“Get out of my house, NOW!” I was 13 when I slept outside my school cafeteria in the middle of the night. I remember it drizzling and being cold. I pulled myself deeper into the dark corner I found temporary safety in. I couldn’t go home, I couldn’t go anywhere. I was homeless and scared. I couldn't go back to the abusive and neglectful household that had made me feel trapped for the last three years. I just wanted to be somewhere where I felt appreciated and safe. That’s what school was for me. At home, my self-esteem and confidence depleted until I believed what was happening to me was normal. I was sworn to secrecy to never let anyone know what perspired in my household. The abuse, the screaming, the lies, the sexual assault. I felt the same emotions I had for those three years, remorse and resentment. Despite this, I was determined to become one of the best students at school. If I couldn’t get the validation I needed at home, I’d receive it elsewhere, and that’s exactly what I got. The torment no longer existed at school, the place where I was the perfect student. I could escape from everything by going to school. I was away from my parents and all of the possibilities of me being a disappointment. I was an A-average student and a pleasure to have in class. I was also in volleyball, National Junior Honor Society, and the president of my homeroom class. These were places where I could put myself out there and feel good about it. This is where I could take charge and have some kind of control; whereas I couldn’t have the slightest bit of it at home. This is where I learned I was a natural-born leader who could empathize with people. I didn’t feel out of place here. I could easily trust people that cared about me and heard me out. I also had a friend that became family to me; she helped me when I cut and attempted suicide. I was tired of the overwhelming feeling of never being enough. After that first attempt, I was able to see how valuable my life was and how I couldn’t achieve happiness if I was gone. I wanted to seize that happiness. That’s when I realized I was putting up a mask to hide the anguish I was feeling. However, in doing so, I also had an epiphany that even behind the facade I put up every day, I could defy the endless insults telling me I was nothing. I became an overachiever and burnt myself out in the following years. However, that also helped ease the pain I felt from being emotionally neglected by my parents. I pursued music, art, and books. Nothing could stop me from becoming the person I envisioned myself to be. Honor roll wasn’t an uncommon achievement of mine, and I believed it would help my parents notice me. They did, but not nearly enough. I have to give credit to my parents though. If it wasn’t for my parents and the way they treated me, I wouldn’t have had the motivation to push myself and become the person I am today. I worked for the things I wanted despite the incessant reminders that I couldn’t achieve anything. Although I became a neglected, burnt-out overachiever, the kindness and motivation my friends showed me helped me believe in myself more. I can achieve things I never thought possible and because of this, I have become someone my younger self would be proud of.