As I was growing up, my childhood wasn't "all cupcakes and rainbows." I always knew I was different and "not normal"; however, at that time, I had no clue what normal was. I just knew I didn't fit society's normalities. In the eyes of my younger self, normal was having divorced parents, living in a one-parent household, breaking up arguments between parents, and struggling to find who I was. My parents got divorced when I was 12, which I never understood. At the time, I had two younger siblings, ages 10 and 2, that weren't used to the single-parent household but the loving family with daily dinners and endless kisses. It wasn't easy breaking the news to them that their "perfect family" was nothing but a memory, but it was something that had to be done... by me. My mother took a break from mothering for a little bit, leaving me as the adult caring for the younger children and ensuring their school work was completed. As time passed, I knew I grew out of my childhood too quickly. If you asked me what my favorite memory was as a child, I wouldn't be able to give you an answer because I never really had one. To make matters worse, thinking nothing else would make my mind work any harder as a 12-year-old, I questioned my sexuality. To answer your question, yes, I knew I was different from the other girls at a very young age, and yes, I was sure. Knowing that both my parents were religious and conservative, I promised to keep my curiosity a secret until I graduated. Little by little, my secret started eating me up inside, which made me feel like a stranger in my own body. Even though I knew my mental and physical health was deteriorating, it was a small price to pay, knowing that my parents still loved me and didn't see me as an outcast or a disappointment. The weight on my shoulders grew and grew, tearing me apart. I had no choice but to confront my parents about who I was and whom I knew I'd become. To this day, I wish my coming out story was as simple as black and white, but in this case, it was nothing but grey areas. Thanks to my father, my mother shunned me for three weeks and left with no one in my corner. My dad never stood up for me, which broke me into pieces, knowing that my father did not think I was worth fighting for. After being told I was confused, I'd be going to hell, and that I was a disappointment, I didn't have the strength anymore to keep myself together. The glue that was holding me together gave way... this was my first relapse. I became depressed and harmed myself to forget the world and my problems. That relapse went on for four years, which lasted from 2017-2021. After learning how crucial mental health was, I started going to therapy to talk about my problems and cope with my trauma. Soon after six months, I was able to come to terms and forgive my parents and myself for hurting me the way they did. My mental health was healthier; I felt better and free. From then on, I saw my relationships and my goals mature quickly. The relationship with my mother has never been better and healthier. I no longer hold any anger towards her; however, I will never forget the pain she caused me. I realized that many individuals don't understand the importance of mental health and how it affects their bodies. Because of this, I am now a mental health advocate for others. I communicate with people and talk about their problems, including finding ways to cope with their traumas. Advocating for mental health is also another reason I want to pursue a career as a pediatric nurse practitioner to help young adolescents with their health and any problems that may arise within their minds.