I grew up with a single mom who had to work multiple jobs so we could make ends meet. I know how much she loves me, but in my youth, it was hard to process that she was stretched too thin trying to meet our basic needs to also meet my emotional needs. Consequently, I spent a lot of my adolescence internalizing her emotional unavailability and trying to make myself as little of a burden as possible. In hindsight, I think I was trying to prove that I was easy to love, despite having a father who didn’t want me and a mother who was fighting to survive. The time I spent with my aunt was a reprieve from that feeling. Her name was Gwen. She was beautiful with supple, bronze skin, bright lipstick, and never a hair out of place. She smelled of vanilla and citrus and that intoxicating scent the grass and stones exude after a fresh rainfall. She was weeknight sleepovers and freshly baked cookies. She was my safe space: warm, loving, and fierce. Before breast cancer claimed her, she was my second mom and now she is my guardian angel. Whenever self-doubts and insecurities snake their way into the forefront of my mind, there is her gentle whisper telling me that I am smart and beautiful and worthy. Her encouragement is a huge part of what has pushed me to step out of my comfort zone and fight for my place in the world. On paper, I am a statistic who wouldn’t dare ask for a challenge— a chronically ill and impoverished minority from a broken home. In reality, I am bigger than this box. Her death was one of many dizzying blows life has dealt. They left lasting damage, but I did not lose myself to them. Instead, I kept close to the lessons my aunt left me. She instilled in me the warmth of southern hospitality— how to give a hug that feels like home. She shared the sacred art of picking one’s battles. Most importantly, she taught me that knowledge is power and that learning gives life meaning. These are the lessons that guided me to graduation just one month ago and to an internship abroad just before that. It was incredibly rewarding to push myself to meet new expectations and experience a new culture. I proposed and participated in projects that I never would have thought I was qualified for, and I excelled. As nerve-wracking as it was to think that I might fail, my aunt’s legacy gave me the confidence to try. Now I can’t wait to start my next adventure. Whatever it is, I know she will be looking down on me, proud of what I have achieved, and excited for all that is to come!