Regardless of the tragedy we experience, or the blame we want to place on others, we still have a choice. I faced hardships growing up, but I chose to cope in detrimental ways. Our lives are a test. Whatever level of spiritual, mental, or physical fulfillment we seek to achieve is solely dependent on the choices we make. I made a choice where pride and perfectionism were two evils that I idolized. My emotional and personal development were things that I sparingly made time for. Not that those areas were not important, but they did not seem to be a hindrance to how I lived. In my earliest years, I only embraced doing all things to the best of my ability. It was a great mantra, but along the way, it shifted to performing to perfection instead. Whether it be a test, golf tournament, social outing, or even my physical appearance, it had to be perfect. I believed I had the capability to always perform at the highest level by doing what others did not. There would always be room for error, and continuing to encounter the inevitability of imperfection left me to dwell on what I could do to become perfect. While I was the girl whose smile “lit up the room,” I never was happy with myself. While everyone else saw my immense potential, I only saw my immense imperfection. I attempted to suppress the thoughts and feelings in an attempt to thrive in my distorted idea self-sufficiency. Friends and loved ones proceeded unsuspectingly of my struggle as I drank before school, before and after practice, attempting to make it through each day. I believed that I could stop whenever I wanted, so because of that, there was no need to stop when I was sure that I had "control" over my drinking habits. I was eventually sent to a wilderness program where no avoidance technique or behavioral mask would survive in such a mentally grueling environment. The way out of that program was the path I had avoided for years. To not mask the emotion. To not script the emotion, and to not expect a perfect emotion. The responsibility of exploring acceptance and imperfection without shortcuts is a journey that I began to take on, exploring it in my own imperfect way. I wouldn’t say that I have achieved my ultimate healing, but I have had a glimpse of what ultimate acceptance looks like. As I am taking the next step to college, people’s paths and success begin to differentiate even more than in high school. Being able to hold myself accountable in the future is key to my academic and mental stability, not to become complacent with the unsatisfactory results, but to allow myself grace and relieve myself from the thieves of happiness. While the road to my radical acceptances and changes will be far from perfect, accepting the imperfect is the best choice I will make not only to sustain my emotional foundation but to solidify that I will never again be subjugated to addiction.

The loss of my mother left a monumental impact on the choices I went on to make in the subsequent years. From the time of her loss until just recently, self-sufficiency became a dependency of mine. I believed that being self-sufficient was managing my emotions on my own. While this holds true, I was far from self-sufficient. I was on a road to self destruction. The unresolved feelings I had for my mom left me susceptible to substance abuse, disordered eating, and child predators. I dove in head first to engage with those behaviors, leading me to a mental/behavioral treatment facility in Utah. The program took place in the wilderness where survival skills and Dialectical Behavioral Therapy (DBT) were acutely enforced. The painful aspect was that there was no avoidance technique or behavioral mask that could get me out of the program. It was a simple yet daunting task. I had to grieve the loss of my mom. There is no step-by-step on how to grieve a loss, and it became that much harder when it became a physical goal I needed to achieve to leave the wilderness. I tried to cry, I tried to reminisce; I could do neither. I decided to let my grief run its course; and while that decision added time to my stay in the wilderness, it was my responsibility to explore what grief would look like without taking shortcuts. I still can’t recall how I came to my healing surrounding my mom, but once I found my healing, there was an overwhelming sense of peace for myself, love for her, and the role she played in my life. While in the wilderness, my mindset transformed from one that dwelled in loss to a mindset that acknowledged all that she had given. This loss set a precedent for the future in how I wish to seek forgiveness and peace; not to align myself with the societal standards of healing, but to feel that my efforts towards healing were enough. When I could hear her name and still smile, talk about her culture and still want to be a part of it; and when I could look at all that she had given me and feel the same amount of love for her that she once had for me. The journey to my ultimate healing has set a precedent for the love I want to feel towards all people. The level of forgiveness that my mother taught me is a gift that I would have gone a lifetime without if the events had unfolded differently. As I embark on this next chapter into college, and eventually my professional career, I will bring the lessons my mother has taught me into the field. Not just forgiveness, but perseverance and acceptance as well. I have gained skills and experiences that some may never incur. While it was at the expense of a loss, I have no doubt that she is watching me as I confidently and fearlessly approach the world with an unwavering spirit of kindness; choosing to devote my efforts to what's most important to me and honoring her in the process.

If I were given $1,000, I would make the choice to invest/grow that money. Yes, I could easily put it towards paying off school debts or increasing a monthly budget, but with time and patience, it will be even more rewarding to see that $1,000 grow by the time I graduate. Now with that $1,000, it wouldn't be wise to put faith into a very risky investment. I wish to minimize the risk and maximize my monetary reward in the current market. I would do so by investing in a few companies that I know are not only stable but will produce a result over the years. I was always taught that using what you have to get where you want to be is the best approach to reaching goals. My goal is to rent out beachfront real estate property eventually. Instead of "wanting to buy a beachfront property by next year", I will "invest my $1,000 dollars to the point where I can eventually purchase a beachfront property". I believe that putting emphasis on what I do have and using that as a springboard for where I want to be will produce realistic and attainable goals while genuinely encouraging me to stick to them. When I see the amount of $1,000, I see the imminent monetary growth; but in the distance, I see the SOLD sign in the front yard of my beachfront property that was only possible because of that $1,000.

I have chosen to pursue dentistry to restore confidence to others similar to how my dentist restored my confidence. A dental career has been of interest to me for around three years. Initially, I wanted nothing to do with the medical field, I was set on working in the sports management industry. If I wasn't going to be a professional athlete, I felt that I needed to be as close as I could to the field. I soon realized that if I wasn't on the field, I wanted nothing to do with the sport. I wanted to have a more direct impact on the people I interacted with. In the midst of what felt like a mid-life crisis during my sophomore year of high school, I was given the biggest blatant sign. Growing up I held on to countless insecurities, letting societal standards take hold of my mindset and guide my actions; but despite the pressure to act or look a certain way, my smile has always been my trademark; something no one could ever make me change because I was genuinely in love with it. During my sophomore year, I had an incident where I fainted and knocked my tooth out. I woke up with my face on the table and the scraps of my tooth staring right back at me. The floodgates opened as my biggest confidence booster was gone. I thought I was going to walk around with a snaggle tooth forever. Upon my trip to the dentist, he assured me that a simple bonding procedure would leave my tooth looking good as new. The result allowed me to regain my confidence and realize that what my dentist was able to do for me is most definitely something that I wish to do for others. Black women specifically are vastly underrepresented in the medical field. I will continue my endeavors to expand the representation in the medical field, not only by example but by contribution as well. I wish for my actions to speak to those that feel they do not have a voice or feel intimated and discouraged by their fears of the unknown. Continuing to diversify the medical field is not an option, but a requirement to ensure the needs and beliefs of all people are not only acknowledged but throroughly understood to provide the best healthcare possible. I will be the primary one funding my college education for both undergraduate and graduate studies. My goal is to best prepare myself so that I will come out of medical school comfortable and not burdened by the expense of my undergraduate and graduate education. I want to start solidly planted on two feet ready to make the biggest impact I can and not worry about my financial circumstance. Within the next ten years, I want to have successfully graduated from medical school, ready to start work in my specialty field (prosthodontics). I want to be ready to work with several patients and would specifically love to spend my time with athletes in need of cosmetic procedures.

My volunteer work with the Troy Beck Golf Academy has been instrumental in providing me with motivation to pursue golf at a collegiate level. I had grown up playing at the Glenn Dale golf club, receiving instruction from the LPGA professional Troy Beck herself. Her spirit and mindset always kept me close to the golf course. Through her academy and summer camps, she helped make the game enjoyable for me and everyone around. I watched some of my older teammates grow up and play collegiate golf and aspired to not only reach that level but to return to the course to give back in any way that I could. As I continued to gain more exposure and play in more golf events, I made it a priority to stay rooted in the place that gave me my jumpstart in the game; so for much of my summers, I spent my time at the golf academy and summer camps, endeavoring to shed light unto the kids in a way that Ms. Troy did for me. It was an honor to not only give instruction to the kids but to hear their reactions when I would hit a pure shot. The “look at how far” or “watch me hit it just as far” comments were priceless affirmations that my hard work and natural talent would pay off in ways that I had not fathomed. Being a young black woman playing the sport, it often turns heads for many reasons. Maybe because people were ready to contribute to the next Tiger Woods, and maybe because some still wanted the sport to remain in its segregated state, but having kids cling to my leg at the end of the day and dragging me back to the range to spectate their amazing upcoming shots were moments that gave me the motivation to pursue the sport regardless of the opinions and standards set in place. Through this experience, I have learned that the affirmations of a trophy would never compare to hearing one of the kids saying how they’re one day going to hit a shot as far as I did. The game is mentally ruthless. It’s you vs. the golf course. You spend hours by yourself, attempting to not bulldoze your self-esteem by the end of a round, while still hoping that your performance was good enough. My time volunteering has not only demonstrated that the game of golf goes beyond the scores posted at the end of a tournament; it has shown me that it is a blessing to play for something bigger than myself. That has alleviated the pressure of having to be a perfect player. Part of setting an example is rebounding from imperfection. Having the kids see that I am an imperfect player gives them the reality of the game while still inspiring them to rebound from their imperfections in the best way possible. To me, that ability is a sphere of influence that no one can put a value on.

My volunteer work with the Troy Beck Golf Academy has been instrumental in providing me with motivation to pursue golf at a collegiate level. I had grown up playing at the Glenn Dale golf club, receiving instruction from the LPGA professional Troy Beck herself. Her spirit and mindset always kept me close to the golf course. Through her academy and summer camps, she helped make the game enjoyable for me and everyone around. I watched some of my older teammates grow up and play collegiate golf and aspired to not only reach that level but to return to the course to give back in any way that I could. As I continued to gain more exposure and play in more golf events, I made it a priority to stay rooted in the place that gave me my jumpstart in the game; so for much of my summers, I spent my time at the golf academy and summer camps, endeavoring to shed light unto the kids in a way that Ms. Troy did for me. It was an honor to not only give instruction to the kids but to hear their reactions when I would hit a pure shot. The “look at how far” or “watch me hit it just as far” comments were priceless affirmations that my hard work and natural talent would pay off in ways that I had not fathomed. Being a young black woman playing the sport, it often turns heads for many reasons. Maybe because people were ready to contribute to the next Tiger Woods, and maybe because some still wanted the sport to remain in its segregated state, but having kids cling to my leg at the end of the day and dragging me back to the range to spectate their amazing upcoming shots were moments that gave me the motivation to pursue the sport regardless of the opinions and standards set in place. Through this experience, I have learned that the affirmations of a trophy would never compare to hearing one of the kids saying how they’re one day going to hit a shot as far as I did. The game is mentally ruthless. It’s you vs. the golf course. You spend hours by yourself, attempting to not bulldoze your self-esteem by the end of a round, while still hoping that your performance was good enough. My time volunteering has not only demonstrated that the game of golf goes beyond the scores posted at the end of a tournament; it has shown me that it is a blessing to play for something bigger than myself. That has alleviated the pressure of having to be a perfect player. Part of setting an example is rebounding from imperfection. Having the kids see that I am an imperfect player gives them the reality of the game while still inspiring them to rebound from their imperfections in the best way possible. To me, that ability is a sphere of influence that no one can put a value on and is something that will continue to ground me throughout my professional career; relieving the pressure to perform to perfection.

Regardless of the tragedy we experience, we have a choice on our response. I faced hardships and chose to cope in detrimental ways. I made a choice where pride and perfectionism were two evils that I idolized. I was prepped socially and academically from a young age, not only to give me access to the best opportunities but to help differentiate myself from the “stereotypical” black person. Growing up, I embraced doing all things to the best of my ability. Along the way, my perseverance shifted to performing to perfection instead. Whether it be a test, golf tournament, even my physical appearance, it had to be perfect. Trying to transcend the human condition of imperfection is an unattainable goal that I refused to acknowledge. I continued though, to suppress the reality in order to a to thrive in my distorted narratives. As success started to slow, I wanted every reason to be the victim. Whether it was the loss of my mom, the pressure to succeed, or my susceptibility to alcohol addiction. It couldn’t have been my fault. Life had been too far from perfect to fathom holding me accountable. Being sent to a rehab facility forced me to take the course of action that I had avoided for years. To not mask the emotion. The responsibility of exploring acceptance and imperfection without shortcuts is a journey that I began to take on in my own imperfect way. I have not achieved my ultimate healing, but I have had a glimpse of what ultimate forgiveness and acceptance look like. Allowing myself grace and relief from the thieves of happiness. Accepting the imperfect is the best choice I will make not only to sustain my emotional foundation but to solidify that I will never again be subjugated to comparison and perfection.

Regardless of the tragedy we experience, we have a choice on our response. I faced hardships and chose to cope in detrimental ways. I made a choice where pride and perfectionism were two evils that I idolized. I was prepped socially and academically from a young age, not only to give me access to the best opportunities but to help differentiate myself from the “stereotypical” black person. Growing up, I embraced doing all things to the best of my ability. Along the way, my perseverance shifted to performing to perfection instead. Whether it be a test, golf tournament, even my physical appearance, it had to be perfect. Trying to transcend the human condition of imperfection is an unattainable goal that I refused to acknowledge. I continued though, to suppress the reality in order to a to thrive in my distorted narratives. As success started to slow, I wanted every reason to be the victim. Whether it was the loss of my mom, the pressure to succeed, or my susceptibility to alcohol addiction. It couldn’t have been my fault. Life had been too far from perfect to fathom holding me accountable. Being sent to a rehab facility forced me to take the course of action that I had avoided for years. To not mask the emotion. The responsibility of exploring acceptance and imperfection without shortcuts is a journey that I began to take on in my own imperfect way. I have not achieved my ultimate healing, but I have had a glimpse of what ultimate forgiveness and acceptance look like. Allowing myself grace and relief from the thieves of happiness. Accepting the imperfect is the best choice I will make not only to sustain my emotional foundation but to solidify that I will never again be subjugated to comparison and perfection.

My volunteer work with the Troy Beck Golf Academy has been instrumental in providing me with motivation to pursue golf at a collegiate level. I had grown up playing at the Glenn Dale golf club, receiving instruction from the LPGA professional Troy Beck herself. Her spirit and mindset always kept me close to the golf course. Through her academy and summer camps, she helped make the game enjoyable for me and everyone around. I watched some of my older teammates grow up and play collegiate golf and aspired to not only reach that level but to return to the course to give back in any way that I could. As I continued to gain more exposure and play in more golf events, I made it a priority to stay rooted in the place that gave me my jumpstart in the game; so for much of my summers, I spent my time at the golf academy and summer camps, endeavoring to shed light unto the kids in a way that Ms. Troy did for me. It was an honor to not only give instruction to the kids but to hear their reactions when I would hit a pure shot. The “look at how far” or “watch me hit it just as far” comments were priceless affirmations that my hard work and natural talent would pay off in ways that I had not fathomed. Being a young black woman playing the sport, it often turns heads for many reasons. Maybe because people were ready to contribute to the next Tiger Woods, and maybe because some still wanted the sport to remain in its segregated state, but having kids cling to my leg at the end of the day and dragging me back to the range to spectate their amazing upcoming shots were moments that gave me the motivation to pursue the sport regardless of the opinions and standards set in place. Through this experience, I have learned that the affirmations of a trophy would never compare to hearing one of the kids saying how they’re one day going to hit a shot as far as I did. The game is mentally ruthless. It’s you vs. the golf course. You spend hours by yourself, attempting to not bulldoze your self-esteem by the end of a round, while still hoping that your performance was good enough. My time volunteering has not only demonstrated that the game of golf goes beyond the scores posted at the end of a tournament; it has shown me that it is a blessing to play for something bigger than myself. That has alleviated the pressure of having to be a perfect player. Part of setting an example is rebounding from imperfection. Having the kids see that I am an imperfect player gives them the reality of the game while still inspiring them to rebound from their imperfections in the best way possible. To me, that ability is a sphere of influence that no one can put a value on.

My loss was not through tragedy or death, yet it still left a monumental impact on the choices I made in subsequent years. My parents experienced a very drawn out and ugly divorce at the conclusion of which my biological mother decided to withdraw completely from my life. From fourth to ninth grade, self sufficiency became my dependency. I had my basic needs met but there was an emotional aspect that was not being filled. Through my parents’ divorce, the prospect of having my emotions while having to take care of myself did not seem doable. I chose to solely take care of my physical self and to deal with the emotions when they became relevant. I didn’t consider that the loss I experienced was still worthy of grief but that I wasn’t entitled to it like others. I picked myself up and carried on as that was the best way I knew to embody mental strength as that event would serve me well later on. It didn’t provide strength. The loss of my biological mom and lack of grieving that loss was a toxic combination that opened a channel to be susceptible to all of the demons I had managed to stay away from thus far. Her disappearance in my life I knew had to provide some gain on my end. The ability to overcome all that she had inflicted on me had to come out as something beneficial later on. I was determined to create my own success from a tragedy that no one else would have control over, let alone my biological mother, but trying to reflect on something I hadn’t healed from would leave an open wound of resentment, anger, and a need for control. At the time, I didn’t want to make something good out of the trauma and abuse she had put me through. I wanted to be angry. I wanted to justify. I wanted to be the victim. The unresolved feelings I had for my biological mom left me susceptible to substance abuse, disordered eating, and child predators. I dove in head first to engage with those behaviors, leading me to a mental/behavioral treatment facility. The program took place in the wilderness where survival skills and Dialectical Behavioral Therapy (DBT) were acutely enforced. The painful aspect was that there was no avoidance technique or behavioral mask that could get me out of the program. It was a simple yet daunting task. I had to grieve the loss of my mom. There is no step by step on how to grieve a loss, and it became that much harder when it became a physical goal I needed to achieve to leave the wilderness. I tried to cry, I tried to reminisce; I could do neither. I decided to let it be; and while that decision added time to my stay in the wilderness, it was my responsibility to explore what grief would look like without taking shortcuts. I can’t recall exactly how I came to my healing surrounding my mom, but there was an overwhelming sense of peace for myself, and love for her and the role she had in my life. While in the wilderness, my mindset transformed from one of what she took from me to a mindset of all that she had given. This loss set a precedent for the future in how I wish to seek forgiveness and peace; not to align myself with the societal standards of healing, but to feel that my efforts towards healing were enough. When I could look at all that she had given me and feel the same amount of love for her that she once had for me. The journey to my ultimate healing has set a precedent of the love I want to feel towards all people. The ability to truly forgive, and to share the story for the right reasons. I believe that one day my mother will come into my life again, but because I achieved my ultimate healing I will not have to grieve again because I’ve already forgiven her. In college, there will be challenges that can’t be eliminated through academics. There will be struggles, and constant temptation to undo the healing that I’ve achieved. Coming out of this loss, and on my journey to higher education, I want to not only continue developing my emotional maturity, but do so in a place that I have learned will most definitely be embraced, challenged, and rewarded. Being a recipient of this scholarship will allow me to head into college with financial support that follows me through my academic and athletic endeavors in being a successful student, and later, a woman in any field I desire.