Mental health education has changed my life, my family, and my goals. I went to graduate school to help people with mental health problems after a big loss and a lot of hard work. My father’s family was heartbroken by his death. My cousin took his own life a few years after my brother did. These deaths made me realize how horrible mental illness can be for people and their families. Suicide loss is different from other kinds of loss because it makes people feel hopeless, leaves them with unanswered questions, and makes them painfully aware that many other people are suffering in silence without help. These tragedies made me realize how important it is to have easy access to mental health care that is kind and understanding, especially in places where people don’t talk about it. It became personal as my mental health got better. Sometimes trauma, family problems, and emotional stress were too much for me. Occasionally I had to fight the urge to take my life myself. Those were the hardest times for me, but they taught me how to stand up for myself. My faith, medicine, and therapy helped me get through it. It takes courage to ask for help, but it showed me that we can get better if we let others help. I am attending graduate school at Lancaster Bible College so I can help people and families who are struggling. I go to school and lead my church and community. At work, I meet a lot of people who have been through trauma, are sad, or have mental health problems and don’t get help. I want to close that gap by using my education, life experiences, and leadership to make it safe to ask for help. I urge people to talk about their mental health, stress the need for professional help, and reduce stigma in religious and other underrepresented groups. A lot of people tell others to keep their problems to themselves, but I want them to know that it’s okay to ask for help. I want to use my leadership and knowledge to help communities that don’t have culturally appropriate mental health care. By raising awareness about mental health, speaking up for the community, and offering faith-based support, I want to encourage people to put their health first and receive the care they need. Joshua’s Light stands for the strength and courage to keep going. The trip taught me that pain has a reason. I want to remember the family members I have lost by helping others find hope, healing, and strength through education and service.

I learned about the Jehovah’s Witness faith when I was five years old and kept learning about it until I was in middle school. My mom really believed what she was taught and raised us all to believe the same things. When I was a kid, this made me feel very different from other kids. We didn’t have holidays or birthday parties, and we couldn’t do many of the fun things other kids did at school. When I saw my classmates celebrate milestones or do things that seemed normal to them, I felt like I didn’t belong and was alone. There were times in the past when things worked out for me without me even trying. Being impoverished, we didn’t have to worry about the financial expense of holidays. There were times when I could skip school events I didn’t want to go to if I didn’t do certain things. As I got older, it was harder for me to understand that many things that seemed normal to me as a kid were actually wrong or sinful. I couldn’t figure out who I was or what was going on around me. I told my mom a lot that I was confused and no longer wanted to be part of the Jehovah Witnesses. After talking to her a lot and seeing how the teachings were changing my mindset, she finally decided to leave the Jehovah’s Witness faith and go back to a more traditional Christian belief system. That choice changed our lives and gave us new chances, like the chance to learn freely. As I got older, I began to see how important school was for giving me a place to live and opportunities to do things. The most important thing I want to do in the future is to keep getting better at school and work so I can help my family and other people who are having a hard time. I’m going to school right now to pursue a higher degree because I think learning can help people and their communities improve. One of my smaller goals is to keep getting better at leading. Another goal is to learn more about ministry and psychology and use what I learn to help families and people who are having a hard time. I want to help people who might feel stuck because of past experiences. Life has shown me that you don’t have to stay where you start. I am working hard in school and having faith that I can build a future that fits with my values, goals, and the life I want to live.

Going to college has been one of the hardest things I’ve ever done as a single mother, but it has also changed my life the most. It’s not just about going to school, doing homework, and taking care of kids. It’s also about getting through trauma, going through times of great doubt, and still choosing to believe in the future that God has planned for me. As a woman of color from Washington, DC, I’ve faced challenges that could have easily made me give up on my dreams. They made me more determined to make my family’s life better instead. For a long time, survival was more important than personal goals. While raising my kids and trying to make a stable home for them, I have gone through times of emotional pain, family problems, and money problems. As a single mother, I often had to do the jobs of two parents: I had to take care of my kids emotionally, spiritually, and financially. There were nights when I stayed up late studying after my kids went to bed, and mornings when I had to find the strength to be there for them, even when I was tired. It’s never been easy to balance being a mom, working, and going to school, but my kids have always been the reason I keep going. Faith and purpose have both helped me get through school. While raising my family, I earned my Bachelor’s degree in Psychology with a focus on Applied Behavior Analysis. Now, I am working on my Master’s degree in Ministry. For me, education has never been just about getting ahead. It shows how things have changed over time. I want my kids to know that their mother didn’t let her situation decide what would happen to her in the future. I chose to keep going instead. At times, the road has seemed too much to handle. For single mothers, financial problems often make it hard to continue their education. It can be hard to reach your goals when you have to pay for school, books, and everyday living costs. But I keep going because I know that getting an education will help my family and my community. Knowing that my kids are watching makes this trip worthwhile. They see the hard work, the late nights, and the sacrifices that go into reaching a goal. I want them to believe that faith, hard work, and never giving up can help them get through anything. I want them to know that their situation does not control their future. I want to help people who are going through tough times in their lives through my education and ministry work. Because of what I’ve been through, I care about people who feel broken, ignored, or down. I want to use what I’ve learned to help women, families, and communities get through tough times. Being a single mother has made me stronger, more resilient, and more faithful. My goal in getting an education isn’t just to get degrees; it’s to set an example of how to keep going for my kids. My journey shows that healing, purpose, and opportunity can still come from broken places.

Substance abuse has impacted my life for a long time, even before I could put it into words. I didn't have a problem with addiction myself, but I saw it slowly destroy the people I loved as I grew up. My mom and sister both had problems with drugs, and both died because of them. Not only is their absence real, but it is also permanent and very personal. I saw how addiction can make a home very unstable when I was a child and later as an adult daughter and sister. They were hopeful and let down, made promises and fell back, loved and were tired. Addiction altered the dynamics of families, reduced stability, and left behind emotional wounds that required intentional healing. I didn't understand for a long time why love and strength alone couldn't fix it. Those things that happened to me changed what I think. I no longer view substance abuse merely as a moral failing or deficiency in self-regulation. Trauma, mental health issues, systemic injustices, and unresolved pain complicate the situation, in my opinion. I learned that addiction is usually about underlying wounds, not the drug itself. I had to deal with both grief and compassion after losing my mother and sister. I had to choose whether their problems would make my heart harder or softer. It made it more profound. The way they fought changed how I think about relationships. I didn't care about being honest, setting limits, and being responsible before. I know how important it is to have good support systems. To love someone who is addicted, I have learned that you need to be both tough and understanding. It needs to be realistic, but it also needs hope. That balance has changed how I parent, lead, and serve. These events had a direct impact on my career path. I help people who are having trouble staying sober and finding a place to live. When I talk to someone who is addicted, I don't see a type. I see a child, sibling, or someone who might still have a chance. I can work with clients without judging them because of what I've been through. I understand the cycles. I understand the issues. I know how brave it is to try again. My past has also made me more committed to following the rules, being accountable, and having a structure at work. Being kind doesn't mean letting someone do something. You need to set clear goals, connect them with resources, and keep checking in on them to help someone stay sober. I support trauma-informed approaches because I know from experience that addressing pain can lead to healthier coping mechanisms. Drugs killed people I cared about. But it also helped me better understand what I was meant to do. It taught me that brokenness deserves compassion, that prevention is important, and that recovery is possible, even if it looks different for everyone. I didn't like the way their stories ended. But I work and speak out to make sure that other families don't have the same thing happen to them.

Courage did not come to me all at once. It took a long time to build, through survival, loss, responsibility, and faith. I returned to school during a period in my life when many people believed the doors had closed. I had already lived many lives by the time I turned thirty-five. I had to deal with marriage, motherhood, heartbreak, money problems, and the stress of starting over when everything seemed to fall apart at once. There were times when I wasn't focused on getting degrees; I was focused on keeping my family together. Education seemed like a far-off luxury, something I would do "one day" when things got easier. Life didn't get any slower. It made me better instead. The strength to go back to school came from knowing that just staying alive wasn't enough. I didn't want to just get through life; I wanted to live it on purpose. I had spent years helping people through hard times, speaking up for families, mentoring women, and working in ministry. But I soon realized that experience alone wasn't enough; I needed formal education to make my impact stronger and my influence wider. I also decided to go back to school because I wanted to change careers. I went from just working to really living with purpose. I moved up to a leadership role in supportive housing services, where I oversaw case managers and spoke up for families who were homeless. I also fully embraced my calling to ministry by teaching, mentoring, and serving in discipleship. I understood that I needed to be prepared both academically and spiritually if I was going to be in rooms where policy decisions were made or spiritual guidance was given. For me, courage didn't mean not being afraid. It was still signing up. It was studying after long days at work. It was doing my own schoolwork while helping my kids with theirs. It was choosing to grow instead of being comfortable. It was believing that my age was not a problem but a strength. Going back to school as a woman over thirty-five gives you a unique sense of purpose. We don't come back lightly. We come back because something inside us won't let us stay still. We come back because we know how much it costs to miss out on an opportunity. We come back because we have something to build, not just for ourselves but also for the people who are watching us. What gave me the strength was knowing that my story didn't end with struggle. It could be turned into leadership. It could be made stronger by serving. It could serve as a testament that investing in your own growth is never too late. I went back to school because I want my kids and the women I mentor to see that you can be strong and do something about it. I want the families I work with to know that they can grow at any time. I want to be a woman who doesn't just talk about change but also shows it. I found the strength to be brave when I realized that school isn't about proving myself. It's about getting ready for more service, more leadership, and more impact. And I made up my mind that I was ready.

There was a time in my life when staying alive was more important than learning. I started following Christ when I was 14, but becoming an adult brought new responsibilities, trauma, and times of rebuilding that changed me. I went through hard times in my own life, raised kids through times of uncertainty, dealt with broken relationships, and learned how to get back up when life knocked me down. For a long time, I grew in the quiet places, like through prayer, resilience, and the desire to make my family stable. During those years of growth, I began to realize that my pain wasn't for nothing; it was for a reason. At this point in my life, getting a higher education isn't about personal success; it's about finding a purpose. I got my bachelor's degree in psychology while I was working and taking care of my kids. That degree helped me understand trauma, how people behave, and how unfair systems can be. I am the Team Coordinator for a Permanent Supportive Housing program, and I oversee case managers who help families who are homeless. I support following the rules, having stable housing, and making sure everyone has fair access to resources. Every day, I see how gaps in education, job opportunities, and support systems hurt families who are already struggling. I want to change not only people's lives but also the systems that shape them through program leadership, policy implementation, and strategic community partnerships. But my calling goes beyond just doing my job. I fully accepted my calling to be a minister when I was forty-one. I came to understand that my calling is not just to run programs; it is also to disciple, teach, restore, and help others see how God is healing them. I am working on my Master of Arts in Ministry right now because I think that good leaders need to be both spiritually deep and well-prepared intellectually. I want to connect faith and social systems so that our churches can do more than just preach hope; they can also help their communities find long-term solutions. My experiences have shaped my values, which include resilience, responsibility, kindness, and taking care of things. My work and my faith are not separate; they affect each other. I view policy as a tool for justice in my work to stabilize housing. In ministry, I view discipleship as a means of transformation. Both need education, discipline, and common sense. I want to use my graduate education to create ministry models that combine trauma-informed care, structures for discipleship, and ways to find community resources. I see myself leading projects that help families grow spiritually and financially. I want to teach other leaders, like case managers, ministers, and community advocates, how to help people in a whole way. This scholarship will help me pay for my tuition and other school-related costs, so I can focus more on finishing my degree while still helping my community. As a working mother who supports a family, financial help is not just helpful; it is life-changing. I have learned from my life that broken places can become strongholds. Education is the thing that makes my calling clearer and gives me more ways to help. Putting money into my education is like putting money into every family I support, every woman I mentor, and every community I want to help rebuild.

It feels like more than just something I want to do; it feels like a duty and a calling. I work full-time as the Team Coordinator for a program that helps people who need permanent housing. I help families with low incomes. I see how religion, education, and leadership can change people’s lives every day. I am a housing champion in addition to being a wife, mother of five, and leader of a ministry. It hasn’t been easy to keep up with all of these things, but they have made me feel better about myself. Getting a Master of Arts in Ministry degree may seem easy, but it isn’t. It’s about helping more people, leading with honesty, and making communities better by providing both physical and spiritual support. There have been many issues with the road here. When I was 14, I accepted Christ as my Savior, but it took me a long time to feel like I needed to preach. When I was 41, I said “yes” to the call. Then I had to deal with my own issues, my family, and my money. I had to get stronger and more established, and I chose to keep going even when I couldn’t see how it would all work out. I earned my bachelor’s degree in Psychology in Applied Behavior Analysis while working full-time and caring for my family. I learned how to do homework while my kids played nearby, how to study late into the night, and how to lean on God for strength when I was tired. I won’t miss out on the chances that God has given me, which shows how committed I am to growing as a person. My work and ministry are now the same. As Team Coordinator, my job is to help families who are homeless or have low incomes find long-term housing. I also help workers and deal with problems. I help people get through tough times, find stability, and get the tools they need to start over. It is my job to ensure our program meets all standards while remaining friendly and prioritizing clients’ needs. This means working with property managers and housing authorities. My church wants me to spend a lot of time on evangelism, discipleship, and missionary work. These responsibilities may allow me to help people in both practical and spiritual ways. I could pray with a family that is about to be kicked out, or I could teach a Bible class on how to stay positive and keep going. I want to live in a world where everyone is healthy in body, mind, and spirit. This is one of the reasons I want to start a small business that helps people stay healthy and self-sufficient. A lot of the families and people I work with have been through trauma, instability, and stress for a long time. I enjoy helping people stay healthy in body, mind, and spirit. The most significant aspect of my employment, ministry, and academics is assisting others in transitioning from barely making ends meet to doing well. But answering this call will cost you a lot of money. I have to pay for my graduate studies, but I also have to pay for my kids’ schooling and support my family. I worked hard to secure financial help through my job and applied for many scholarships. My family has tried to help, but there are still problems that make things hard for them. I wish I could ignore the fact that we need money to keep learning, but I can’t. This scholarship would help a lot more people than just me. My education has helped me strengthen communities, benefiting the families in our housing program, the churches I attend, and me. With my Master of Arts in Ministry degree, I am ready to be a teacher, counselor, advocate, and leader. I help parents who want to keep their families together, kids who want safety and hope, and church members who want to grow in their faith and become better followers of Jesus every day. Helping me with my studies is also helping them. I really hope you give me this scholarship because I want to use my degree to help other people. What really drives me to work hard is having a sense of direction. I see degrees as tools, not as rewards. When I see families getting stronger, churches getting stronger, and people facing their fears and making their own paths, I’ll know I’m doing my job well. I need more money to keep going to school, use the tools my program gives me, and put what I’ve learned into practice in the places where I’ll work. This scholarship would let me keep learning in a way that benefits others. My family’s financial problems would improve, and I would be able to grow as a pastor, leader, and champion. Thank you for taking the time to think about this and for your commitment to helping students who want to make the world a better place through their education. Thank you for taking the time to read my application and for believing in a better future for service, justice, and hope.

The tragedy and loss I've been through have had a big effect on my life, my mental health, and my sense of purpose. I am still trying to figure out how my sister's death from a heroin overdose on January 1, 2023, has changed me. That day changed my life forever. Grief made me feel less safe, clear-headed, and emotionally stable, but it also made me more determined and caring. On January 19, 2021, my mom died of a stroke, which made me sad. She might not have had the stroke if she had stayed off drugs for a longer time. Because they were addicted, my mother and sister both died. This has been very hard, but I think that the deaths of these people have made me stronger and helped me get better. There were a lot of drugs and alcohol in the house where I grew up. Drugs were common in the 1980s, and they had a big impact on my life and the lives of many of my family members. I learned that addiction is a disease and not a moral failure, even though these things were bad for me. That information has helped me get better and do well at work. When I'm sad, hurt, or emotionally drained, writing in a journal and meditating help me. When my emotions get the best of me, meditation helps me feel calm, stable, and in charge. I write in a journal to figure out how I feel, answer hard questions, and keep track of my recovery in a safe place. Writing helps me deal with my anger, hope, forgiveness, and despair without being hard on myself. When I'm at my weakest and most tired, these daily routines make me feel stronger. As a case manager, I help people with substance use disorders and their families. My clients know they can count on me to be patient, understanding, and really care because I've been through similar things. I see people as people, not as their addiction. I can see what they've been through, how they can get better, and how they can keep their dignity. My own losses remind me every day how important it is to be nice and make me want to stand up for others even more. While I work on my Master of Ministry degree, I want to help and preach to people who are addicted. I really think that God wants to love people who are hurt instead of judging them. The effects of addiction on my mother, sister, and extended family have had a big effect on my life. Their stories make me want to do everything I can to spread hope, healing, and recovery. This scholarship would help me finish school and get closer to my goal in life of finding meaning in suffering and helping God heal people through kind service.

In my home, surviving was the most important thing. Peace was nice, but it wasn't necessary. In addition to having schizoaffective disorder, my sister was a drug addict. My mother was a drug addict with schizophrenia. Before I knew what order was, I saw chaos. When I was a child, there was constant shouting, mood swings, and anxiety about what might occur. I learned to be responsible, cautious, and conscious before I learned how to be a child. When I was twelve, I began looking after my sister's child. I tried to make things seem normal in a place that wasn't by taking care of people and keeping them safe. I eventually became depressed and anxious due to the weight, and I was given a unipolar depression diagnosis. At the time, I just wanted the pain to stop because I didn't know how to express how I felt. I sometimes thought that I would be better off dead, but God was gracious enough to keep me alive. As I grew older, I sought love in the hopes that it would atone for all of the negative experiences I had as a child. I married a man who was hurtful to me and did the same things I had witnessed as a child. Even though I was emotionally spent, dominated, and alone, I stayed for years to make things work. I was caring for five children, some of whom I had adopted and some of whom were mine. Despite my best efforts to support them, I was collapsing on the inside. My mental state deteriorated. I felt numb, irritable, and unable to fall asleep. I required daily tears, prayer, and medication to get through it. Despite my tough exterior, I was weak on the inside. A significant shift for me came when I realized that helping others did not improve me. I prioritized the needs of others over my own for a long time. I was able to turn my life around with the help of school, counseling, and my faith. I learned in therapy that my family's history of trauma and addiction had altered my coping mechanisms for pain and stress. I developed my ability to set boundaries, take breaks, and say no. I've learned from my faith that being broken doesn't mean I'm worthless; rather, it means God is still at work in me. I studied the same types of mental illness and trauma that had once held my family in chains when I obtained my psychology degree. I researched the brain effects of addiction, the mechanisms underlying mood disorders, and the significance of seeking early treatment. Learning helped me understand that healing was not only possible but also my purpose, and it gave me words to describe what I had experienced. I was aware that I needed to assist those who were still living in the dark, just as I had. I grew by learning from my pain. My thirties were a time of self-discovery. I had to discover who I was when I wasn't a wife, mother, or caregiver. I started journaling, exercising, and using natural remedies like aromatherapy to help with my anxiety. Rather than viewing myself as a victim, I began discussing mental health in ways that inspired others. I've learned from healing that I need to forgive, let go of the past, and be kind to myself because recovery takes time. I'm in my forties now, and I live in truth and freedom. To stay healthy, I have to work hard and treat myself with kindness and compassion every day. In addition, I support mothers and young women who are dealing with addiction, depression, and domestic abuse. Assisting others keeps me focused on my own recovery and serves as a reminder of how far I've come. I want to demonstrate to people that going to therapy does not imply a lack of faith but rather strength. Opening a faith-based wellness facility where individuals can find physical, mental, and spiritual healing is my dream. By demonstrating that God can use both to bring freedom, I hope to serve as a bridge for people torn between seeking God's assistance and seeking professional help. Since I am aware that my mother and sister were engaged in unwinnable battles, I have come to forgive them. While healing adds meaning to the past, it does not alter it. My story is told in part by each scar, tear, and setback. Getting here was not simple. I used to be a depressed young child living in a violent and drug-filled world. I am a woman walking with purpose and peace today. Even the deepest wounds can be transformed by God into new life, beauty, and strength.

My name is Lakisha Myrick, and I am a woman shaped by faith, perseverance, and purpose. I am a mother of five, a mentor, a community advocate, and a believer in the power of second chances. My journey has not been easy—I’ve survived childhood trauma, domestic violence, mental health struggles, and the pain of losing close family members. Yet, through each trial, I’ve discovered not just resilience, but a calling to serve, uplift, and lead others toward healing and hope. My life experiences have fueled both my compassion and my commitment. I know what it feels like to be overlooked, unheard, and broken. I also know what it feels like to rise. That’s why I’ve dedicated over a decade of my life to working with youth and families impacted by trauma, poverty, and instability. Whether I’m mentoring a young person, advocating for a mother in crisis, or speaking life into someone on the verge of giving up, my goal is always the same, to help people see that their story doesn’t end in their struggle. I believe that impact starts with presence, and purpose is best expressed through service. I’ve worked in education, housing, and community outreach, and each role has deepened my desire to create systems that are more compassionate, accessible, and human-centered. I’ve learned how to listen with empathy, act with integrity, and lead with love. These are the values I bring into every space I enter. Looking ahead, I plan to continue my education and pursue a career focused on mental health, social justice, and faith-based community development. My vision is to create programs and spaces that address both practical needs and emotional healing—places where people are seen holistically and served with dignity. I want to help dismantle the stigma around mental health in underserved communities and provide tools that empower people to take charge of their own healing and growth. In addition to direct service, I plan to use my voice to inspire and educate. I’m currently writing a book titled Prayers of a Broken Heart: From Hurt to Healing, which shares my personal story of survival, faith, and redemption. I hope it becomes a source of encouragement for others navigating pain, showing them that healing is not only possible, but beautiful. I also want to build platforms for others to tell their stories, because I believe healing multiplies when we make space for truth. In everything I do—whether in school, work, or ministry—I intend to make a lasting impact by being a bridge for others. A bridge from brokenness to healing, from silence to strength, and from hopelessness to purpose. My life is living proof that you can be both wounded and called, and I plan to spend the rest of my life helping others realize the same. That is the heart behind my career, and the impact I plan to leave on the world.

There was a time in my life when I wore stress like a badge of honor. I believed that pushing through, ignoring my needs, and staying in constant motion were signs of strength. As a mother of five, working full-time, managing a household, and carrying emotional weight from past trauma, I had become used to putting myself last. But everything changed after I experienced a severe mental health crisis that forced me to make a choice—either prioritize my well-being or lose myself completely. The turning point came after years of silently battling depression, anxiety, and unresolved trauma. I had spent so long functioning in survival mode that I didn’t realize how disconnected I had become from my own body and emotions. I suffered a psychiatric break that landed me in the emergency room, not because I wanted to die, but because I no longer knew how to live under the pressure I had normalized. That was the moment I knew I had to make my mental and emotional health a priority. I began by seeking professional help. I started therapy, which gave me a space to unpack years of pain and allowed me to begin understanding my emotional triggers and patterns. I learned how to name what I was feeling instead of burying it. I also incorporated spiritual practices, such as journaling, prayer, and mindfulness, to help regulate my thoughts and reconnect with my purpose. For the first time, I gave myself permission to rest without guilt and to say “no” without apology. One of the biggest lessons I learned during that time was that healing isn’t selfish—it’s necessary. When I take care of myself, I am better equipped to take care of others. I realized that burnout and martyrdom are not signs of strength; they are signals of neglect. I began setting healthy boundaries in my relationships, asking for help when needed, and surrounding myself with people who valued my wellness, not just my output. This experience has completely reshaped the way I approach the future. As I prepare for what’s ahead—in education, career, and life—I do so with clarity and intention. I’m currently pursuing personal and professional goals that align with my values, and I make sure my mental and emotional health remain part of the foundation. I schedule time for self-care, check in with my therapist regularly, and remain honest with myself when I feel overwhelmed. Most importantly, I’ve become an advocate for wellness in my community. I speak openly about my journey so others feel less alone in theirs. I want to help create spaces where people don’t have to hit rock bottom before they get support. Making my health a priority saved my life, and it taught me that wholeness is not only possible, it’s worth the fight. That commitment continues to shape the way I show up—in school, in work, and in every room I enter.

Mental health is not just a topic of discussion or a checkbox on a medical form. For me, it has been a deeply personal, often painful, and ultimately transformative journey. My experience with mental health—specifically navigating depression, anxiety, and a psychiatric break—has profoundly shaped my goals, the way I form and maintain relationships, and how I understand both myself and the world around me. It taught me that healing is not linear, that strength often looks like vulnerability, and that empathy is a gift born from experience. For years, I moved through life functioning but not fully living. I carried the weight of unspoken childhood trauma, endured domestic violence, and found myself in survival mode more often than not. I learned early on how to keep going, how to “be strong,” and how to put others first. But I didn’t know how to rest. I didn’t know how to ask for help. I didn’t know that being strong didn’t mean being silent. Eventually, the pressure became too much. I experienced what I now know was a psychiatric break. It was as if everything I had stuffed down—the pain, the grief, the fear. I could no longer pretend. I could no longer smile through the storms. I was forced to face the truth: I needed help. I needed healing. I needed to prioritize my mental health, not just for my own survival, but for the sake of my children, my family, and my future. First, it reshaped my goals. Before my breakdown, my goals were largely external—finish school, provide for my children, hold everything together. Those goals still matter, but I no longer chase success for the sake of performance or approval. Instead, I pursue purpose. I am intentional about setting boundaries, maintaining balance, and creating space for rest. My goals now include emotional peace, spiritual alignment, and mental clarity. I want to build a life that is sustainable, not just successful. Mental health challenges also taught me to value relationships differently. I used to be surrounded by people, yet feel utterly alone. My pain made me defensive, closed off, and sometimes hard to reach. I didn’t know how to communicate my needs or express when I was overwhelmed. Going through therapy helped me develop emotional intelligence and learn healthier communication skills. Some relationships didn’t survive the shift. People who were only comfortable with the “strong version” of me struggled to accept the more honest, vulnerable version. But the relationships that did remain—those rooted in truth, grace, and mutual respect—grew stronger. My experience also impacted how I parent. I no longer pretend to have all the answers. I talk openly with my children about emotions, stress, and the importance of asking for help. I want them to know that mental health is just as important as physical health, and that their feelings are valid. I want to break generational cycles of silence and shame. My honesty has helped them feel more secure in expressing their own struggles, and we are growing together as a family—learning how to support, listen, and heal. On a broader level, my mental health journey has completely transformed how I see the world. I used to view it through a lens of fear and survival—always bracing for the next crisis, always preparing to be let down. Now, I see the world with more compassion. I recognize that everyone is carrying something. The person who lashes out in anger may be overwhelmed with grief. The child acting out in school may be struggling with trauma. The neighbor who never smiles may be fighting a silent battle with depression. I no longer judge as quickly as I once did. I look for the “why” behind people’s behavior and approach situations with curiosity instead of criticism. This perspective also drives my passion for advocacy. I believe that mental health should not be a luxury or afterthought. It should be a right—accessible, normalized, and integrated into every community. I use my story to speak out, to educate, and to break down stigma. I have walked alongside women leaving abusive relationships, teenagers navigating depression, and families trying to make sense of a loved one’s diagnosis. I don’t come with all the answers, but I come with empathy, and sometimes, that’s enough to open the door to healing. Spiritually, my mental health journey has deepened my relationship with God. I used to believe that faith meant hiding my pain or “praying it away.” But I have learned that faith also looks like going to therapy, setting boundaries, and crying out when life feels too heavy. My brokenness brought me closer to God, not further away. Mental health and faith are not at odds—they work together when we allow God to meet us in our weakness. In many ways, my experience with mental health has become one of my greatest teachers. It has shown me who I am beyond the roles I play and the expectations I try to meet. It has taught me to slow down, to breathe, and to value presence over perfection. Today, I continue to pursue healing as an ongoing process, not a destination. There are still hard days, but I now have tools, support systems, and the courage to ask for help when I need it. I no longer feel ashamed of my story. In fact, I feel empowered by it. My scars are no longer sources of shame—they are reminders of what I survived and proof of how far I’ve come. In conclusion, my experience with mental health has shaped every part of my life. It redirected my goals toward authenticity and purpose. It deepened my relationships by teaching me to value emotional honesty. And it expanded my understanding of the world, making me a more compassionate, intentional, and resilient person. I hope to continue using my voice, my story, and my heart to make space for healing—not just for myself, but for everyone still searching for peace in the middle of their storm.

Selflessness, in my life, is not defined by grand gestures, but by a consistent commitment to putting others before myself. It is rooted in empathy, compassion, and a desire to serve, even when it requires personal sacrifice. I strive to live this out daily, through my family life, professional work, and personal faith. One of the clearest examples of altruism in my life came when I became the full-time caregiver for my nephew. He was just twelve years old, navigating trauma and instability, and needed a safe and loving environment. At the time, I was already raising my own children, balancing work, school, and life responsibilities. Taking him in meant stretching my time, finances, and emotional bandwidth, but I knew he needed stability and support more than I needed comfort. That decision was not about being heroic, it was about being present. Today, he is thriving, and I am grateful that choosing to give more of myself helped him step into a better future. Professionally, I have committed over a decade to working with youth and families facing difficult circumstances. Whether I am mentoring young people, supporting single mothers, or advocating for families within housing systems, my goal has always been to meet people where they are and walk with them toward where they want to be. I have stayed late to make sure clients feel heard, followed up when others stopped calling, and gone the extra mile, not because I was asked to, but because I care. I believe that true service shows up, even when no one is watching. Perseverance is another value that has shaped who I am. My journey of faith began at the age of 14, but it wasn’t until I experienced deep personal trials that I fully surrendered to my purpose. I endured childhood trauma, domestic violence, a psychiatric break, and the loss of close family members. I could have allowed these experiences to silence or harden me, but I chose healing. I chose to use my story as a testimony, believing that vulnerability could be a tool for someone else's restoration. I am currently writing a book titled Prayers of a Broken Heart: From Hurt to Healing, where I share the raw truth of my experiences. This work is not for fame or sympathy. It is for those who are quietly struggling, wondering if they can survive what they’re going through. By being honest about my journey, I hope to give others permission to begin theirs. In every area of my life, I aim to live with compassion, generosity, and determination. I give not because I have everything, but because I remember what it felt like to have nothing and still be loved. That memory fuels my service and keeps me grounded in humility. For me, selflessness is not just a value. It is a daily choice, a way of living, and the foundation of how I hope to continue making a difference.

Growing up in a home where mental illness was part of our everyday life shaped nearly every part of who I am. My mother was diagnosed with schizophrenia, and my sister was diagnosed with schizoaffective disorder. As a child, I did not have the vocabulary to explain what I witnessed, but I understood that my home was different from others. Some days, my mother would be fully present, engaging and calm, while on other days, she would withdraw or speak in ways that confused and frightened me. Similarly, my sister often struggled to stay grounded in reality, vacillating between moments of brilliance and episodes of instability. These early experiences did not only affect me emotionally, they helped to mold my beliefs, relationships, and career aspirations in ways that continue to guide me today. Rather than becoming resentful or overwhelmed, I developed an enduring sense of compassion and responsibility. I saw how mental illness isolates not only the person struggling but the family around them. I also witnessed the stigma, misunderstanding, and judgment that came from the outside world. These realities opened my eyes to how easily people are dismissed when they do not fit into societal norms, especially when they live with visible mental health challenges. However, even in the middle of that confusion, I recognized glimpses of grace. There were moments when teachers showed empathy, neighbors lent a helping hand, or a social worker provided real support. These glimpses became guiding lights for me, helping shape a value system built on advocacy, patience, and purpose. Today, I am honored to serve as a Team Coordinator for a Permanent Supportive Housing (PSH) program, where I work with individuals and families facing severe and persistent mental health diagnoses. In this role, I support both staff and clients, creating systems of care that recognize the humanity and potential in each individual. Many of our clients have lived through long histories of trauma, homelessness, incarceration, or institutionalization. Some have been estranged from family, while others have never had consistent support in their lives. I understand this world intimately, not just through my training, but because I have lived it. My past allows me to show up with empathy and authority, helping clients feel seen, heard, and respected. Working in PSH has reinforced what I learned growing up—people are more than their diagnoses. While mental illness may affect how a person functions, it does not define their worth, identity, or ability to grow. I have supported clients who are gifted artists, dedicated parents, skilled communicators, and resilient survivors. Often, their gifts remain hidden under layers of trauma, addiction, or fear, but with consistency and care, these qualities begin to emerge. Part of my responsibility is to help clear the path for healing by connecting people to housing, behavioral health services, financial assistance, and most importantly, community. I believe deeply that housing is healing, and that when people have a place to call home, they begin to rebuild every part of their lives. Beyond my professional life, I am also deeply involved in ministry. I serve as a Missionary and actively do evangelism work with the homeless population throughout the city. This includes praying with individuals in encampments, handing out food and hygiene items, and offering words of hope and encouragement. Many of the people I meet on the street are struggling with untreated or misdiagnosed mental illnesses. Some of them are survivors of abuse, trauma, or long-term neglect. These are the people that society often ignores, but they are the very people that I feel called to love and serve. My ministry is not confined to a pulpit or sanctuary. It happens in alleyways, shelters, parks, and sidewalks—wherever people are in need of hope. My evangelism work with the homeless population has reinforced a major truth that I live by—mental health challenges do not strip someone of their value or humanity. Every person I encounter is a soul worthy of love and healing. My personal experience with my mother and sister helps me to avoid judgment and operate from a place of compassion. I understand that what appears as defiance may actually be fear, what looks like disconnection may be a trauma response, and what sounds like nonsense may be someone’s way of trying to cope with an overwhelming world. These insights help me to connect with people in ways that go beyond surface-level interaction. To deepen my impact and broaden my reach, I am currently pursuing a degree in ministry. I believe that theological training will help equip me to merge spiritual care with mental health advocacy in ways that uplift and empower communities. One of my long-term goals is to bridge the gap between faith communities and mental health services. Too often, people with mental illness are told to pray harder, have more faith, or are blamed for their condition. These responses are harmful and based in misunderstanding. I want to help create churches that are trauma-informed, inclusive, and equipped to walk alongside those living with mental health struggles. Faith should not silence suffering, it should offer a safe space for healing. This journey has not only shaped my professional goals, it has also taught me how to build stronger and more meaningful relationships. Because of my background, I have developed a keen sense of empathy. I tend to listen before I speak and seek to understand before I respond. I know what it means to feel alone in a room full of people, and I try to make sure others never have to experience that in my presence. My leadership style is rooted in emotional intelligence, active listening, and encouragement. Whether I am supervising staff, mentoring a peer, or supporting a client, I try to show up as someone who leads with love and respect. In all of this, my personal experiences have become my greatest teacher. They have taught me resilience, humility, and the power of unconditional love. They have also instilled in me a desire to serve, not out of obligation, but out of calling. I do this work because it is personal, it is spiritual, and it is necessary. I have seen the brokenness of mental illness.

What does legacy mean to me and why? To me, legacy means the lasting impression and impact I leave on the world, not just in terms of accomplishments or possessions, but in how I made people feel, how I lived out my values, and how I helped others along the way. Legacy is about influence, about passing down something meaningful, whether that’s wisdom, love, faith, resilience, or service. It is not limited to bloodline or title; it is about the seeds we sow into others that continue to grow even after we are no longer here. I believe that legacy is formed daily through our choices, actions, and presence. It is in how we show up for our families, how we contribute to our communities, and how we represent our faith or core values. Legacy matters because it outlives us; it becomes the foundation others build upon. How has my upbringing impacted my path in life? My upbringing has had a significant impact on the person I have become and the direction my life has taken. I was raised in an environment that, while filled with some dysfunctional love, also had its share of struggles and generational patterns. I witnessed both the strength of survival and the cost of unhealed trauma. Growing up, I saw people either sacrifice themselves to the chaos of poverty or sacrifice the joy in life so much just to make ends meet. I learned early what hard work, sacrifice, and determination looked like. At the same time, I also became aware of what happens when emotional pain is left unspoken or unresolved. Those experiences gave me compassion, drive, and a strong sense of responsibility. I have always known that I was called to do more than just exist; I was meant to help others find healing, hope, and purpose. The things I lacked growing up became the things I now try to give to others. I chose a path that focuses on service, ministry, and advocacy because I know how powerful support can be when someone feels seen, heard, and uplifted. How do I plan to continue or break the cycle? I plan to continue the cycle of faith, perseverance, and love that was modeled for me by those who invested and poured into me. I am proud of their strength, and I want to honor that. However, I also recognize cycles that need to be broken, such as cycles of silence, emotional neglect, and generational trauma. I am intentional about breaking those patterns by seeking healing, embracing vulnerability, and creating safe spaces for my children and those around me. Through my personal life, my ministry, and my career, I strive to model emotional honesty, compassion, and hope. I want my legacy to be one of healing, not hiding. I want those who come after me to know that they can rise, that they are worthy, and that they do not have to carry what does not belong to them. My goal is to leave behind not just memories, but momentum, for others to continue growing, thriving, and walking in their purpose with clarity and courage.

Life has been my greatest teacher. As a wife, mother of five, and dedicated community servant, my journey has been marked by moments that have tested my resilience, deepened my faith, and ignited a passion for lifelong learning. Now, at this stage in my life, I am pursuing higher education not just as a personal achievement, but as a necessary tool to fulfill the calling I believe God has placed on my life, to serve, lead, and uplift others, especially those in underserved communities. Growing up and navigating adulthood, I experienced firsthand the impact of systemic inequities, housing instability, and educational barriers. These experiences shaped my understanding of the world and instilled in me values such as perseverance, compassion, empathy, and accountability. Through the hardships I’ve faced, I learned how vital it is to advocate for yourself and others. My life journey has fueled a desire to be a bridge for those who feel forgotten, unheard, or stuck. I believe that my struggles were never in vain, and they have given me a voice that speaks to those who feel like giving up. Professionally, I’ve dedicated the last several years to working in social services, supporting individuals and families in need of stable housing, emotional support, and access to essential resources. Spiritually, I have been called to teach and encourage others, especially women, by helping them see that healing and purpose are possible, even after years of pain or loss. I see my career as a combination of ministry, advocacy, and leadership, centered around lifting others as I climb. Higher education will not only deepen my understanding of policy and practice, but it will equip me with the tools necessary to lead impactful programs, influence system-level change, and serve with excellence. I hope to focus my studies on human services, nonprofit management, or theology, areas that align with both my professional goals and spiritual calling. I envision launching initiatives that address homelessness, youth development, and emotional wellness, programs that educate, empower, and build long-term stability. This scholarship will play a critical role in supporting my academic journey. As a working mother managing multiple responsibilities, financial barriers often make returning to school feel overwhelming. This scholarship would relieve some of that burden, allowing me to fully engage in my studies while continuing to serve my family and community with focus and passion. It also affirms that people like me, those who may have taken a non-traditional path, still have a place at the academic table and can thrive with the right support. In short, my education will be a catalyst for change, not just for my personal growth, but for the growth of those I serve. I am committed to using what I learn to be a better advocate, mentor, and leader. With your support, I will continue to walk in purpose, uplift others, and carry out the work I was created to do, with grace, excellence, and unwavering faith.

My Journey to Christ, Career Aspirations, and Vision for the Future My journey into Christianity did not begin at a pulpit or during a revival service—it began in brokenness. I came to know the Lord in the midst of pain, trauma, and hardship. While I accepted Christ at the age of 14, it wasn’t until I reached my early 40s that I fully surrendered to His will and embraced my divine calling. Life had taken me through deep valleys: I endured an abusive marriage, a SWAT invasion of my home, the incarceration of my current husband, the sudden loss of both my mother and sister, and the challenge of raising children who were processing their own trauma. Each of these experiences brought me to a place where I had no choice but to lean on something greater than myself. That “something” became my “someone”, Jesus Christ. I didn’t find the Lord in a traditional sense. Rather, He found me, over and over again—in every broken place. He met me in the quiet cries of my heart, in the moments when I wanted to give up, and in the strength I didn’t know I had when I had to be both mother and father to my children. Through it all, God’s grace held me together. What once felt like punishment, I now recognize as pruning. God was shaping me into the woman He destined me to become. As I matured in faith, I realized that my testimony wasn’t meant to be hidden; it was meant to heal others. God had not only called me out of darkness, He had given me the assignment to lead others into His marvelous light. One pivotal moment that defined my faith-driven leadership occurred during the height of the COVID-19 pandemic. As a mother, missionary, and case manager, I was surrounded by people facing tremendous loss, anxiety, and uncertainty, including my own children, who were still healing from trauma. During that season, I was not only navigating my own pain, but also standing in the gap for others who felt hopeless. I began leading virtual prayer calls and offering emotional support to coworkers and families, reminding them that even in darkness, God is near. I shared my testimony, not to gain sympathy, but to offer proof that God’s grace is sufficient, even when life feels impossible. That season marked a spiritual awakening that changed the course of my life, including my professional path. I currently serve as a case manager in a Permanent Supportive Housing (PSH) program, and I view my work not just as a job, but as a ministry. Every day, I walk alongside families experiencing poverty, trauma, mental health struggles, and hopelessness. I have the privilege of encouraging them, advocating for them, and helping them rediscover their worth and dignity. It is in these sacred spaces of service that I see God working most clearly. However, I also recognize the need for further education and theological training to fully step into the larger vision God has placed on my heart. My career aspirations are rooted in both ministry and service. I aspire to become a licensed minister or Christian counselor, someone who combines spiritual discernment with professional tools to help others navigate life’s challenges. I also dream of writing devotionals, speaking at conferences, and creating healing spaces for women who’ve experienced domestic violence, grief, and trauma. One day, I hope to establish a faith-based transitional housing facility for single mothers who, like me, are rebuilding their lives while clinging to faith. To reach these goals, I am actively pursuing theological education. However, this journey comes with significant financial obstacles. As a mother still supporting children (adult and minor) while managing household expenses, the cost of seminary education is overwhelming. Receiving this scholarship would ease that burden and allow me to focus fully on my studies, spiritual growth, and preparation for ministry. It would also be an affirmation that my calling is not only necessary but valued and supported by the broader faith community. Academically, this scholarship would give me access to deeper biblical training and mentorship in areas such as hermeneutics, homiletics, and pastoral care. Professionally, it would prepare me for the ministry and nonprofit work that requires both spiritual authority and practical training. Spiritually, it would serve as yet another testimony of how God provides for those who walk in obedience. It would remind me that while the road may be difficult, it is also divinely ordered. Looking ahead, my future plans are ambitious because I serve a limitless God. I envision developing faith-based programs focused on trauma recovery, inner healing, and personal growth, particularly for women and young adults. I plan to host workshops and retreats that combine prayer, Scripture, and practical life coaching to help individuals overcome adversity and walk in purpose. I also intend to launch a podcast and online platform that creates space for transparent conversations around healing, faith, and transformation. One project close to my heart is a discipleship curriculum titled “Distressed but Not Destroyed.” Inspired by biblical figures like Joseph, David, and Jeremiah, who all endured hardship on their way to purpose, the curriculum will help women see themselves in the Scriptures. It will affirm that their pain has purpose and that their story is not over. In five to ten years, I see myself fully walking in ministry, teaching, counseling, and empowering others through the Word of God. I envision partnerships with churches, shelters, and community organizations where I can offer holistic support through my lived experience and professional training. I want to be a voice of hope, a reflection of God’s love, and a vessel of healing. This scholarship is more than financial aid; it is fuel for the vision God has entrusted to me. It would allow me to grow, lead, and serve at a greater capacity, without the added burden of financial strain. Most importantly, it would position me to continue the work I’ve already started, but with more tools, confidence, and clarity. Beyond the classroom, I want to be an advocate for women and families whose voices often go unheard. I want to use my life, not as a tale of tragedy, but as a testimony of triumph. I want others to see that no matter how broken their past may be, God can still bring beauty from ashes. This scholarship is not just an investment in my future—it is an investment in the lives I am committed to serving. With your support, I will continue to rise, teach, serve, and lead—by faith and for God’s glory.

My faith has deeply influenced my leadership style, shaping me into a servant leader who leads with compassion, integrity, and purpose. Rooted in Scriptures like Proverbs 3:5–6—“Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding”—I have learned to trust God’s wisdom over my own, especially in moments when leadership required strength I didn’t feel I had. Mark 10:45 reminds me that leadership is not about position, but about service: “For even the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve.” These verses guide how I show up—as a mother, missionary, case manager, and community leader. One of the most defining moments in my journey came during the height of the COVID-19 pandemic. At the time, I was navigating multiple layers of trauma: the loss of my mother, becoming a single parent to children healing from their own pain, managing my role as a case manager during a mental health crisis, and balancing the emotional weight of my own lived experiences—including domestic abuse, a home invasion, and my husband’s incarceration. Despite the chaos, I found strength not in my own ability, but through the power of God’s grace. In that season, I became a spiritual anchor for many. I led virtual prayer calls, ministered to women who were feeling lost and overwhelmed, and supported coworkers and clients through moments of uncertainty. I didn’t have all the answers, but I had faith—and I allowed that faith to be the light others could follow. I shared my testimony openly, not to seek sympathy but to offer proof that God’s grace is real and His power is made perfect in our weakness. In doing so, I found that others were not only encouraged but empowered. They began to believe that if God could bring me through, He could do the same for them. That experience changed how I view leadership. I no longer see it as a role or title, but as a sacred opportunity to serve, uplift, and guide others toward healing and purpose. It confirmed for me that my life, no matter how broken it may have seemed at times, was a vessel for God’s glory. Every trial, every tear, and every testimony is now part of a greater mission to lead others by example and faith. Looking forward, my vision is to create spaces—whether through ministry, social work, or speaking engagements—where individuals, especially women, feel safe to be vulnerable, supported in their growth, and empowered to walk boldly in their God-given identity. I want to help others not just survive their pain, but transform it into purpose. Faith isn’t just part of my leadership—it is the foundation of it. And as long as I continue to trust God with the path ahead, I know I’ll keep leading with clarity, compassion, and courage.

The major challenge I have encountered as a mother was trying to protect and guide my children while struggling with trauma and mental health. The most recent trauma was when my daughter was almost abducted while walking our dog and two weeks later the preditor was found dead. In May 2019, SWAT entered my home and violated my feeling of safety and security while stating to me that my husband was responsible for the murder. After that event I mentally shut down, I was dealing with depression, PTSD, anxiety, and panic attacks. I was afraid, walking around in shambles mentally. Although I was experiencing this, I was still a mother of five children looking to me for guidance and protection. I didn't know who I was anymore and how I was going to display to my children that everything was ok. I was so afraid that I would have all my children sleep in the room with me, with the bedroom door barricaded because I was afraid of retaliation from the victim's family. My children still had to leave to go to school and I had to go to work, but I was constantly looking over my shoulder. I downloaded an app on each of our phones to show where we're at all times. I was a wreck. Eventually, after much tears and prayers, I decided I needed to get professional help and I obtained a therapist and psychiatrist. I knew my kids needed more from me than to allow this circumstance to define my reality. After spiritual counsel, professional therapy, and medication, I began to refocus my energy and go into survivor mode. I relocated our home so that I didn't have to relive the paranoia every day. I allowed my children to attend therapy as well to work through their perception of the event. I allowed them to go into their own rooms a regain independence. Doing this helped show my children that you don't have to make a traumatic experience control your present or your future. I was a display of true resilience. Of course, I still have to deal with the PTSD and anxiety, but I no longer and paralyzed by the fear of the unknown. This was my biggest learning experience because it was not until something of this magnitude happened to me was I able to know what kind of foundation I had. I saw that God and my family's supports kept me grounded. I knew that there was greatness in me and a reason for my story to help another person get past a similar hurdle. Also, this will be a great story for my grandchildren and beyond to learn from so they can know anything is possible as long as you keep the faith. I want them to see that you can live and strive even while suffering from mental health. To also learn that taking care of yourself is the most important thing in order to effectively take care of others. Just like the airplane analogy, when the plane is going down, put on your oxygen mask first before attempting to help others. This is the reason I now rest when my body says rest, not allow myself to stress over anything, and to be slow to anger. I saw that my quality of living was altered in May 2019 and I try my best moving forward to make sure that I don't allow any other situation out of my control to do that again. When my children look at me, they see resilience, strength, faith, and confidence.

I grew up surrounded by undiagnosed mental health family members. Dealing with drug-addicted parents and siblings. Family with anger management issues and paranoia. I didn't know at the time that these were all under the umbrella of mental health concerns. I have ongoing mental health experience, ranging from severe depression, PTSD, anxiety, and attempted suicide. Watching those around me struggle with mental health treatment and myself having to go through several stages of mental health recovery, caused me to want to aid others in healing through mental health. From my experience, mental health is triggered by trauma, usually from childhood or traumatic exposure. People display mental health challenges in different ways. You may see a person having erratic behaviors, talking to themselves, and/or not having any concept of their current reality and you think to yourself, they have a mental health disability. Yet, what about those who smile in your face, come across as articulate, and show up every day with a routine, but when they are alone, they cry from despair and depression or decide not to eat or forces themselves to vomit due to a flawed self-image. Not to mention the person who cuts themselves to distract themselves from the pain, or drink themselves to sleep. We can not always identify a person in a mental health crisis. There is such a stigma around mental health and the word crazy, that people, the majority of the time will not even go get help. In certain cultures, keeping things bottled up inside and pushing them down is known as strength, causing people to walk around like ticking time bombs. The exposure to this reality is what gave me the passion to work in the realm of Mental Health, helping people understand why mental health services are so important. Normalizing the need to have the freedom to care for yourself mentally just as much as we do physically. To help it be known that mental wellness goes hand and hand with physical wellness. In 2018 I graduated with my Bachelor's degree in Psychology. I took on this major because I needed to understand the root of how the human mind works, and why traumas trigger a certain diagnosis. Not to mention those who were born with some sort of mental health diagnosis such as Autism. As a case manager, I work with individuals and families that have a mental health diagnosis. Each one of my cases has traumatic experiences that have lead to their diagnosis. I work with these people regularly and it touches my heart to hear how they are struggling with reality. This is the reason I am pursuing my Masters' in Clinical Mental Health Counseling. I want to be more than a support resource, but I want to be able to professional aide not only my clients but those in my community. I want to be a source of healing and comfort to those around me. Each story is unique and should have no shame. To truly heal you have to be able to trust the person you are telling your story to. Since I have a plethora of knowledge of Mental Health from personal experience, connecting it with my academic and professional experience will allow me to educate those who are ignorant to the effects of mental health on our society. I want to not only work with adults and families but youth as well. Children have affected my mental health as well, and they are the ones that get overlooked or titled as behavioral problems. It takes a person that is comfortable with not only their own mental health status but the mental health status of others to step in and advocate for those who are ignored. I embrace them and let them know that not only do I see them, but I hear them and will walk alongside them, as long as they need me to until they get to a place of self-sufficiency in their walk with mental health. So you ask How has your experience with mental health shaped your goals, relationships, and understanding of the world? Well, I feel that my story explained that it allowed me to understand that we all fall under the Mental Health umbrella in some form and I plan to use my skill-set to not only bring forth mental health awareness but to be an advocate for those struggling with mental health disorders

I grew up surrounded by undiagnosed mental health family members. Dealing with drug-addicted parents and siblings. Family with anger management issues and paranoia. I didn't know at the time that these were all under the umbrella of mental health concerns. I have ongoing mental health experience, ranging from severe depression, PTSD, anxiety, and attempted suicide. Watching those around me struggle with mental health treatment and myself having to go through several stages of mental health recovery, caused me to want to aid others in healing through mental health. From my experience, mental health is triggered by trauma, usually from childhood or traumatic exposure. People display mental health challenges in different ways. You may see a person having erratic behaviors, talking to themselves, and/or not having any concept of their current reality and you think to yourself, they have a mental health disability. Yet, what about those who smile in your face, come across as articulate, and show up every day with a routine, but when they are alone, they cry from despair and depression or decide not to eat or forces themselves to vomit due to a flawed self-image. Not to mention the person who cuts themselves to distract themselves from the pain, or drink themselves to sleep. We can not always identify a person in a mental health crisis. There is such a stigma around mental health and the word crazy, that people, the majority of the time will not even go get help. In certain cultures, keeping things bottled up inside and pushing them down is known as strength, causing people to walk around like ticking time bombs. The exposure to this reality is what gave me the passion to work in the realm of Mental Health, helping people understand why mental health services are so important. Normalizing the need to have the freedom to care for yourself mentally just as much as we do physically. To help it be known that mental wellness goes hand and hand with physical wellness. In 2018 I graduated with my Bachelor's degree in Psychology. I took on this major because I needed to understand the root of how the human mind works, and why traumas trigger a certain diagnosis. Not to mention those who were born with some sort of mental health diagnosis such as Autism. As a case manager, I work with individuals and families that have a mental health diagnosis. Each one of my cases has traumatic experiences that have lead to their diagnosis. I work with these people regularly and it touches my heart to hear how they are struggling with reality. This is the reason I am pursuing my Masters' in Clinical Mental Health Counseling. I want to be more than a support resource, but I want to be able to professional aide not only my clients but those in my community. I want to be a source of healing and comfort to those around me. Each story is unique and should have no shame. To truly heal you have to be able to trust the person you are telling your story to. Since I have a plethora of knowledge of Mental Health from personal experience, connecting it with my academic and professional experience will allow me to educate those who are ignorant to the effects of mental health on our society. I want to not only work with adults and families but youth as well. Children have affected my mental health as well, and they are the ones that get overlooked or titled as behavioral problems. It takes a person that is comfortable with not only their own mental health status but the mental health status of others to step in and advocate for those who are ignored. I embrace them and let them know that not only do I see them, but I hear them and will walk alongside them, as long as they need me to until they get to a place of self-sufficiency in their walk with mental health. So you ask How has your experience with mental health influenced your beliefs, relationships, and career aspirations? Well, I feel that my story explained that it allowed me to understand that we all fall under the Mental Health umbrella in some form and I plan to use my skill-set to not only bring forth mental health awareness but to be an advocate for those struggling with mental health disorders.