There's a phrase, "Your eyes are bigger than your stomach." I think of that every time I enter a buffet line. Since I'm not a big breakfast eater, and often skip lunch, I'm usually famished by dinner time and so I think I can consume more than my body actually should. The same can be said of money and shopping. It's so easy to go into practically any store and find something that catches your eye. Something shiny, something cool. It's not uncommon to think, "Oh, I should get that!" But after a moment of reflection, you think, "Actually SHOULD I?" Sometimes I've even been in the checkout line, item in hand, when I reconsider the purchase and put it back on the shelf. The best advice I've been given is to ask if an item is something you WANT or something you NEED. Nine times out of ten, it's an unnecessary purchase. This is why there are so many hilarious Target memes out there about patrons popping into the store to buy something small like, say, masking tape, and leaving the with Bullseye store $150 worth of "shiny objects that caught one's eye," not one of which is even masking tape. It's fun to sometimes splurge on a vacation where you purchase a souvenir so that you can tie that purchase to that special memory. In general, however, my mantra is, "If you don't NEED it, leave it on the shelf and save your money."

When you’re a kid, running, jumping, climbing, and playing sports is just living. You don’t think of moving your body as exercise or making a healthy lifestyle choice; you’re just having fun. As you get older, though, it becomes pretty clear that the more you move, the healthier you are. My mom, who has been a lifetime runner ever since she was in high school, loves to go out on her daily run every morning. Even though a part of me thinks she’s crazy for rising before the sun, it’s inspiring to see the dedication she has to run five miles a day, without fail. When I’ve asked her why she does it, she says, “You only get one body in life. It’s up to you to take care of it.” That’s always stuck with me. She also says how lucky she feels to be able to move since not everyone is so fortunate. That’s a great point, too. Basketball has been my go-to sport since I was a kid. In high school, I also got into show choir, which requires a lot of dancing and lifting. Both of those activities have kept me in shape, and I love it. I look forward to going to college and being in a community where there will be tons of other kids my age, many of whom also love to get their hearts pumping through exercise and sports. I must admit, there’s something to the notion that in your youth you feel invincible. I think a lot of people eat whatever they want and live however they want (even if it’s an unhealthy lifestyle) because they feel as if they’ll always be young and healthy, strong and thin. But I’ve seen firsthand that that’s not true. My dad had a massive heart attack when he was 40 (the one called the “widow maker” which is often deadly). He was one of the lucky ones who survived, but it was a lesson to me that making unhealthy choices has consequences. I have so much I want to accomplish in life, and I want to feel good doing it. Eating right and exercising are two huge steps to feeling good. I am so looking forward to the future—one that’s in constant motion!

Let’s be honest. In life, we tend to take everything for granted. I did the same until I thought my favorite thing—singing—might be taken away during the pandemic. As studies came out declaring that singing was one of the most dangerous activities we could engage in in terms of possibly spreading COVID-19, school administrators everywhere had to determine how to safely alter their programs. I was worried that the entire choir program would be shut down and the last part of my sophomore year, school was online and singing as a choir was not the same (doing it remotely). Thankfully, the start of my junior year, they allowed us to come back to school and let us sing. Yes, we wore wearing masks, and it felt odd. And yes, my peers were getting quarantined left and right. But through it all, the music continued, and never had it sounded sweeter. This whole experience made me realize that singing is my simple pleasure. I do it in the bathroom when I shower, in my room when I’m studying, and in the car when I'm driving. I even find rooms in different buildings and test the acoustics with my voice. I love to sing by myself, with my peers, and with my family. It's a pure joy to release emotions through song. It's amazing to me how a song can make you laugh, smile, and cry. Music brings up all the emotions, and I love that. I also love that I don't have to carry around an instrument. My instrument is my voice, and I can do it anywhere, anytime.

The song that most inspires me is “Brave” by Skillet. Christian music has helped me through a lot of tough times, and this is one of the songs that has served to make me feel better. The lyrics speak of the way God provides us with the strength we need when we are feeling weak and lonely. God’s love is unconditional and unending. Life can feel scary sometimes, and I can’t imagine navigating life without Christ’s love to rely on. Getting ready to transition from high school to college is a huge life change, and while it’s exciting, it’s also a little scary. Listening to Christian music helps reset my mind to know that I won’t be going through this transition alone. As this song states, He’ll be by my side. And as a result, I'll feel brave to navigate this life change.

I felt pretty insignificant at the start of the COVID-19 pandemic. Life was changing by the minute, and plans were being cancelled left and right. All of a sudden it felt unsafe to go to school, church, the gym, the store. Stranger yet, hugging your friend, neighbor or even your own grandparent was now considered taboo. It was like living in an alternate universe. The helper in me wanted to do something to make things better, but what could I do? What was safe? Once vaccine clinics began to open, I asked my mom if I could volunteer at one of them. They needed nurses to administer the vaccines but they also needed volunteers to greet and register people, help elderly people into the facility, and get them set up for their second shot appointments. I acted as a "vax runner," which meant I guided people into the correct area and told them the protocol to follow after getting the shot. I also ran to get more vaccines and supplies like Band-aids and shot record cards when nurses ran out of them. It not only felt good to be of service but also just to interact with the public again! It was especially fun to talk to the elderly people, many of whom had barely ventured out of their houses in six or more months. I could tell they were thrilled to talk and have some human interaction! I volunteered at the clinic many times throughout the pandemic. I even received a Public Health medallion from the Hendricks County Medical Reserve Corps as a thank you for my service. I'll never forget those shifts. I met some awesome people with great big hearts. That's just another perk of volunteer work!

I've learned to listen to people because of two significant people in my life. One is my little brother who has been diagnosed with ADHD. He’s loud, excitable, impulsive, and always interrupting. I know he can't control some of these behaviors so instead of getting irritated that his mouth never stops moving, I've learned to just listen more. That's a pretty good skill to have as I've found there are a lot of people who really just crave a listening ear. For as far back as I can remember, I've had peers share their troubles and concerns with me, almost like I'm their therapist. It's not that I have some sort of mind-blowing advice to offer, and honestly, that's usually not what they’re searching for; they just want to vent. Or they want a trusted friend to bounce things off of. My mom also taught me about the importance of "just being" with people after her mom (my grandma) died. Mom said she never really understood grief until she experienced it firsthand. Once she knew the pain and loneliness of grief, she was better equipped to help others when they were grieving. She told me how grieving people don't want to be "fixed" or "cheered up." They just want to sit with their feelings, but not necessarily alone. So when my friend’s dad died two years ago, I went out to dinner with him and just let him talk. He shared how bizarre it was to have a dad one morning and then be fatherless by the afternoon. I could tell that he felt a bit better just by sharing his feelings, and that's all I wanted to do was help him feel a little bit less anguished. Sometimes listening can do just that.

My great-grandfather's nickname was "Happy." My mom said that's because everywhere he went--to his factory job, the grocery store, the doughnut shop, or, his favorite--KFC--he was smiling and chatting up everyone around him. Although I never met my great-grandfather, his personality sounds a lot like mine. The truth of the matter is that nobody can get through life unscathed. I'm sure my great-grandfather had his troubles, and so do I. But I think when you recognize that life cannot always be happy, that's when you find your greatest joy. That may sound silly, but I think it's our unrealistic expectations that set us up for disappointment. My mom always cracked me up when we would go to the movies and she'd say, "I'm guessing this is going to be awful." If she truly had low expectations about it, she was always delighted when her expectations were surpassed. Not that I'm suggesting we go through life expecting the worst but at least if we acknowledge that life cannot always be rosy, when it is, we relish it. When we really want something and it doesn't materialize, that hurts. It has happened to me when I've not landed the part I wanted in a school play or been selected for a solo in show choir. I was expecting great things for my senior year, and much of it has not transpired. Experiencing a one-two punch is hard, and if it's a one-two-three punch, ouch. Honestly, though, my perspective has shifted as I've gotten older. I recognize that looking on the bright side is really the only lens that's worth exploring. My friends don't call me "Happy," but they do call me--a lot. They call if they need a pep talk or just a reminder that it'll be okay. That makes me happy.

Theatre and choir are my favorite expressions of art. I've been involved in both since seventh grade, and they have really helped shape who I am. More than that, they have sustained my mental health, particularly during the pandemic when so much was ripped away. I feel fortunate to have been enrolled in a school system that understood the importance of the arts to students' mental health and well-being. As my choir teacher said, "All sense of normalcy was gone for students. We knew that if the arts were taken away, too, it would be too much, too hard." She was right. My junior year of high school, I was cast as Billy Cane in the musical "Bright Star." I have to admit that the weeks leading up to opening night were stressful because cast members were getting quarantined left and right for exposure to COVID. The female lead was in quarantine up until tech night. Whew! But for the run of the show, we were fortunate to have almost our entire cast perform. We wore masks and face shields, but we still but on a great show. My mom said that watching that show every night was the happiest she had felt in months. That's what the arts provide--a brief escape from reality. Show choir has provided the same kind of joy. Singing and dancing with my peers is so much fun, but what I've also come to enjoy is competing against other schools and cheering one another on. It's a kind of camaraderie that you just don't see among sports teams. I wouldn't want to live in a world without art, and I love contributing to a more joyful world by participating in theatre and choir.

Isn't it funny how the definition of "happiness" evolves as you age? When you're a baby, you find pure contentment in gazing into your mom's eyes. As a toddler, happiness comes by way of watching the cat's tail twitch or staring at a ball of lint. In grade school, nothing says happiness like a bowl of ice cream (okay, let's be honest; this one actually extends well into adulthood). As a teenager, happiness is summed up by friends, freedom, and fast food. If we didn't realize this prior to the pandemic, it became abundantly clear when the world shut down and suddenly we weren't able to hang with friends, go out to events, or eat at restaurants. Once it was safe to re-gather, boy, did it feel good! I think we all appreciated the little things in life more than we had previously, and post-pandemic, a heartfelt hug brought immense happiness. The first time I rode a bike without training wheels, I was happy. The first time I landed a lead in the school play, I was happy. The first time I asked a girl to prom, I was happy. The first time I was hired at a job, I was happy. But I still fell from the bike and skinned up my knees. I still flubbed some lines on stage. I still got my heart broken when COVID-19 cancelled prom (and, subsequently, the development of any relationship with my date). And some of my coworkers were mean when I first started working at Dairy Queen! Still, that's life. There are lows, but happiness inevitably returns. And now I find joy simply by watching my cat swish its tail while it plays with a ball of lint.

A huge section of my closet is devoted to items of clothing that make a statement. Why? Because what you wear is basically a walking billboard so you might as well make it count. Ever since my grandmother died by suicide, I have become a huge mental health awareness advocate. Part of the way I do this is by wearing shirts and sweatshirts that say things like "Walk to Fight Suicide," "Be the Voice," "Be Gentle with Yourself," "No One Else Can Play Your Part," "We Will be the Hopeful," "I'm Living a Story," "I Will Not Give Up," "Better Days are Ahead," "The World Needs Your Presence, Not Your Perfection," and "R U OK? Conversations Could Change a Life." Inevitably, these shirts spark conversation. Sure, there have been times when people have ridiculed me for advocating for mental health, but those negative interactions don't deter me because others have asked me for advice or just to talk. And who knows the number of people who maybe have read the message a shirt conveys and it was just the thing they needed at that moment to alter their mood or attitude. If I've learned anything from my grandmother's suicide, it's the importance of being authentic, open and honest about whatever feelings we have. I really do think that so many of us wrestle with negative thoughts, depressive moods, and crippling anxiety, and we tell ourselves that we are the only ones who feel this way when, in reality, a huge portion of the population struggles with the exact same issues. My grandma was afraid of sharing her true feelings, and now she's forever gone. So I vow to live boldly, to speak my truth, and to encourage others to do the same. "We will be the hopeful."

My all-time favorite place is northern Michigan because my parents have been taking me up to my grandparent's cabin during the summer ever since I was born. When we are up there, we spend 90% of our time outside. We are either boating, swimming, fishing, skiing, hiking, biking, running, camping, or exploring. Nature grounds us with its fresh air, calming waves, blue skies, and twinkling stars. All of this reminds us that there is something greater than us and our silly little problems. What I've come to find is that nature connects us. Although we are only in Michigan one month of the year, I know the neighbors in Michigan way better than I do my neighbors back home because we gather outside and hang out. Sure, we're on vacation so we don't have the constraints of work and school, but I truly believe the nature element helps draw us together. We chat with one another around campfires, during impromptu games of water volleyball, or while casting our lines to snag fish. We have rescued stranded boaters during thunderstorms and bobbing jet skiiers who have run out of gas. And then there's the wildlife. On a single day I may spot deer, chipmunks, squirrels, raccoons, fox, geese, ducks, turkey, frogs, seagulls, swans, eagles, hummingbirds, turtles, and otters. We even had a family of peacocks that hung out on our property one summer. Sometimes they were on land and other times up in a tree! I had no idea they could fly. Above all, nature heals us. When my grandma died, the best piece of advice I got was to make sure I spent time outside. The same was true during the pandemic when outside equaled freedom. I appreciate nature for all the beauty and wonder it offers.

I was in seventh grade when I had this epiphany, I guess you'd call it. It just hit me that I wanted to be relevant. I wanted to make a difference in the world. I wanted to affect change. Or at least help people. "I want to figure out my purpose," I remember telling my mom. Maybe deep down that's what we all want. When the pandemic hit, all of our lives were turned upside down. My step-dad, who is immunocompromised and usually a laid-back guy, was freaking out, convinced that he would die of COVID should he contract it. So he begged us to be extra careful about interacting with others. It's a weird thing to be a sociable 16-year-old kid and forced to live like a hermit. I was desperate to get back out into the world and make a difference so every day I asked my mom if a vaccine had been created. When one was available, I asked if I could volunteer to work at a vaccine clinic. I went out to the fairgrounds and greeted the elderly. I pushed those in wheelchairs into the facility and helped them into vaccine booths. I smiled through my mask and exchanged pleasantries. It felt so good to be interacting with people again, and in this instance, it was like we were providing not just a vaccine that would protect them physically but a shot of hope that I think we all needed just as desperately. I'm still not sure what my purpose in life is, but I do think that part of it is to just be kind. Also, I've always been a hugger. I'm so glad that hugging is allowed again because I feel that a hug is like a soothing salve for heartbreak and pain.

It sounds so cliche to say I'm a picky eater, but it sure is accurate! I know I've frustrated my mom through the years because she has repeatedly begged me to eat healthier and not drink soft drinks. She had anorexia when she was young, though, and was hospitalized for a month and nearly died. She used to have terrible fights at the dinner table with her parents as they tried to force feed her certain foods. Because that dynamic was so traumatic, she didn't want to repeat it with her children so she never made food the focus. According to Mom, I was a pretty good eater until I turned five or six and then I became what she called a "streak eater," where I would find one or two meals I liked and would only eat those foods until I tired of them. So I went through a pancake phase, then a mac-n-cheese phase, a grilled cheese phase, and a hot dog phase. My favorite foods are cheese, chips, and soft drinks. My mom doesn't ever buy them, but now that I drive and have a job at Dairy Queen, I have the means and opportunity to go out and buy whatever I want. Often I will head directly to McDonalds following a shift at DQ to get a burger. This is my dinner as I have developed a terrible habit of consuming most of my calories late in the day. I've never been much of a breakfast eater. And I don't like eating around other people as I'm self-conscious about the fact that my food repertoire is so limited so I'm always afraid my peers will make comments. So often I don't eat much at school or out at social events. As a result, I'm famished at nighttime so often I eat the most between 9 p.m. and 11 p.m. I used to play basketball pretty regularly until I got involved in theatre and choir at school. Those rehearsal schedules were so demanding that I wasn't able to play on a basketball team anymore. Show choir requires dancing so during show choir season I stay pretty active. But the rest of the year I've not been that motivated to work out on my own. I wish I had access to a gym to lift weights, but at the high school, you have to be on an athletic team in order to access the weight room. I graduate next month, however, and will be headed to Purdue University. I have twin cousins who attend Purdue and used to be on their swim team in high school. They still work out religiously so they have invited me to work out with them next year when I'm on campus. I would really like to build some muscle and slim down in the midsection and just feel more physically fit. I think doing so would not only improve my self-esteem but my obviously my health as well. This is especially important because my mom's family lineage all have high cholesterol. It's hereditary so I likely will struggle with that, too. Even though Mom has run five miles a day for the past 33 years, she has to take medication to lower her cholesterol. My dad had a massive heart attack at age 45. He survived, but that's kind of a wake-up call to me of where I could be headed if I don't make a concerted effort to make better diet and exercise choices.

I knew it was bad news the moment I walked into the den and saw my mom's red, puffy eyes. My grandmother (her mom) had been struggling with depression, and things had gotten worse in recent months. Not that I knew much at the time because I was only 8 years old. But that morning when I asked Mom if Grandma was going to be okay, she shook her head and pulled me close to her. "No, baby," she said softly. I knew Grandma had died, but I didn't understand that much about suicide, mental health, and, specifically, clinical depression, until later. Mom was always transparent with me, answering any questions I had. The "why" question was one, however, that even she couldn't answer. It's the one that gnaws at everyone who has ever lost a loved one to suicide. Mom became a mental health advocate, raising money and taking training classes through organizations like the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention (AFSP) and the National Organization for Victim Assistance (NOVA). As I got older, she invited me to get involved, too. I was eager to take training because for as far back as I can remember, I've had friends and acquaintances who approach me to discuss their concerns, whether they are academic in nature or relationship problems. I've been a listening ear to my peers who have struggled with pregnancy scares, LGBTQ issues, and simply not feeling loved or wanted. I wish I could turn back time and tell my grandma how much she meant to me, to Mom, and to so many others. But she did light a passion within me to help others feel loved, valued, and seen. I promise to always "be the voice" for those who are struggling with life.