries are affirmed seem to heal my inner child bit by bit. Career wise, mental health has become my full focus. I am studying psychology in hopes of becoming a therapist. My personal experience has shown me the many ways our healthcare system fails those with mental health issues. I have been dismissed and ignored, especially by old condescending cis-straight white men. Having more variety in therapy providers ensures more clients needs are met. Different cultures will view struggles differently and therapy is almost impossible without a therapist that understands your communities perspective. Maybe having one more queer therapist won’t save the world(we never know though), but it sure as hell can at least save one more life.

It started off lonely. I felt isolated from everyone I cared about, constantly judged. After coming out I felt this immense pressure to not be “that” gay person. My mom said she was accepting but constantly told me I talked about it too much. Every time I met someone new, it was a terrifying decision of whether or not I wanted to hide my sexuality and gender identity. It took a toll on me. My loved ones think it’s no big deal and there is so much more to me than being queer. That is true, although my sexuality and gender identity are tied to all that I am. There is more to me than my orientation, but without being able to mention it I only am a shell of a person. Then I finally met people from my community. These troubles still persisted, but it was such a relief to talk to people who felt like I did, to know I was not being dramatic and my struggles were valid. I love being LGBTQ+ because that immense joy I get from my community is like no other. The friends I made were nonjudgmental and more accepting of everything overall after facing such struggles when coming out. It is so freeing to openly enjoy my passions and just be weird sometimes. I don’t have to tip toe around topics when I am with my own people. I am studying psychology to become a therapist. My community has made me more open minded and empathetic, while also showing me how we disproportionately suffer with mental health. I want to listen to people and valid their experiences. I hope being a therapist I can do my part to lower the amount of trauma within our society. I also want to become a foster parent for LGBTQ+ teens. The foster care system is a mess and teens are often treated as damaged goods and discarded. LGBTQ+ teens are lucky to get any place to stay, let alone a safe and supportive one. I hope by taking in teens I can make even a little impact on the traumas of the foster care system. So, my goals are to heal people in whatever plausible ways I can and spread love.

I have managed to be able to take care of my loved ones and pursued my passion of started a non profit providing affordable housing and helping underprivileged people get education and job opportunities.

Everyone would benefit from reading Educated by Tara Westover. Her book is the true story of her life and all the suffering she overcame. She grew up isolated from the world as her family were strictly religious and preparing for a doomsday apocalypse. The only education she had was the little her mother would go over using old textbooks. Yet still Tara managed to find her own dreams outside of what the family had planned for her. She slowly overcame the toxic mindsets she grew up with. Tara did physically leave home and escape but there was a long journey of overcoming the trauma and letting go of the habits she was raised with. She ended the cycle of abuse, although interestingly her sister was included in the story to show how others continue the cycle of trauma and abuse. The book explains her process of accepting that she was being abused and mistreated and how she healed from it. Most people assume everyone lives a life similar to them. We would never consider the possibility a friend or schoolmate is going through trauma that they do not even understand yet. This book puts the reader into the perspective of someone raised in an abusive and dysfunctional family. For victims of similar abuse, this book can help them analyze their own life in a different perspective and show them what better futures are possible if they escape and heal. So it would benefit all of the world to read this book and be given the knowledge of how to identify abuse and mistreatment and ways to escape it.

There are still flaws within our progressing healthcare system. Mental health services have come a long way but still leave many patients suffering. My issues were dismissed as attention seeking. I was gaslit after seeking help. I had to fight to finally be diagnosed and treated for depression and anxiety. There is a chance that I am also autistic but I am fearful to pursue a diagnosis after my past experiences with the mental health system. I want to become a therapist so there is at least one other person who can recognize the signs. My patients will never feel invalidated. Psychology has always interested me. I am a curious person and love to learn how the human mind works. The explanations for why trauma forms and the connections related to mental illness amaze me. I want to learn tools to help others. A career in psychology will give me a chance to help others in the ways I have been helped, while also doing better in the ways that others have failed. I am interested in societal behavior as well. I find it important to understand how groups can be influenced. This helps people catch themselves doing subconscious acts. I would like to learn how to keep myself an individual and prevent bias. I love learning how the human mind works as it can be applied to better yourself and others. My mental illnesses will not stop me from living a fulfilling life. Depressive episodes can make it a struggle to show up to my shifts. I usually set an alarm 30 minutes beforehand so I have time to mentally prepare. I will get comfortable in a blanket while eating snacks. Panic attacks also distract me but I have learned breathing exercises along with other coping mechanisms. Despite the obstacles, I make it through all my shifts at the movie theater. I keep a cheerful spirit with my coworkers and customers. People can sense this attitude and often give it back. The friendliness of others helps me hold on during the hours. Similarly, on my low days I battle finishing schoolwork. My value of education helps me keep my focus. I remind myself of the importance of stimulating my mind to open up new neural pathways. When my anxiety remains too much, I set timers just to make little progress between breaks. This makes me more productive than just sitting in front of a computer with a foggy mind. Managing my mental illness has to be personalized to the situation. If I am stuck outside within a crowd, then I search for a distraction. I look for something comforting like a baby or an animal. Other times, I stim alone to self regulate. I also tend to lay down while doing breathing exercises. One of my favorite methods is blasting music. The consistent noise helps calm me. Additionally, I am marveled by the stories within the lyrics. I can imagine a different world and let myself be taken away. Through my career as a therapist, I will help many grow to function on there own. I will intervene early in the lives of my patients. Having support can make a person develop healthy habits. Listening to my patients will prevent trauma from the mental health system. I will make people comfortable speaking out and demanding health. I will study and educate myself on the smaller and lesser known illnesses so that no patient is misdiagnosed.

There are still flaws within our progressing healthcare system. Mental health services have come a long way but still leave many patients suffering. My issues were dismissed as attention seeking. I was gaslit after seeking help. I had to fight to finally be diagnosed and treated for depression and anxiety. There is a chance that I am also autistic but I am fearful to pursue a diagnosis after my past experiences with the mental health system. I want to become a therapist so there is at least one other person who can recognize the signs. My patients will never feel invalidated. Psychology has always interested me. I am a curious person and love to learn how the human mind works. The explanations for why trauma forms and the connections related to mental illness amaze me. I want to learn tools to help others. A career in psychology will give me a chance to help others in the ways I have been helped, while also doing better in the ways that others have failed. I am interested in societal behavior as well. I find it important to understand how groups can be influenced. This helps people catch themselves doing subconscious acts. I would like to learn how to keep myself an individual and prevent bias. I love learning how the human mind works as it can be applied to better yourself and others. My mental illnesses will not stop me from living a fulfilling life. Depressive episodes can make it a struggle to show up to my shifts. I usually set an alarm 30 minutes beforehand so I have time to mentally prepare. I will get comfortable in a blanket while eating snacks. Panic attacks also distract me but I have learned breathing exercises along with other coping mechanisms. Despite the obstacles, I make it through all my shifts at the movie theater. I keep a cheerful spirit with my coworkers and customers. People can sense this attitude and often give it back. The friendliness of others helps me hold on during the hours. Similarly, on my low days I battle finishing schoolwork. My value of education helps me keep my focus. I remind myself of the importance of stimulating my mind to open up new neural pathways. When my anxiety remains too much, I set timers just to make little progress between breaks. This makes me more productive than just sitting in front of a computer with a foggy mind. Managing my mental illness has to be personalized to the situation. If I am stuck outside within a crowd, then I search for a distraction. I look for something comforting like a baby or an animal. Other times, I stim alone to self regulate. I also tend to lay down while doing breathing exercises. One of my favorite methods is blasting music. The consistent noise helps calm me. Additionally, I am marveled by the stories within the lyrics. I can imagine a different world and let myself be taken away. Through my career as a therapist, I will help many grow to function on there own. I will intervene early in the lives of my patients. Having support can make a person develop healthy habits. Listening to my patients will prevent trauma from the mental health system. I will make people comfortable speaking out and demanding health. I will study and educate myself on the smaller and lesser known illnesses so that no patient is misdiagnosed.

I have never attended a funeral for a close family member. I am lucky to never experience that grief. Death used to mean nothing to me. Before I went to therapy, I was isolated and suicidal. I did not care about death because I had no one to live for. Now that I have grown stronger, I found so many loving people that I am terrified to leave behind. There is also meaning in my life. I have goals and dreams that I will spend decades pursuing. Living clean allows me to be healthier and have more time with my loved ones. Expanding my lifespan gives me the much needed time to fully experience the world. Small choices make my lifestyle more clean. Looking up a products history and ingredients for a few minutes can mean decades of harm avoided. When going to the store for a snack before work, I have started buying fruits instead of processed foods. Sometimes clean living is about what you do not chose, the items you do not buy. I may not be able to afford all of the top nutritional foods, but for now I am restricting the amount of artificial foods I eat. I hope to be able to grow fruits in my own garden someday in the future. When I have extra spending money, I wish to buy more eco friendly and safer soaps and face wash. With plants in a garden, I want to make DIY facial cleansers and other safer and simple ingredient products. Big changes take time to make, these small steps lead to clean living. With the amount of pollution in the world, it is important to also search for environmentally friendly products. I have found some plastic free alternatives to my hair washing and skincare routines online. Even though I hate the way tap water tastes due to old pipes, I have weaned off of drinking from plastic water bottles. Or even using the large gallon bottles of water instead to at least lower my amount of plastic waste. Anything to lower my carbon footprint is essential to me.

Conflict is terrifying for many people. Even though unlikely, one’s worst fears of their relationship being ruined will race through their head. Some will even go as far as to lie to avoid causing any conflict. We deny and repress the logical truth in hopes of keeping the peace. When interacting with my mom, it was always easier to just keep my head down and agree with her. This may have temporarily pushed back any arguments but it strained our relationship. It was hard for me to ever speak up because I hated feeling like a burden to others (and was often gaslight into believing I was overreacting). She would often say hurtful things to me which I let slide. My mother has strong opinions on who I should grow to be and what priorities I should have. Her need for control took over a good portion of my childhood. At some point in high school, I could not take it anymore. I did not feel safe coming to my mom for anything. She knew nothing about my life because talking to her felt so unnatural. Not speaking up led to me allowing my mother to ignore the medical care I needed, causing a small ear infection to travel to both ears and infect my throat. I suffered in pain for a week while she ran around planning and prepare if for a party (all the while well aware of my situation). I realized that I had to put myself first because she would not take care of me. I still am fearful of conflict in any situation. Change takes a lot of active effort, but I am putting in the steps to slowly grow to a stronger person. Even though I have shifted my priorities to take care of myself, I still am a kind and patient person. I give second chances to people who have hurt me and always try to be understanding of what they are going through. I have learned that there are ways to be respectful without allowing yourself to be a doormat. I feel so much more empowered now that I am taking charge of my life. It still hurts to have a rocky relationship with my mother. The hard truth is nothing will improve between us unless I face these difficult conversations. Being more assertive about my needs has improved relationships outside the one with my mother already. I am setting boundaries that will make my friendships end up stronger.

Get in the habit of making plans with people. You set a routine within the first week and the semesters will fly by. Starting school can be stressful. Students will focus so much on homework and establishing study habits that they can neglect to make time for themselves. This will make these hardworking students miss out on the life that’s going on around them. The choices you make within the first week will most likely be what you end up sticking to. So, it is important to have a balance of fun activities outside of school. @kaiii_thedisaster

Abused children struggle because no one listens to them. Adults cannot fathom a child living a home life any different then theirs. The main reason stories are acknowledged is when it’s a feel good story of adversity and rising above your environment. Any experiences not fitting this niche are pushed aside, leading the general public to only have their assumptions of what life with an abuser is like. Therapists are the few who actually listen to abused children. Studying psychology will give me the knowledge to provide abused kids with the tools they need to cope and express themselves. We will work together to get them in a strong mental place to tell the story (if they wish). Even for those who wish to keep their personal life to themselves and remain in privacy, I can compile the full truth of what abuse looks like through them. After hearing from a multitude of clients, I can accurately speak out on what abuse looks like. I can speak on how bystanders can prevent abuse. Most people just do not have the knowledge and are afraid to make any mistakes from their uncertainty. I will also advocate for better treatment and care for abused children. The foster system is a mess but I can research the best ways for social workers to act. Incorporating mental health will improve the children’s healing. Wording can be everything. I can also speak up for public demand in improvements and funding. My knowledge in the subject can give the movement direction. Some people do not reach out to have children removed from abusive homes because they fear those children will be worse off in the broken foster system. Giving peace of mind that repairs are being made will have people know they are actually saving kids. Studies on child development can give parents better guides on raising their children. There is a misconception that hitting is a form of discipline that children need. Further studies on the affects will hopefully reach these parents. The only way to break tradition is with logic and reason. Breaking the mindset that hitting children is a parenting style will also end the silence from others who witness it. People turn a blind eye due to believing it is up to the parent how they raise their child. But knowing how much pain is really caused and that it is in fact illegal will encourage more reports to be made. Psychology will help me change the mindset around abuse. I can create solutions to prevent future cases. But listening to children who have already been abused allows them to heal and mentally escape the torture of their past.

As an elementary schooler, I would hope for the day I would get a severe injury or a fatal illness. I didn’t want to die at the time, I just wanted my pain to be recognized. If I was injured, my parents would believe me and comfort me, just as they always did with visual symptoms. I just wanted my pain to be acknowledged, even if you couldn’t see it. Shockingly, my mental illness gave me a strong sense of gratitude. Focusing on the little things became one of my coping mechanisms. I was most shaped by my experiences with mental health after I hit rock bottom. What do you imagine someone just discharged from the mental hospital looks like? Perhaps the withdrawn student or the violent rebel with anger issues fits your first thought. When I was released, I was a week behind on school work. No one knew where I was or why I suddenly disappeared (except close family). I had to dodge constant uncomfortable questions, but I saw my discharge as a new beginning. I had hope that my life would improve now that I received the help I needed. I was determined to make new friends by becoming more talkative in class. Instead of doubting myself, I would raise my hand and contribute to discussions. Before class would start, I would also greet my other classmates and start conversations. I refused to let myself be alone anymore. Seeing this change as an opportunity led me to excel in school and find true friends. I found strength in focusing on what I can control, which, in turn, gave me a stronger sense of control over my life. It taught me how to make the changes I want; small decisions within each day. Mental health is often ignored because it cannot be seen. The years of being dismissed by trusted adults formed me into the person I am. Instead of allowing myself to become bitter with hate, I vowed to be better than them. My experiences have caused my empathy and open mindedness towards others to flourish . Through my lack of judgment, I have found myself many sincere friends. I push myself to do better than those who have failed me. I’m going to be a better parent, a better therapist, and a better friend. My ideals can make me feel like I have the weight of the world on my shoulders, but I will never stop giving my all to those struggling , just like I did. I view the world as a place completely filled with benevolence, even if it is hidden behind the evil. It is full of opportunities and possibilities. Ironically, my pain and suffering has made me see the world as a more beautiful place.

What do you imagine someone just discharged from the mental hospital looks like? Perhaps the withdrawn student or the violent rebel with anger issues fits your first thought. When I was released, I was a week behind on school work. No one knew where I was or why I suddenly disappeared (except close family) so I had to dodge uncomfortable questions. But I saw my discharge as a new beginning. I had hope that my life would improve now that I received the help I needed. I was determined to make new friends by becoming more talkative in class. Instead of doubting myself, I would raise my hand and contribute to discussions. Before class would start, I would also greet my other classmates and start conversations. I refused to let myself be alone anymore. Seeing this change as an opportunity made me excel in school and find true friends. I found strength in focusing on what I can control which, in turn, gave me a stronger sense of control over my life. It taught me how to make the changes I want: smalls decisions within each day.

Before I start, I would like to make it clear that I am NOT a robot. Nothing about me aligns with a typical high schooler though. I am responsible and mature. Alcohol just smells bad. What shocks people the most though is my love for taxes. It stems more from my love of learning and needing to always be prepared. Tuition payments cannot be accepted yet, so I have no bills to split the money towards. The best option is to invest in my future (even more than post secondary education). I would buy books to help expand my knowledge and skills. One of my main targets is taxes: I want to be able to confidently complete each step. Sure a nice vacation or a brand new pair of shoes would be nice, but there is still so much I have left to learn. I have to be prepared to take care of myself as an adult. Sacrifices like buying tax books instead of comic books must be made. Leaving home to be all on my own is terrifying. Extra cash to stack up my bookshelves would give me peace of mind. This is all hypothetical though. All scholarships will go towards college expenses, but they do leave spare change for bookstore runs.

Living with anxiety can make even just existing a burden. Your own mind is a prison you can never escape. I spend hours tossing and turning at night because, no matter how hard I try, I cannot shake the suffocating feeling of unease. My anxiety has followed me my entire life. But I refuse to let it take over my academic success, my social life, and all my dreams. To calm the racing thoughts in my mind, I… Cuddle up in a blanket and drink some hot chocolate: Feeling the soft fibers rub against my skin soothes me. The heat radiating off the mug comforts my hands. I devote time into self care, a conscious act that gives it more power than any other action I can take. It is a way of doing something just for me, a chance to take care of myself. Meditate: this grounding exercise connects me back to the present moment. Deep breathing regulates my body so I am not controlled by anxiety. This also helps me spiritually connect to the world around me, giving me a sense of purpose. Meditation has me realize I am merely existing in a vast universe. Knowing the world is full of movement and change -a constant struggle, I can accept my life as it is. Allowing my mind to be as it is gives me rest from the constant fight to subdue it. Walk barefoot on grass: focusing on the senses helps balance myself again. It is a way to bring me back. Physically being as close to nature as possible gives me an escape from my worries. Feeling the soft blades and leaves on my toes, I am simply present in the moment. Watch horror movies: these wild dystopian tales help me leave behind all my troubles. Watching someone survive the end of the world makes a math final feel like nothing. Seeing people step up to their highest potential in dire moments makes me believe I have enough to get through all my obstacles. Make plans to look forward to: giving an end goal helps fuel my drive. These future plans help reminds me that life will also have good moments. Focusing on something fun gives your brain a break from stressing over your problems. Coming back to an issue with a clear head opens up new ideas. This also ensures I do not waste my life away worrying about the what-ifs of the future.

In elementary school, I was still so naive. I could not tell a bully from a friend. I let others hurt me and accepted it as a normal part of life. I was a shy child struggling to keep the few friends I had. I was given a chance to be on the other side, to laugh instead of being laughed at. I had a chance of revenge. The friend of mine who gave in to the bullies and teased me was now the target. While outside during a class activity, they pulled me to the side, decided in private that our other friend was no longer good enough. I was told to shun her. I turned to see my old friend just out of earshot, still so close to us. My stomach was unsettled. I did not have the words nor experience to pinpoint what it was, but something felt wrong. The two beside me were angered by my hesitation. My people pleasing tendencies had me feeling sick from this situation. To my surprise, I looked them both in the eyes and excused myself. I was in disbelief with each step I made. Once I reached the friend they wanted to abandon, I felt at peace. It takes strength to walk away from such events. Being bold means standing alone for the right thing: I have grown to use my own voice even when pressured to conform. When being brave, allow yourself to be outcasted to defend those everyone has turned their backs on. I continue to reach out to anyone who seems lonely.

Has anyone else ever been confused by the use of credit cards? As a child, I could not comprehend where the money my mom swiped away was coming from. The concept of borrowing and accruing debt is normalized for everyone, even minors without a clue about personal finance. “You need to build credit” “Without credit you won’t have a good credit score” These sayings get repeated without any understanding. My personal finance teacher taught us what a credit score really is: a measurement of how well you manage your debt. She told us if we never go into debt, then we won’t need a credit score. There are alternatives like showing your rent and utility payments or even school report cards. A person can also always pay in cash (which doesn’t mean literal stacks of bills but money saved up). Knowing you have other options is important, even if you don’t end up using them.

1. Because I cured cancer when I was 5 and have created an utopian city with just 3 paper clips to build it. 2. To drop out of college and become a stripper… or maybe just do Onlyfans. I will learn medieval torture methods to use when I become a vigilante. Batman got it all wrong with his lack of creativity. 3. This morning I really didn’t want to get out of bed. I fought the battle of going downstairs to brush my teeth. It was brutal

As an elementary schooler, I used to wish to get a severe injury or a fatal illness. This was not because I wanted to die at that time but because then my pain would be recognized. My parents would believe me and comfort me. Mental illness is ignored because it cannot be seen. The years of being dismissed by trusted adults formed me into the person I am. Instead of allowing myself to become bitter with hate, I vowed to be better than them. My experience has grown my empathy and open mindedness towards others. This allows me to befriend all kinds of people. I round up the outcasts and misfits. My friends are all people who carry pain, but we provide the sunshine for each other. I push myself to do better than those who have failed me. I’m going to be a better parent, a better therapist, and a better friend. My savior ideals can make me feel like I have the weight of the world on my shoulders. But I will never stop giving my all to provide aid to those struggling just like I did. I see the world as a place completely filled with goodness, even if it is hidden behind the evil. It is full of opportunities and possibilities. Ironically, my pain and suffering has made me see the world as a more beautiful place.

Authors not only entertain, they can bring awareness and make their readers feel less alone. I felt isolated while dealing with family problems. My Mythology teacher assigned a book that surprisingly related to my experience: Educated by Tara Westover. The book also helped encourage me to pursue further education. She got a college education with no counseling or support from home. She overcame all of her obstacles, so can I. That inspiration is what lead me to sign up on Bold.org. Her book showed the progress of trauma. More so, the healing process. The plot has her slowly unravel the truth of her family. She gets over her denial to finally come to terms with the pain they caused her. I needed to see this. As I have grown, the issues within my household have become more apparent: the absent drug-using father and the emotionally abusive mother. Her story made me feel less alone. I will never fully understand Westover because her pain is so much deeper than mine, but it still aides me. I used to be so close with my mother. Now I’m hindsight, I see all the insecurities she caused. I went through the same steps as Westover. It was a relief to see I was not alone. Her book, her story, it gave me a voice. She found her escape. That inspires me to keep going. I know my future will get better. She found love and an education. Westover was able to escape her toxic household. This makes me feel less hopeless. Inspiration comes from feeling connected. Her book spoke to me. I know I can build a better life for myself someday, just like her.

I remember racing out of the car after school, so excited to finally be home. Being an elementary school student meant I had little homework, so I would beg my mother nonstop to let me borrow her computer. For several hours, that computer screen captivated my attention. I spent days crying trying to understand how this new program works. I taught myself how to code, even though I never had an interest before, just to keep up with the competition. A gracious opportunity from a reading app lead to my passion for writing. Episode Interactive, an archive of animated stories. The nerd in me obsessed with reading downloaded the app, making my way through all the published works. But a new update to add your own creations changed my world. Inspiration came from every interaction. Even as I child, my mind developed complex tales to tell. These stories overpowered me. Writing would suck me in to new worlds. It was an escape, giving me control over my world. Everything I kept inside to spare my family could be released in a silent way. Writing challenges me to discover a new path. There are so many overused tropes to break free from. The chance to add my own twists thrills me. Writers have to adopt new perspectives and personalities to develop characters. I wrack my brain constantly to discover more innovative ideas. I challenge myself to push beyond the boundaries past authors have lain down. I hope my writing makes other children feel less isolated.

There is no manual for how to live life, therefore, one must follow their instincts. If something is enjoyable, then it must have some purpose in your life. Two bad dancers fumbling under LED lights while a phone plays music in the bathroom. Both were dressed up in sparkling dresses. There was a magic in the air that took you away from the room with dirty laundry on the floor. It was a moment where the two were fully present, no thoughts trying to prepare for the future. They laughed as they stepped on each others dresses. Time flew as the couple became lost in each others' eyes. This was a spontaneous moment between my girlfriend and me. Wearing dresses bought from the thrift store a few moments ago, we just embraced each other without a word. There was no communication or planning, unlike most of my life. Those moments are what make life matter. The meaning of life is to find a time when you are so in tune with the world that you do not have a single thought.

Nothing is better than sharing your wildest fantasies with someone and then having them hype you up. My family tends to discourage me from my dreams. I keep moving forward despite that and uplift others with me. Love means embracing all of a person, even supporting what you do not personally follow. I tell others to follow their passions and take risks. We are told to follow the stable career and settle. I remind people that there is more to the world than simply surviving. Sometimes all you need to hear is that there is another option. I tell others that I believe in them. Most dreamers get told that it is impossible. They get warned about the chance of disappointment. But there is always that slight chance of success. I always push the ones I love to take that chance. After all, somebody has to win it. The most encouraging of all though, is to stay in people’s lives by their side throughout the entire process. I will stand by and watch as their dreams go. I will listen to all the obstacles of the process. It is encouraging to know the support given is not conditional on perfect results.

Happiness and pleasure can be confused, but they are vastly different experiences. In a sense, pleasure is for the short term while happiness is long term. Joy is being present in the moment. It gives life meaning. The simple miracles all around you can be clouded by materialistic goals and values. Breaking away from stressful habits allows you to find joy in just existing. It is an escape. Small moments of happiness are what kept me sane. One moment of laughter gave me strength to stay alive a little longer. So, joy is everything to me. When my loud parents would stress me out, I would look out the car window and be calmed by all the green. Nature has a powerful connection that grounds me. Just one look can make life seem to be worth something again. Late night talks while half asleep have always been the most meaningful in all relationships I have. Being completely open about any and all thoughts brings a peace like no other. I seek out that joy in those unplanned moments, those special bonds that grow spontaneously. Happiness is not something to be forced. All that is necessary is a shift in perspective to find it.

Stubbornness is a controversial quality. It creates the grit to achieve greatness while also creating rifts in relationships. My stubbornness has made me appear spiteful. When someone tells me I cannot do something, I go out of my way to excel at it to prove them wrong. Being told a dream is impossible only fuels my ambition for it. Seeing those inspirational stories told in the media makes me want to add to them. My success will lead others to greatness. The greater the number of people that doubt me, the more fun the journey becomes. Settling for student debt has become part of our culture. It is a crooked tradition passed down from generation to generation. I despise following the boring path. I will never settle and instead find evidence to prove my point, to find a loophole. I love discovering another way. I found articles about people who received too many scholarships, those who got excess money. I am constantly writing or, to be more accurate, typing on my computer. Whenever I have free time in class, I open up scholarship websites. I type out rough drafts while waiting in the car to pick up my sister. All the work I have put in has not been wasted as I continue to grow with each application. My competitive nature and drive to prove others wrong motivates me. The need to inspire others is overbearing. If I can find a way to make it in this world then there is hope for others.

Most people will know the pain of baring one’s heart to only get a clueless response. Not having proper listening skills leads to others feeling ignored. I happen to have a natural talent for listening. I’m sure that having empathy as my top trait does help, but I also understand how much deeper listening is than most think. Kids are smarter than we realize, they do have a sense of proper listening. But empathetic skills take time and children naturally tend to be self focused. So while they lack awareness of others, children do notice when their own needs are met and can be observed to demand authentic listening. It's a skill about making people’s voices heard. You have to set up a safe atmosphere before you even speak a word. I tend to draw people to come to me and share what they never felt comfortable speaking out loud. Like when a new immigrant girl from my school shared how moving away deeply hurt her and that she did not want to burden anyone with her feelings. I learned to make myself seem friendly and approachable. I started off being open to new perspectives, not judging is key to reaching the connection needed for listening. I have also learned to step back while listening. I do not focus on what I am going to say next or respond. I have also stopped giving unprompted advice. After many heartfelt conversations with my mom, it was brought to my attention that rushing to give advice seems to dismiss feelings. Focusing solely on advice sends the message that you do not truly want to listen and are rushing to find the quickest way to end the conversation. This skill not only helps others, it gains close relationships and helps teamwork with coworkers.

I remember racing out of the car after school, so excited to finally be home. Being an elementary school student meant I had little homework, so I would beg my mother nonstop to let me borrow her computer. For several hours, that computer screen captivated my attention. I spent days crying trying to understand how this new program works. I taught myself how to code, even though I never had an interest before, just to keep up with the competition. A gracious opportunity from a reading app lead to my passion for writing. Episode Interactive, an archive of animated stories. The nerd in me obsessed with reading downloaded the app, making my way through all the published works. But a new update to add your own creations changed my world. Inspiration came from every interaction. Even as I child, my mind developed complex tales to tell. These stories overpowered me. Writing would suck me in to new worlds. It was an escape, giving me control over my world. Writing was an outlet from all the emotions I had pent up. Everything I kept inside to spare my family could be released in a silent way. I find the creativity, the original thought, to be absolutely beautiful. Writing challenges me to discover a new path. There are so many overused tropes to break free from. The chance to add my own twists thrills me. Stories make people grow. Writers have to adopt new perspectives and personalities to develop characters. The characters I make tend to even surprise me. Taking over my fingers to rapidly type thoughts not yet entered, they add life to my stories. Skilled writers find a way to bond with readers. There is a connection like no other within the pages.

The Shalekhet, otherwise known as the Fallen Leaves, inspires me. It is in a Berlin museum and is a statement piece about the Holocaust. The metal faces are made to be walked on. This piece of art is bold and meant to make people uncomfortable. It takes courage to make a piece that will anger many. People face backlash after making others uncomfortable. Artists can sometimes be censored to please others. Statement pieces like this are even more important now due to that censorship. Art is not always beautiful, but it is rich and deep. The meaning behind the work is what adds the value. Such a creative idea is worthy of being adored, not because of any positive feelings, but because of the pain that the art will not allow to be ignored. This work of art is real. I only hope it will remain safe from those who wish to silence the past.

Authors not only entertain, they can bring awareness and make their readers feel less alone. I felt isolated while dealing with family problems. My Mythology teacher assigned a book that surprisingly related to my experience: Educated by Tara Westover. The book also helped encourage me to pursue further education. She got a college education with no counseling or support from home. She overcame all of her obstacles, so can I. That inspiration is what lead me to sign up on Bold.org. Her book showed the progress of trauma. More so, the healing process. The plot has her slowly unravel the truth of her family. She gets over her denial to finally come to terms with the pain they caused her. I needed to see this. As I have grown, the issues within my household have become more apparent: the absent drug-using father and the emotionally abusive mother. Her story made me feel less alone. I will never fully understand Westover because her pain is so much deeper than mine, but it still aides me. I used to be so close with my mother. Now I’m hindsight, I see all the insecurities she caused. I went through the same steps as Westover. It was a relief to see I was not alone. Her book, her story, it gave me a voice. She found her escape. That inspires me to keep going. I know my future will get better. She found love and an education. Westover was able to escape her toxic household. This makes me feel less hopeless. Inspiration comes from feeling connected. Her book spoke to me. I know I can build a better life for myself someday, just like her.

My goals are simple: be a foster parent and live a happy life with those I love. I imagine that traveling would be a way to fill my life with happiness. But simple moments at home will mean the world. All I want is to be able to take care of the people I care about. To achieve success I will be careful and studious. Patience will mean everything. I will follow a plan to ensure I reach my goal. Several stages will adapt over the years, firstly with obtaining scholarships. At this moment, now that I have been accepted to colleges, the goal is to be able to afford them. My mission is to obtain as little debt as possible. Reaching that goal means spending hours on scholarship essays. I also work two jobs to save up for college. A college education is one way to build my success. Not obtaining debt to weigh me down allows me to start my life sooner. The future is full of surprises. Working hard is the only way to guarantee a rewarding life.

Ever since I was a young child, one of my main goals was to be a parent. I want to build a family through fostering in the future. I constantly check fostering websites to stay up to date with the requirements. Meeting the needs of foster parenting is what drives me to keep working hard and find a stable income. My degree in psychology will help me to better understand and care for these children. The financial stability from my career will help me build a home faster. I can then provide my children with the resources they need. A decent paycheck is important because these foster youth deserve the world after what they have been through. Affording a multi bedroom house is one of the foster parent requirements. In this economy, most people struggle to make ends meet with a roommate. Living with another person complicates the foster care process so I must afford to live alone.

We all think we are the main character, but there is a whole world filled with elaborate stories around us. You never know what the person next to you is going through. I try my best to be there for people. I never assume their life situation. I pay for friends food to make sure they eat during the school day. I drive my girlfriend home to make sure she’s safe. I drive her so that she doesn’t have to risk getting in a strangers car when there are no buses scheduled. Volunteering also allows me to give back to my community! I clean up the local areas and volunteer in government activities. Sometimes giving back is as simple as handing someone a candy bar or a pencil. I make sure I am a shoulder to cry on for those who need it because the best gift is often open ears. Giving can sometimes save a life, which is why I give as much as I can.

Most people will know the pain of baring one’s heart to only get a clueless response. Not having proper listening skills leads to others feeling ignored. I happen to have a natural talent for listening. I’m sure that having empathy as my top trait does help, but I also understand how much deeper listening is than most think. Kids are smarter than we realize, they do have a sense of proper listening. But empathetic skills take time and children naturally tend to be self focused. So while they lack awareness of others, children do notice when their own needs are met and can be observed to demand authentic listening. It's a skill about making people’s voices heard. You have to set up a safe atmosphere before you even speak a word. I tend to draw people to come to me and share what they never felt comfortable speaking out loud. Like when a new immigrant girl from my school shared how moving away deeply hurt her and that she did not want to burden anyone with her feelings. I learned to make myself seem friendly and approachable. I started off being open to new perspectives, not judging is key to reaching the connection needed for listening. I have also learned to step back while listening. I do not focus on what I am going to say next or respond. I have also stopped giving unprompted advice. After many heartfelt conversations with my mom, it was brought to my attention that rushing to give advice seems to dismiss feelings. Focusing solely on advice sends the message that you do not truly want to listen and are rushing to find the quickest way to end the conversation. This skill not only helps others, it gains close relationships and helps teamwork with coworkers.

Living a long life and ensuring your health means being mindful. People often neglect their body, ignoring obvious signals of need. Focusing on losing weight shifts your attention away from eating enough calories to function. Burnout burdens many adults as they overwork themselves past their limit. People put themselves last. You have to listen to your body. Feed it when your stomach grumbles. Give it breaks and take it outside. Spending the entire day typing up reports for work is not good for you. You cannot sacrifice your body for immediate success. Wealth and a slim figure will mean nothing if there is not enough time in life to enjoy it. By listening to your body you rest when you need it, eat when you need to recharge, and keep yourself strong for the future. You will be building yourself up for the next decade to come instead of breaking yourself down.

Being a mentally ill student with parents who deny mental illness is like being stuck in one of those stuffy mascot costumes. You always put on a show with a mask on, but are sweating like hell while struggling to breathe on the inside. I was frustrated at school; I loved learning but would get overstimulated and break down. Panic attacks took up my classes and cheer practice. There were mentors within the school, two kind staff members went out of their way to reach out to me. My struggle was visible for miles yet only a few acknowledged it. Their support and validation shifted the path I was on. My biology teacher sat down and listened to me. She made me feel like I wasn’t some attention seeker. My cheer coach called me down during my breakdowns and would escort me to a counselor. Without them, I would have stayed isolated. I never would have broken out of my shell nor gotten help. Worse of all, I could have possibly turned to reckless behavior and substances to cope. Or simply stopped trying at all. My mentors kept me alive long enough to apply for college. I was able to get the help I needed to become a functioning person. The main strength I developed was using my voice to demand what I need, even when being silenced by others. This will be important in college as none of the staff goes to you, you have to reach out yourself. One adult intervening can mean the difference between a student dropping out or ending up in grad school. Their support shifts mindsets. My mentors gave me hope for the future. Hope drives people to work hard. I will look through mentors throughout my college experience. I tend to befriend teachers so I should find a few to learn from. I also selectively chose my dormitory to be surrounded by potential mentors. I hope to find open minded upperclassman to support me. Anyone with more experience can be a mentor. Mentors will push me to expand my mind. More importantly, they will tell me to knock it off before I work myself to death. I do struggle to balance life outside of school. Maybe I will find a mentor to ensure I have fun with my life and don’t spend all of college in the library. Balancing life would be a great lesson to pass down.

In elementary school, I was naive. I could not tell a bully from a friend. I let others hurt me. Those same toxic friends finally turned on someone else. I was given a chance to join the other side, to laugh instead of being laughed at. The friend of mine who gave in to the bullies and teased me was now the target. The two bullies pulled me to the side. They decided that our other friend was no longer good enough. I was told to shun her. I turned to see my old friend just out of earshot. I did not have the words nor experience to pinpoint what it was, but something felt wrong. The two beside me were angered by my hesitation. My people pleasing tendencies had me feeling sick from this situation. To my surprise, I looked them both in the eyes and excused myself. I was in disbelief with each step I made. Once I reached her, I felt at peace. Reflecting on that moment made me realize I was being peer pressured. It was not a request to hang out but a demand to turn my back on a friend. At the time, I just did not want her to feel lonely. It felt wrong to leave a friend on her own. I subconsciously did the right thing, which gives me reassurance that I am a good person. It takes strength to walk away from such events. A stronger friendship blossomed between us. This experience had me learn that I did not have to treat others the way that I have been treated. My strength grew little by little after the event, eventually leading me to cut ties with the toxic people in my life. Those five minutes were unknowingly a milestone for me.

We are all much more gullible than we realize. Especially when it comes to parents, we are too trusting. I sadly can admit I too fall for lies. Whenever someone says a statement with full confidence, we automatically remember it as true. My personal finance teacher debunked myth after myth for my class. One of her lessons was simply titled: Never Invest In What You Do Not Understand. She told us that research was key. Everyone says to buy stocks, that you have got to invest to make money. She told us to dismiss any and all advice until we spend a considerable amount of time researching. My mother and her boyfriend pressure me to start investing now if I am really serious about it. But I want to be smart with my money. I have spent hours browsing the web to compare all types of investments. After saving multiple books on investing and taxes in my wishlist, I have decided to not make any decisions until I finish reading them all. Unfortunately, I cannot afford to buy these books just yet. I will wait patiently for the day I can, because I know the best investment to make first is in myself.

The impact started long before I was born, back when my parents first began dating. They were young college dropouts. Their relationship was foolish and forced. It was close to ending as there was no real passion between them. The tragic loss of my dad’s best friend brought them closer together, confusing these strong emotions for love. Nolan Dean LeMar was killed by a drunk driver when he was 19. A death alone impacts many lives. Drunk driving stole a child from his parents, a friend from his group, and a bright young man from this world. The effects of drunk driving trickle down to anyone with a slight connection. The mourning of him led to my parents getting married, which ended up a poor marriage. They divorced 12 years later, after fighting for most of it, leaving my sisters and I heartbroken. During the divorce, I was made aware of my father's addiction. My father turned to drugs to cope with the loss of his friend. This made him absent and emotionally unavailable for most of my childhood. He lost milestone moments within the formative years of his children. I grew up without a relationship with my father, only building one at age 13 after he went to rehab. Drunk driving stole my father from me. It also stole years of my childhood that was ruined by trauma. In a way, the person I am today was formed by drunk driving. I aspire to be smarter than my parents. I will be stable and process my trauma before starting a family. I have grown up to think carefully and make calculated decisions. My girlfriend and I are going to be cautious about marriage. We want to ensure we are dedicated to each other. I plan on traveling around the world with her. We are gonna be better parents. We will foster children who also missed out on important moments with their parents. To provide for the family I plan to have, I am going to work tirelessly and study in college. My degree will allow me to fulfill my dream of becoming a therapist. I love helping others so I know I will thrive in this career. This cycle will end with me. I have seen the mistakes of my parents, what the pain of the past has driven them to do, which will allow me to avoid the same fate.

My girlfriend is my everything. She gives me hope for the future. She comforts me at night when I break down from the financial stress of college. We both make sure the other is staying healthy. She reminds me to take breaks from scholarships and eat. We go on dates to escape the world and ground ourselves. She is the one that gives every moment in life beauty. The future I imagine for us drives me to work harder. We balance each other.

My favorite nights as a child were when I was laughing so hard I would nearly pee myself at sleepovers. No matter what was going on, my friends and I would find the most random things to laugh at. We would spend hours talking throughout the night, starting conversations that felt natural and without thought. I find another family within my friends. Friendship brings me a sense of security, it is a necessity of life. Good friends strengthen you. I make sure to find people who build me up. Balancing being supportive and hysterically making fun of each other is key to a good friendship. For me, it is a way to find happiness. I have had friends turn on me, abuse me, and manipulate me. I now know that true friendship comes from special people. It means getting encouragement instead of dismissal. My past experiences help me weed out people in my life. Real friends make you feel at home wherever you are. It does not matter the amount, only the type of people you are surrounded with.

I remember racing out of the car after school, so excited to finally be home. Being an elementary school student meant I had little homework, so I would beg my mother nonstop to let me borrow her computer. For several hours, that computer screen captivated my attention. I spent days crying trying to understand how this new program works. I taught myself how to code, even though I never had an interest before, just to keep up with the competition. A gracious opportunity from a reading app lead to my passion for writing. Episode Interactive, an archive of animated stories. The nerd in me obsessed with reading downloaded the app, making my way through all the published works. But a new update to add your own creations changed my world. Inspiration came from every interaction. Even as I child, my mind developed complex tales to tell. These stories overpowered me. Writing would suck me in to new worlds. It was an escape, giving me control over my world. Writing was an outlet from all the emotions I had pent up. Everything I kept inside to spare my family could be released in a silent way. I find the creativity, the original thought, to be absolutely beautiful. Writing challenges me to discover a new path. There are so many overused tropes to break free from. The chance to add my own twists thrills me. Stories make people grow. Writers have to adopt new perspectives and personalities to develop characters. The characters I make tend to even surprise me. Taking over my fingers to rapidly type thoughts not yet entered, they add life to my stories. Skilled writers find a way to bond with readers. There is a connection like no other within the pages. I hope my writing makes other children feel less isolated.

The Holocaust was one of the most devastating events in history. Hitler spread so much hate with his propaganda. The most unspeakable forms of torture were done within his concentration camps. Many people failed to act in time to prevent this suffering. Irena Sendler did not freeze when caught in the middle of this devasty. This Polish woman started an underground ring to hide Jewish children from the Nazis, saving 2,500. Her unique contribution made me feel that I too could make a difference. She did not accept the world she lived in. Even when powerless, she never gave up. I sometimes fear that I will fail when my moment comes. What if fear stops me from standing up for what I believe in. It is easier to ignore what goes on in the world around us and just focus on your day-to-day life. She was smart, able to hide a list under a tree so the children can later be reunited with family. Sendler found loopholes in the system to deliver Jewish families the resources they needed. I hope to find the determination in me to never give up and always find another way. I will find a better way in every scenario of my life. Hearing of her relieves me, I know rising up is possible. Her strength amazes me. On her own, she orchestrated a resistance against the Nazis. She used the connections from work to pull strings. She got access to quarantined zones holding the victims to provide medicine and food. Instead of giving up, Sendler was creative using her resources from her social work career to give children fake identities which protected them. She never gave in, even after being captured and tortured. We should all work to be a little more like her.

As we age over the years, time flies by. Those precious moments slip right past our fingertips. The fast paced world leads to constant focus on productivity. People rush to reach the next level, missing out on the world around them. I tend to grasp onto the small things in life. I appreciate that I effortlessly find time for mindfulness. There is a child-like spirit that gets giddy when seeing a butterfly. I do a happy dance whenever I get chocolate milk. Simpler blessings in life can still fill the heart with fulfillment. This behavior may be mocked by some, but allowing myself to feel this joy gives the days meaning. I am proud of myself for not getting wrapped up in the future. My goals are indeed important, however, so are these precious milestones that are soon to pass. I love that the desire for money has not completely consumed me. A youthful spirit can be perceived as immature, but -with another perspective- I find it freeing. I love myself enough to not care how people think. I will still squeal whenever the waiter hands me an extra plate of bread.

It is never easy having parents who do not support your dreams. You still love them and they mean well, but you are left isolated. Getting a little support here and there makes this journey easier. Being awarded scholarships like this one means I am one step closer to independence. Financial freedom is just within my grasp. Obtaining even one scholarship means less nights ruined by my anxiety ridden mind. This sense of security will allow me to let loose. I can make plans with friends instead of going home to spend more hours typing scholarship essays. Even the smallest bit gives me an excuse to go out and enjoy some of my time left in high school without feeling guilty. I constantly feel like I am wasting time.The stress of planning out my entire day to be most productive is eating me up. Awarding this scholarship to me will be like a breath of fresh air. I can assure you that I will cry out in happiness from the chance to have an excuse to give myself a break. The funding alone is not the sole reason for my relief; finally being awarded a scholarship will encourage me to keep going. That one win will fuel me to make attempts at many more. After all the hours I spent writing, finally winning this one will make me feel like I did not waste months of memories. First off, I imagine winning this scholarship will save me a few grey hairs. I do have a tendency to get worked up. I am a stressball but I will spend time meditating as I grow. More free money also means less interest. Debt blocks people from building their futures. I can apply for a mortgage with the saved money. This stability gives me the chance to start my family. I would be able to be approved as a foster parent. The lack of debt, or at least a lessened version of it, gives me the spare change to spoil my children. I can travel or buy bonding family activities. The freedom without restraints of debts means I can chase my dreams. Less payments gives me access to take risks. I can try to become an author or maybe even one day save up enough to start my own non-profit. Best of all, I can accept the lesser pay career offer that allows me to help those truly in need without having to sell my kidney to feed the kids. Money cannot buy happiness, but it gives you the option to chase after opportunities that can.

Stubbornness is a controversial quality. It creates the grit to achieve greatness while also creating rifts in relationships. My stubbornness has made me appear spiteful. When someone tells me I cannot do something, I go out of my way to excel at it to prove them wrong. Being told a dream is impossible only fuels my ambition for it. Seeing those inspirational stories told in the media makes me want to add to them. My success will lead others to greatness. The greater the number of people that doubt me, the more fun the journey becomes. Settling for student debt has become part of our culture. It is a crooked tradition passed down from generation to generation. I despise following the boring path. I will never settle for the bland and the boring. I will immediately go to Google to find evidence to prove my point, to find a loophole. I love discovering another way. I found articles about people who received too many scholarships, those who got excess money. It is rare but also another option for college students. Those few exceptions are all I need to inspire me. My goal is to not make extra money for personal expenses. I will work to pay for almost all my college expenses with scholarships. Pushing myself is the only way to find out if I can do it. The song "Non Stop" from the musical Hamilton fits my attitude towards my scholarship journey. I am constantly writing or, to be more accurate, typing on my computer. Whenever I have free time in class, I open up scholarship websites. I type out rough drafts while waiting in the car to pick up my sister. As of today, I have applied to over 100 scholarships. My search for alternative school payments began in January. The around 50 rejections I have received will not discourage me. I know failure is a part of the process. All the work I have put in has not been wasted as I continue to grow with each application. I also have been working part-time for almost a year. My college savings has reached $5,000. I am not naive, I plan to work up until the first semester starts and all through my time in college. This is not the easy way, but using my own money will not cost me interest. Life is too short to stick to the safe and predictable. I call my peers to challenge themselves as I now have. My essay writing skills have vastly improved since I started this mission. The simpler options always have a cost. Hard work does pay off with, at the very least, a few more developed skills.

When I signed up for my school’s personal finance class, I did not know what useful tricks it would teach me. I assumed there would be budgeting and taxes, but that would be just about it. But there was one odd basis of the lessons that kept repeating: pay as much as you can in cash. Before taking this class, I had never heard of paying in cash. I did not understand the phrase and took it quite literally. “This crazy lady wants us to horde dollar bills under mattresses!” I thought. Later when my ignorance was quickly snuffed out, I learned that paying in cash means payment directly from savings. Her class promotes patient with financial decisions. Paying with your own money saves you from debt. Said debt ruins lives. I find this important because we are encouraged to just use credit cards. It seems you can sign up for a credit card anywhere. Everybody borrows, but the opportunities lost due to that debt is ignored.

School traditionally focuses on topics like math and science. Both are important, but the pressure to join STEM careers sometimes neglects the vast aspects of art. Art and STEM is the balance between two types of learning. Both give you an outlet to create something new, thus expressing yourself in a way. I use science in my art. Balancing chemicals to make resin products, melting wax at just the right temperature, using the right ratio of fragrance oils, etc. Art and STEM are two polar opposites that are necessary to build something new. You need to master the right balance between them. Art and STEM can inspire others. They can make physical products to be shared to the world. Art teaches a lesson. The lesson could help promote advances in STEM. They can give out blueprints to life saving products. My favorite example is of the blueprints and rough drafts of products. Architects use their drawing skills to plan out a building. I love that is shows how engineering can be creative. You have to use your mind to come up with unique ideas, which is where art comes into play. I see STEM as the more structured and formal side of it. Art brings in the creativity to make something of your own. I believe anytime you create, whenever you make something of your own, that is both art and STEM. I grew up with two parents who never finished college. They always were against it, especially my mother. She works to help people get approved for loans. Her clients tend to be struggling because of student debt. Her pressure to avoid college comes from a good place. She does not want debt to inhibit my future. This causes me to butt heads with my family. I am passionate about education and am determined to get my degree in psychology. Even though I will have to do it on my own, I will gladly get the education I need to improve the world. I am pursuing further education because of the career I desire. I want to become a therapist to help others the same way that I have been supported. I have seen my parents make good money without degrees, I have also watched my mother almost lose our house during a low market season. I know a degree does not guarantee success, but I hope it will land me a job with a stable income. I want to know what paycheck to expect next month. I love to help others. I wish to have spare money to donate. My determination to keep my income stable will make me invest with my excess money. I am also a free spirit who will most likely have a Chuck E Cheese fund. Life has to be lived loosely and in a childish way too. Alas, I will still work hard and spend many hours with my clients. This will ensure that I provide for my family. I can build a home of my own, one that thrives in chaos. College is a way for me to grow. It is an escape from my old life and also start anew with my independence.

The pitter-patter of stubby feet reach my door. I am barely awake when my toddler opens the door, letting in the full volume of my teenagers' argument over who gets the first pop-tart. I scoff at them and pull my youngest child up to my lap. We both lay down on MY bed, in MY house. A house I spent years saving up for so that I can own. Filled with customizations to fit my special family (we aren't basic like the neighbors). I have hidden rooms and hallways built. The walls are covered in art from me and my children. I work as a private psychologist. My income has made me stable enough to be a foster parent. My degree and career also help me to care for my children. I spend hours helping those who struggle with mental illness. Managing my own mental struggles qualifies me. My life is finally put together. My published books earn a little extra income. My dream of becoming a writer has come true. I set aside free-time between work and entertaining the little gremlins I love so deeply. This is my writing time. I am able to get lost in my fantasy worlds. I did it, I managed to have it all.

If the universe were to have two emotionally unstable, broke, college dropouts procreate then you would have me. Add the humor of a prepubescent boy for a bit of flavor. To spice things up, add the stubbornness of a mule. Don’t forget the pestering questions of a child determined to interrupt their parents work, for I am oblivious and curious. To accurately make a replica of me, it has to constantly need explanations. It will see the world full of wonder and possibilities. Now make it stupid enough to get into arguments it clearly cannot win, and you have me.

“Be the kind of person you needed when you were younger” -Ayesha Siddiqi. When I was a child, I was often judged. Whether by my parents or fellow schoolmates, my behavior was deemed strange. Others would try to change or fix me. But I just wanted to enjoy my life. My mind works difficulty and I should not be punished for existing. What I needed was someone with an open mind. If someone looked at me with a blank slate instead of future expectations to fulfill I would not have felt like such an outcast. I am an awkward person, but still had so much to give. Nothing I did was harmful. I just did not enjoy traditional activities. Now I try to give others what I needed. My open mindedness is a quality I worked hard on. I had to deconstruct the views I was raised to have for other people. It requires catching myself in the moment to fix any rude thoughts. I am proud of this skill. I want to make others comfortable around me. It is important for me to make them feel safe to share what they love. Anime? Tell me all about the plot and your favorite characters. A strange hobby? Good on you for pursuing your passions. Maybe you can teach me too. Humans are diverse. The connection is important but we should also embrace our differences. I go out of my way to listen and learn. Now I know I will never hurt others in the ways that I have been hurt. Not dismissing others based on assumptions opens new opportunities for me. I can build more relationships with others. This will help both my personal and professional life. I will gain my coworkers respect and help move up in my field. Additionally, I might discover a new skill from someone that will aid my career. This also makes it easier to gain new friends. I need to be social and have a connection with people. This skill will be useful to upkeep my mental health. My lack of judgment also works for parenting. I wish to become a foster parent. I will take in a wide range of kids with different experiences. Not having judgement or a predestined plan makes me able to live them unconditionally. I will make the world a better place by practicing open mindedness. Maybe even find a kid who is just like I was and make them feel safe and supported.

Authors not only entertain, they can bring awareness and make their readers feel less alone. I struggle with issues with my family at home. My Mythology teacher assigned a book that related to the mind games at home: Educated by Tara Westover. The book also helped encourage me to pursue further education. She overcame all of her obstacles, so can I. That inspiration is what lead me to sign up on Bold.org. Her book showed the progress of trauma. More so, the healing process. The plot has her slowly unravel the truth of her family. She gets over her denial to finally come to terms with the pain they caused her. I needed to see this. As I have grown, the issues within my household have become more apparent: the absent drug-using father and the emotionally abusive mother. Her story made me feel less alone. I will never fully understand Westover because her pain is so much deeper than mine, but it still aides me. I used to be so close with my mother. Now I’m hindsight, I see all the insecurities she caused. I went through the same steps as Westover. It was a relief to see I was not alone. Her book, her story, it gave me a voice. She found her escape. That inspires me to keep going. I know my future will get better. She found love and an education. Westover was able to escape her toxic household. This makes me feel less hopeless. Her book spoke to me. I know I can build a better life for myself someday, just like her.

Any typical person would be unnerved seeing someone talking to themself and pacing around the room. Now I pride myself on being progressive, but I admit I was judgmental to someone exhibiting delusional behavior. The setting of a mental hospital may excuse some of my thoughts, as the people in there were in risk of harm to oneself or others. I labeled that boy as dangerous and made a conscious decision to try and avoid him. He never did anything to justify my assumptions made within minutes. I am slightly ashamed of that because I always tried to be a mental health advocate in the past. I spent time listening to stories on why that very same judgement has hurt people. Yet I still fell for the societal conditioning to reject those you do not understand. I saw him as delusional and dangerous when I made no effort to get to know him. Unexpectedly, he walked up to where I was sitting, and introduced himself in coherent sentences. His apology for any behavior that might unsettle me pained my heart. He explained his current mental illnesses that made him act that way. I was not owed an explanation though. A person should not be required to fix any wrong assumptions I made. Yet he did. We then joked together just like any other pair of teenagers. I found he was a sweet person. He was shy, loved playing video games and was easy to carry a conversation with. He was not someone to be afraid of. I broke out of a trance I was not ever aware of. There is no difference between “dangerous” acting people and myself. A “normal” looking person could always be just as dangerous to others. Someone else’s struggles should not strip them of their humanity.

The Holocaust was one of the most devasting events in history. Hitler spread so much hate with his propaganda. The most unspeakable forms of torture were done within his concentration camps. Many people failed to act in time to prevent this suffering. Irena Sendler did not freeze when caught in the middle of this devasty. This Polish woman started an underground ring to hide Jewish children from the Nazis. She saved over 2,500 children. Irena Sendler is an inspiring hero. I aspire to be like her. She did not accept the world she lived in. Even when powerless, she never gave up. I sometimes fear that I will fail when my moment comes. I will live in fear instead of standing up for what I believe in. It is easier to ignore what goes on in the world around us and just focus on your day-to-day life. She was smart, able to hide a list under a tree so the children can later be reunited with family. Sendler found loopholes in the system to deliver Jewish families the resources they needed. I hope to find the determination in me to never give up and always find another way. I will find a better way in every scenario of my life. I wish to have her persistence and passion. Her strength amazes me. She figured out how to organize a resistance on her own. She used her strengths to fight back against Nazis. I often feel like I have no useful way to help others. Instead of giving up, Sendler was creative and used her resources from her social work career to give children fake identities to protect them. She never gave in, even after being captured and tortured. We should all work to be a little more like her.

Mistakes should not define your whole life. Children acting out are often failed, the adults meant to protective them simply give up. Adolescent offenders are seen as problem children and locked away. But the issues stemming the behavior are never addressed. Los Angeles county has moved toward a more rehabilitative model. This includes the Teen Court program. Santa Clarita Valley Teen Court has juvenile cases be heard by a court of fellow high school students. Studies have proven the effectiveness of this method with lower recurring offenses. This program is used as intervention. I was eager to join as I am drawn to the justice system and progressive ideas to lower crime rates. The complicated generational cycle of crime is difficult to overcome. My ideas are to take down crime through the roots: poverty, poor education, and lack of resources. But there still leaves current criminals to handle. I jumped at an opportunity to witness the courts in action. I was even honored to be one of the few selected as a juror. This helps the troubled youth of my community. It gives them representative peers to accurately determine a verdict. Most sentencing involves community service which will further aid the community. I give these local teens someone who will listen. They have a chance to be questioned and reflect on their past choices. I do my part to reduce crime in my community.

Loans are not meant to help you. Banks are businesses that use loans to make money. That’s actually the banks main source of profits, around 1.7 billion. Student loans are the only way most people can afford college. This leaves them in debt once they graduate. While the bills are not expected to be paid until after school is done, interest will still start racking up for unsubsidized loans. Some lucky few do not have these types of loans but still need to repay them off with interest starting after the grace period. I was given great advice from my personal finance teacher. High school students are told little on how loans work, only ingrained to accept that they need it. I had no clue how the billing worked which is why I am grateful my school offers this class. Her advice came during a presentation to the class: you can start making payments early. She explained that you can send money to your lender while in school. Any amount will be accepted and help reduce the burden. I had no idea early payments were an option. I thought making above minimum after receiving the monthly bill was the best one could do. I will use this advice whenever I have extra cash during my college years. It may not be a lot, but it could end up saving me thousands.

We may soon create a world quite similar to the Lorax animated movie. Living with no clean air on demolished land, that is what we are heading towards. Greed has led companies to tear up our ground nonstop. There is a housing crisis currently. The issue is more on affordability than supply. There is a shortage of shelter the average income can afford. We are destroying our ecosystems and environment, we need more plants. Stacking houses is the solution. The floors would be sold and run just like condo properties. I will use my excess income to add more floors and refurbish instead of allowing others to take over new acres to build on. It should be cheaper and more accessible to currency economies and local jobs. Growing up in poverty worsens mental conditions. Providing affordable housing will be a goal of mine. Adding extra stories to existing homes will help condense the population into cities. This removes the need to expand further into wildlife territory. It can also give lower income families access to better jobs and commuting. This impact can solve the housing issue as well. Inflation has made the market a nightmare. Being given shelter would help people to build wealth. They then can spend more money into the local economy. Having a basic necessity provided will lower the chance of a person resorting to crime. The homes also being located in higher class areas lowers the influence from gang members and the sort. This will lower crime rates while also giving new generations a chance to prosper. Children growing up in these additional floors will also have better access to education.

The last thing you should be told when looking for help is "no". I have lost trust in the doctors who are meant to aid me. I was told that I did not show signs of mental illness, that I was just acting out as a way to receive attention. Therapists ignored me and told my parents I did not need to see a psychologist. My own parents would gaslight me when I tried to ask for help. It was only when I was at my worst point, having to be committed, that I was finally taken seriously. A person should never get to that point after already seeing several licensed therapists for help. Many people struggling are dismissed as attention seekers. The way to help them is to shut up and listen. Facing denial makes people with mental illnesses feel isolated. Being supportive now can prevent trauma that would stop them from seeking help in the future. First, you let them speak. Then, you ask what they need. You should never interrupt them, especially not with your opinion on how bad their struggles actually are. If you are not knowledgeable on their symptoms, look it up. Research and educate yourself. Do not assume you know more than the person actually living with the illness or condition. We must recognize the bias within the mental health community and give those failed before a chance.

There are still flaws within our progressing healthcare system. Mental health services have come a long way but still leave many patients suffering. My issues were dismissed as attention seeking. I was gaslit after seeking help. I had to fight to finally be diagnosed and treated for depression and anxiety. There is a chance that I am also autistic but I am fearful to pursue a diagnosis after my past experiences with the mental health system. I want to become a therapist so there is at least one other person who can recognize the signs. My patients will never feel invalidated. Psychology has always interested me. I am a curious person and love to learn how the human mind works. The explanations for why trauma forms and the connections related to mental illness amaze me. I want to learn tools to help others. A career in psychology will give me a chance to help others in the ways I have been helped, while also doing better in the ways that others have failed. I am interested in societal behavior as well. I find it important to understand how groups can be influenced. This helps people catch themselves doing subconscious acts. I would like to learn how to keep myself an individual and prevent bias. I love learning how the human mind works as it can be applied to better yourself and others. My mental illnesses will not stop me from living a fulfilling life. Depressive episodes can make it a struggle to show up to my shifts. I usually set an alarm 30 minutes beforehand so I have time to mentally prepare. I will get comfortable in a blanket while eating snacks. Panic attacks also distract me but I have learned breathing exercises along with other coping mechanisms. Despite the obstacles, I make it through all my shifts at the movie theater. I keep a cheerful spirit with my coworkers and customers. People can sense this attitude and often give it back. The friendliness of others helps me hold on during the hours. Similarly, on my low days I battle finishing schoolwork. My value of education helps me keep my focus. I remind myself of the importance of stimulating my mind to open up new neural pathways. When my anxiety remains too much, I set timers just to make little progress between breaks. This makes me more productive than just sitting in front of a computer with a foggy mind. Managing my mental illness has to be personalized to the situation. If I am stuck outside within a crowd, then I search for a distraction. I look for something comforting like a baby or an animal. Other times, I stim alone to self regulate. I also tend to lay down while doing breathing exercises. One of my favorite methods is blasting music. The consistent noise helps calm me. Additionally, I am marveled by the stories within the lyrics. I can imagine a different world and let myself be taken away. Through my career as a therapist, I will help many grow to function on there own. I will intervene early in the lives of my patients. Having support can make a person develop healthy habits. Listening to my patients will prevent trauma from the mental health system. I will make people comfortable speaking out and demanding health. I will study and educate myself on the smaller and lesser known illnesses so that no patient is misdiagnosed.

It is up to all of humanity to solve the worldwide problems affecting all of the population. Committing your time to combat global warming gives you a future to look forward to. It would be worth your time to invest in environmentally friendly ideas. You should promote carbon neutrality within your partner companies. One of the most important problems you need to deal with is the housing crisis and deforestation. Using new land to develop more buildings is destroying habitats. It would be better to build more stories on pre-existing buildings. Doing this will add more value to the existing property in the long run. People will support companies using this method if they are open about the reasoning behind it. More of the new generation has grown up being warned about climate change. There is also a massive rise in housing prices which causes fresh adults to worry. Making homes above already established buildings will help grow the local economy. Businesses boom when there is a larger population to provide labor. Focusing on developing on already existing towns will keep natural ecosystems safe. This method will stop the cycle of damaging the fragile network of nature. We need local wildlife to keep our air clean and provide biodiversity. Another problem caused by our rapidly growing population is hunger and the dumping issue. The world is wasting too much food when there are millions starving. In fact, 9.9% of the world population is starving. Companies throw out so much usable food. That wasted food then does not decompose properly in landfills and can actually cause air pollutants. The solution ties both problems together. There should be a change made to collect that food and take it to the homeless. Or, even if companies just stored the food, then volunteers could take it to local shelters. I have the idea of one day establishing a DoorDash system but with the excess food and drop offs at shelters. This drop off system can be run by volunteers who may or may not need community service hours and also donations from generous sponsors. Saving that food will reduce air pollutants. Landfills will also have more space. The people fed through this program will now have the energy to go and serve society. This could get government approval to become a tax write off. Furthermore, hungry people become desperate enough to resort to crime. It is easier to reject shady offers when your stomach is full. Lower crime increases the value of local buildings. The safer communities can also promote education without interruptions. Well educated students will create the brightest future. Giving food will have companies gain rewards. You can also work with the POINT Foundation to get businesses to use their biofuels. These biofuels lower the amount of fossil fuels used in gas powered machines. This will lower the amount of air pollution companies make. Alternating what is used now will make the transition easier. Demand for action on climate change is becoming popular. As new methods are being discovered, it is likely that Congress will pass more laws to regulate the use of pollutagens. Getting ahead of the game on future changes will save you the headache. Also, starting now gives you room for trial and error. That is a perfect opportunity to find what methods best work for each company personally.

I often fantasize about the future as a way to cope with current situations. Knowing all the possibilities I have motivates me to stay passionate. Ever since I was a young child, one of my main goals was to be a parent. I want to build a family through fostering in the future. I constantly check fostering websites to stay up to date with the requirements. Meeting the needs of foster parenting is what drives me to keep working hard and find a stable income. A personal dream of mine though is to become a published writer. I have been typing up stories since 3rd grade. I have spent hours writing and even more time looking up tips to improve my skills. Being an author is not an option. I will never stop until my work hits bookshelves. Recently, I have seen society fail to help provide for the citizens suffering. I want to start up non profits to help. I have ideas to help eliminate food waste and feed the homeless. I also want to buy an apartment building and provide free housing. Waiting for someone else to make the change you want to see will lead to nothing done. This encourages me to save up so I can afford to provide for others.

I remember once being told a Bible story: Jesus was collecting donations and praised a poor woman for giving what little she had over the wealthy that overall gave more, but was only a sliver of their fortune. Generosity is not what you do, it is the thought and effort made. A modern summary of the Bible story is that you’re only penny means more than one of your many dollars. Giving your all is what matters. For me, being generous means going out of your way to help others. I say hi to any of my old classmates whenever I pass them in the halls. I make people feel seen by waving at them. I ask my classmates how their weekend was to see them light up while sharing. I give what I needed when I was in a depressive episode freshman year. It just takes a little time to give others a reason to keep going. I know that simple acts like a hug can completely change a difficult day. Generosity is the act of sacrifice. Whether time or money, it is about giving to others. You can be generous by dedicating your time to loved ones. I spend hours working on handmade gifts for example. Or will make time in my day to sit down and listen to my friends. I will give anything to make them feel cared for. It is not hard to be generous. It costs no money and can be as simple as a smile. Generosity is an active part of life.

English is my favorite class. The elementary school creative writing assignments made me fall in love. Now I am passionate about writing in my free time. I used to spend hours on the computer after school typing up stories. My mom got tired of me stealing her computer and bought me my first one because of this. I love getting carried away by my stories. Writing was my first true hobby. In middle school, I discovered my love of drawing. I spent entire summers watching tutorials on YouTube so I could improve my skills. I use my drawings as a way to silently let out the emotions I have kept inside. Drawing also brought me closer to my mom. She was an artist in high school and used to dream of finding a career in it. Every time I make new art, I remember how proud she looked when I showed her my progress as a child. My hobbies are creation. I love to make something new. I mostly do art, but have tried other methods like gardening. One of my newest hobbies is candle making. I love learning something new. I hope to discover many new hobbies that will connect me to the world.

Punishment vs rehabilitation is the modern debate on the criminal justice system. Los Angeles county has moved toward a more rehabilitative model. This includes the Teen Court program. Teen Court has juvenile cases be heard by a court of fellow high school students. Studies have proven the effectiveness of this method with lower recurring offenses. I was eager to join as I am drawn to the justice system and progressive ideas to lower crime rates. The complicated generational cycle of crime is difficult to overcome. My ideas are to take down crime through the roots: poverty, poor education, and lack of resources. But there still leaves current criminals to handle. I jumped at an opportunity to witness the courts in action. I was even honored to be one of the few selected as a juror. This experience showed me the importance of jury duty. Not only as service to your community but to help yourself grow. Most people scramble for any way to get out of jury duty. But you get to understand why people commit the crimes if you go. The courts cannot run without our jurors. They are essential to upholding democracy and ensuring a fair trial. By being present you serve as an intervention to wake up the defendants, something I never considered a part of the process before. Most of the kids there were just making stupid and impulsive mistakes, believing it was harmless. The time in court was spent explaining the laws, why it was wrong, and who was affected by their actions. I learned that while in court we provide an outside perspective to call out bad patterns the defendant would not have noticed. Like the young boy with anger issues who was being bullied, we sentenced him to counseling. Sometimes the court workers are the first to notice anything wrong with the behavior and stop juveniles before they grow into troubled adults. I will now eagerly attend all jury summonings when I become an adult. I will make sure to gently pressure my friends to do the same. This also showed me what the court is supposed to do. It is about helping, not ruining people’s lives. So, I will advocate for more second chances after time served. Once sentences are done the person is supposed to restart in society, but we deny them jobs and sometimes homes. I will do my best to change that, whether through voting or personally providing those opportunities. For now though, I will continue to go back and serve Teen Court.

I relax by focusing on me. Not by being productive or meeting society's expectations. I take time to find enjoyment in little moments. Like the first sip of hot chocolate or going outside to feel the wind. I express myself through creation. I make candles in my free time. I also draw sketched of people. When I feel energized enough, I will write stories. I love to make something new. The process of building a new project helps me escape the world. I listen to my music in my room to relax. I lay down and let the lyrics take me away. I have special songs that relax my heart. My favorite method is meditating. It is part of my spiritual practice. This helps ground me. Meditation also makes me feel more connected with the world. It makes me feel satisfied with my current situation. It also helps soothe my anxiety

Nothing is better than sharing your wildest fantasies with someone and then having them hype you up. My family tends to discourage me from my dreams. I keep moving forward despite that and uplift others with me. I encourage people by listening to them. I make them comfortable to share their thoughts and dreams. I tell others to follow their passions and take risks. We are told to follow the stable career and settle. I remind people that there is more to the world than simply surviving. Sometimes all you need to hear is that there is another option. I tell others that I believe in them. Most dreamers get told that it is impossible. They get warned about the chance of disappointment. But there is always that slight chance of success. I always push the ones I love to take that chance. After all, somebody has to win it. The most encouraging of all though, is to stay in people’s lives by their side throughout the entire process. I will stand by and watch as their dreams go. I will listen to all the obstacles of the process. It is encouraging to know the support given is not conditional on perfect results.

I was bullied while having my parents constantly fight at home. I know what it’s like to need a break. No one knew what was going on with me, but I could have used some kindness from them. I make sure to be patient with others. No matter how horrible they act, I take a step back to try and see what’s going on from their perspective. That little extra time to think could have helped people see that I was struggling with problems at home. I also never judge others. I act in ways people find strange due to my mental illness and past experiences. Some people have trouble in social situations but that does not mean they are bad. Having an open mind is important. Most importantly, I process my emotions before reacting. There have been several times when I was hurt by someone I trusted but reacted maturely. Processing my emotions made me calm enough to listen to the other side and not lash out. Sometimes we get caught up in our anger and unintentionally hurt others.

The main way to support equality is to listen to minorities. Often, allies end up speaking over their actual experiences. So, I actively look for new perspectives from marginalized groups. There are many nonprofits dedicated to supporting equal opportunities and diversity. The main way we are told to help is to fund said groups. I donate to these organizations whenever I can. Without donations those advocates would cease their lobbying. Many of the organizations partake in lawsuits against discriminatory companies. They need every penny they can get to fund these lengthy causes. Many minorities share ways people unknowingly discriminate against them. Implicit bias is in all of us. I listen to ways to stop my internalized prejudice and grow as a person. I often stop to question the way I am thinking. This is important to correct my own discriminatory behavior. Finally, I sign petitions and advocate for better treatment. If enough people use their voice then change has to be made. Every click counts. By joining the causes I am helping in every little way I can.

I hope to make change in this world through my career. Unlike the traditional career path, I will not settle for just one dream job. I plan to become a licensed therapist. I dream of helping others the way that I have been helped. I’m a passionate mental health advocate. Listening is one of my skills. There is a current mental health crisis and I am going to help solve it. I am going to be a published author. I am in love with writing. My creative spirit makes me create various stories. I have been writing since elementary school. I want to inspire others to make change in the world through my words. This is my dream. I will never give up on it. This goal is far fetched, but I want to buy some buildings and start a non profit. My career goal includes giving affordable shelter and providing food to the homeless. My goal is to leave an impact on this world through my work. I hope to be remembered as someone who made change for others.

Growing up with a big family, I thrive in chaos. My study habits have adapted to my busy household. I need to plan out ahead of time to reach academic success. I schedule specific times to sit down and get my work done. I cannot focus otherwise. Actively telling myself it is time for homework makes me able to tune out all the outside distractions. Without these measures, I get caught up on every conversation. Each noise, no matter how minuscule, gets picked up by my ears. For the most efficient studying, I have to set the mood. I need loud music blasting in my ears. My noise cancelling headphones drown out my family. The noise level is not what keeps me focused. I just need constant and consistent sound. The many changes that happen in my household are what prevent me from getting work done. I also need light. I prefer natural light but I will take what I can get. Warmth is essential for studying. I will either have many blankets on or wrap in a blanket. Being cold makes me tired and unable to concentrate. My study habits are unusual. They fit me as I am not a regular person. Your study habits must be accustomed to you.

Before I was diagnosed, I could barely make it through the day. Looking back I cannot comprehend how I survived on my own. Panic attacks lead me to break down and cry in front of my classroom for no apparent reason. I would also close myself off from people and not be able to focus in class when I was unknowingly in a depressive episode. Freshman year of high school was a non stop period of depression and anxiety. I would get panic attacks everyday in my math class. I would miss the entire lesson only to reteach myself at home to catch up. Surprisingly, I was still at the same pace as my peers and managed to get an A in the class. But I was also completely shut down, not making any new friends nor allowing my old friends in. I never engaged with anyone, instead hid in the bathroom between classes. To get by on my own, I adapted to the constant struggle. I would blast music during my panic attacks soI could complete my essays. I pushed myself to keep my grades up even when I felt like nothing mattered. I told myself I needed a good report card to make my family proud. It was not the best coping method, but it was the best I could do to keep myself functioning. Now I have opened myself up. I made friends who supported me at any low points. Therapy has taught me coping skills to manage my mental health (which was crucial during lockdown). Breathing exercises and other coping mechanisms keep me grounded. I still have my bad days, but I know what to expect. I am at peace knowing the emotions will pass.

I plan to be a foster parent in the future. I am going to get a stable job so I can provide for my future family. I will pass the foster-parent application. Success is being happy and building the life you dream of. I will be happy making my family. I plan to own a business and buy properties. I will be saving up and investing money as soon as I turn 18. Once I make a decent amount, I will go and search for ways to expand my wealth. Success is going out of your comfort zone. My last main goal for the future is to travel throughout the world. I will rack up airline points and also save up. I will budget wisely and find travel deals online. This will be successful because life is about living. There's more to existing than collecting money. I will focus on my happiness and gaining new experiences which is what I truly want in life.

To live with gratitude means being conscious of one's surroundings. It requires being aware of all feelings in the present moment. I spend time appreciating the little moments. I admire how the sun feels on my skin and appreciate the warmth. Taking time to admire nature, whether the colors surrounding me or the playful weather, is part of my gratitude practice. I appreciate my friends. I make sure to remind them how much they mean to me at random moments. It is important to share how you feel and check up on the ones you love. I spend time making them feel loved, whether through gifts or just listening to them. Having them there to support me means the world and remembering that warms my heart. I also make sure to be grateful for the food I have. I try not to waste food and only eat when I am genuinely hungry. To show my gratitude, I slowly eat my meals and focus on the flavor. This helps me live a fulfilled and joyful life.

I have always lived with a creative spirit. I have been writing stories since elementary school. I love coming up with fantasy worlds and making characters overcome metaphorical challenges. I can come up with elaborate details to different situations I come up with. I use this to keep me passionate and determined to move forward. For my life outside of books, I come up with unique adventures to go on with friends. We have silly-string battles and make PowerPoint battles over our favorite tv shows. This keeps life fun. I refuse to let myself just live a boring and ordinary life. It is important to be silly and random. With my creative mind, I brainstorm out of the box ideas to fix current problems. I tend to what to make bold changes and take risks to improve society. I try to figure out what the individual can do to lower pollution and poverty. If we don’t have unique ideas, we will just keep trying to fix problems with our old failures. I draw in my sketchbook to release stress. I make candles just for fun and might sell them occasionally when I have free time. It’s important to have activities in your life that are just for you, just a moment to express yourself.

My girlfriend gives me hope for the future. She is the kind of person I wish humanity was like. She genuinely cares about other’s well being and is willing to make sacrifices to ensure it. She is gentle with those who have less value, as deemed by society, than her. My little sisters adore her because she patiently listens to their babbled stories. She makes me enjoy being myself instead of holding back parts of me in shame. Our current society is filled with selfishness. Seeing people purposely hurt others for their own enjoyment made me lose hope. The crumbling weight of climate change and other passed down generational problems makes me want to give up. Sometimes I feel like no one cares about the world and we will just continue to destroy until there is nothing left. That hopelessness is not the truth though. My girlfriend gives me hope that I will find happiness and peace. Together we will work hard to get what we need. We will build the future of our dreams. She also reminds me that there are others out there like me. That there are people advocating for change. I know that I am not alone. My girlfriend inspires me to raise my voice. She is loud and opinionated. I will work to make sure my thoughts on the world are heard. She gives me hope that I will have support throughout my life. Even if I lose her, she proves that you can find people out there who restore your faith in humanity. She makes me feel like action can be done. That I actually have some power to make change in this depressing world. Even just one person at a time, I will help heal this broken society. Small acts like recycling and thrifting will add up over time. I can reduce the amount of waste and litter polluting nature. I know feel like I can make a difference.

Being a leader means practicing what you preach. You cannot expect any change to be made by only yelling. Leaders lead by example. One of the movements I advocate for is reformation of the criminal justice system. Los Angeles county has moved toward a more rehabilitative model. This includes the Teen Court program. Teen Court has juvenile cases be heard by a court of fellow high school students. Studies have proven the effectiveness of this method with lower recurring offenses. I was eager to join as I am drawn to the justice system and progressive ideas to lower crime rates. The complicated generational cycle of crime is difficult to overcome. My ideas are to take down crime through the roots: poverty, poor education, and lack of resources. But there still leaves current criminals to handle. I jumped at an opportunity to witness the courts in action. I was even honored to be one of the few selected as a juror. This experience showed me the importance of jury duty. Not only as service to your community but to help yourself grow. Most people scramble for any way to get out of jury duty. But you get to understand why people commit the crimes if you go. The courts cannot run without our jurors. They are essential to upholding democracy and ensuring a fair trial. By being present you serve as an intervention to wake up the defendants, something I never considered a part of the process before. Most of the kids there were just making stupid and impulsive mistakes, believing it was harmless. The time in court was spent explaining the laws, why it was wrong, and who was affected by their actions. I learned that while in court we provide an outside perspective to call out bad patterns the defendant would not have noticed. Like the young boy with anger issues who was being bullied, we sentenced him to counseling. Sometimes the court workers are the first to notice anything wrong with the behavior and stop juveniles before they grow into troubled adults. I will now eagerly attend all jury summonings when I become an adult. I will make sure to gently pressure my friends to do the same. This also showed me what the court is supposed to do. It is about helping, not ruining people’s lives. So, I will advocate for more second chances after time served. Once sentences are done the person is supposed to restart in society, but we deny them jobs and sometimes homes. I will do my best to change that, whether through voting or personally providing those opportunities. For now though, I will continue to go back and serve Teen Court.

I practice bravery by living as my authentic self. I live outside the gender binary and refuse to conform to societal norms. I identify as non-binary and am a gay individual. I live boldly by being me. I dress how I want and will not let the anger of others stop me. I proudly embrace my girlfriend when we are out on dates. I am brave by taking risks in life. My anxiety makes me nervous to do many things, but I push myself anyway. I took a risk applying to expensive colleges far from home. I'm glad to give myself that independence and be confident that I can handle life on my own. I took a risk asking out my current girlfriend at the movie theater the first time I saw her. I also was brave when applying to my first job. It was a major responsibility and commitment. I was terrified as I did not have a car to drive to work with. That experience payed off with $1,000 in savings and I now meet qualifications for other jobs. Being brave is taking time to dedicate to yourself. You have to be brave to not let others control you. It is bold to fight the inner insecurities holding you back.

Our country is in a mental health crisis. Everyday more people reach out for help in an overwhelmed system. I am among that group. My anxiety can leave me incapacitated. The rare occurance of a depressive episode makes daily functions almost impossible. Now, I do not wish to imply that I am any lesser than another person. As awful as it can be at times, I have learned how to manage after living with it daily (plus a few years of therapy). Before I was diagnosed, I could barely make it through the day. Looking back I cannot comprehend how I survived on my own. I started getting a few panic attacks here and there in middle school. It's even worse when you do not understand what is happening to you. Panic attacks feel like you’re breathing in a room without oxygen. You can feel your lungs moving as the air flows through your throat, but still seem to be suffocating. Those sometimes lead me to break down and cry in front of my classroom for no apparent reason. I would also close myself off from people and not be able to focus in class when I was unknowingly in a depressive episode. Freshman year of high school was a non stop period of depression and anxiety. I would get panic attacks everyday in my math class, lasting the entire class. I would miss the entire lesson only to reteach myself at home to catch up. Surprisingly, I was still at the same pace as my peers and managed to get an A in the class. But I was also completely shut down, not making any new friends nor allowing my old friends in. I never engaged with anyone. I would hide in the bathroom during the breaks until my next class. Now I have opened myself up. I made friends who mean the world to me, and support me at any low points. Therapy has taught me coping skills to manage my mental health (which was crucial during lockdown). I still have my bad days, but I know what to expect. I am at peace knowing the emotions will pass. For the future, I will use this found strength to persevere past any obstacles. I will have to manage stress while in college. My past struggles have taught me how to identify my emotions and not let them take over me. I will push myself to wait out the hard periods. My drive to succeed will lead me to finish school. I will be able to juggle multiple traumatic events while handling school. Life will still go on while I am studying, now I have the skills to take charge of my future.

Nature is a part of our Earth and our life. It gives me a feeling of connection when I am the most lonely. I find peace when surrounded by life. Nature is my escape from the stressful world I live in. I love how much nature supports humanity. It is essential for staying alive. The nature around us makes us all able to breathe. It also soothes my anxiety. I used to spend hours staring out the car window, looking for any green. I would focus on the plants outside to drown out my parents fighting. I also have a connection with nature spiritually with my personal religious practice. I appreciate nature by cleaning up litter at parks. I make sure to recycle as much as I can to lower pollution. I fight against harmful policies that hurt our wildlife. I wash my car in the rain with environmentally friendly soap so the run off does not kill off local plants. When walking in nature, I try my best to be as gentle as possible and not step on any of the plants. I speak to the plants to help them grow. I ask permission before picking flowers due to my spiritual practice of respecting plant life. I appreciate nature by defending and befriending it.

I speak my mind because I have to. There are others out there too afraid to use their voice. There are those who need to hear what I have to say to be inspired. With that comes a greater responsibility, standing up to those who oppose me and still speaking my mind. We need debates and disagreements to find a way to take action. So, we must face those uncomfortable discussions. I stay committed knowing that speaking my mind makes change. I have to speak up or else my mom will win, forever gaslighting me into silence. I have to speak up because I now know my voice matters. I will no longer be a pushover. My thoughts are just as valuable as any other. We can learn from any person, no matter how different the morals. So, I will speak up to help others learn and grow. I will speak up to make change. My passion to make the world better will drive me out of my silence.

I wish to learn new languages. So far, I've studied Spanish for three years. My goal is to become fluent. I also want to learn Romanian and Sign Language. I wish to go on a road trip with my friends. I want that freeing feeling of independence. I am currently saving up for any expenses a road trip might accumulate. But I know one careless and impulsive decision would help me so much. I also want to foster children when I am an adult. I'm working hard to get a good education so I will have a stable job. I am educating myself on the issues in the foster system and listening to the stories of those who have aged out. I have read through all articles on the requirements to foster in California so I will be prepared. I have succeeded in my goal of falling in love. I worked hard on learning to be vulnerable and put myself out there. I had to risk getting hurt again after being cheated on. I will forever be grateful that I gave my heart a chance. I was able to manage work and school. I used to be so worried my grades would slip but I needed to start saving money. The semester ending with all A's and B's. I made schedules on when I would study and do homework. I am proud of myself for taking on another responsibility.

I believe the meaning of life is to find happiness. You have to find happiness in all the little moments. The feeling of sunlight gliding across your skin, for example, is a moment you have to be mindful of and cherish. Sometimes you have to let yourself be free and do socially unacceptable acts. I jump in puddles when it is raining because the joy is worth being soaked. I play rock-paper-scissors with my girlfriend during awkward moments when we are both scared to make the first move in a kiss. Being silly is part of being happy. Just because a moment does not seem special to others does not mean you cannot make it magical. To find happiness you must also take care of yourself. Spend time alone and take breaks from stressful life. Actively choosing to spend time doing something, specifically because you want to take care of yourself, can fill you with so much joy. Life is about more than impressing others. Each person has to take time to do what you need. That happiness can also be found in moments you dedicate to others. Whether the selfless act in your lifetime or just giving up a few minutes to listen, you will find inner peace and therefore fulfill your life. Life is about enjoying your time. I spend everyday trying to be more connected with those special few opportunities, then create many more of my own.

No one feels loved if they are not seen. I go out to my friends performances to watch them and honor their hard work. I watch my sisters practice their hobbies so they know someone is proud of them. I show my loved ones old pictures I find to show them their importance in my life. No one feels loved if they are not heard. I go out of my way to make sure the voices of my loved ones are heard. Whenever they speak to me, I actively listen. Giving someone your full attention makes them feel loved. No one feels loved if they are not remembered. I hold on to every little detail I discover about my loved ones. I buy gifts that remind me of them or make things similar to what they mentioned they like. I make sure my loved ones feel special on their birthday. Everyone wants to feel loved. To make those I care about feel loved, I do the opposite of what makes me feel unloved.