I've had music in my life since I was a child. My parents sang to me and my older sister almost every day. When I turned 6, I sang to my parents for the first time. They were shocked. I had a beautiful voice. I never really knew that people would ever like my voice. You see, people didn't really like me. I never was the skinny girl. I didn't have friends. I blended in with the crowd. But, somehow, I was always pushed out. I struggle for a very long time. I learned that I was Pansexual when I was in 7th grade. And, it seemed like another problem. Another reason I was different. I struggled with coming out. I struggle with being myself. I felt that everyone, even my parents, would judge me. And, despite them being supportive, I felt I would always be judged for it. But music. Music never judged me. Music never let me feel alone. Singing and listening to music was the way I relaxed and felt joyful. I sang to help me not be so sad. And, I almost didn't make it. I hated myself so much. I hated who I was. But, the music never hated me. Music never hated who I was. When I wanted to die, the music told me to keep going. Music was my savior in a way. Music made me who I am. Music healed my pain. And, I will never let that go. I will never forget what music has done for me. And, despite me not studying music, I will always use it. Music gives me hope, as well as other people. I will forever be grateful.

My story is a long and difficult one. I have trouble putting words to everything that has happened. The first memory that sticks out about school was me in after school standing in line for a snack and the boy in front of me turned around and asked me, “are you pregnant?”. I stared at him and told him no. I didn’t understand why he would think that or tell me that. I soon learned that some kids are mean. When I was in elementary school, I was teased because I was a chubby kid. I started taking the bus in 4th grade. I met some boys and we got along. We would play on the bus and it was fun. But, one day, they started a game that wasn’t fun. They said that every time I said a word, I’d get punched. I don’t know how many times I said no or that it wasn’t funny, but they didn’t listen. Finally, the bus driver stopped the bus and told the boys to get off me. He looked at me and asked if I was alright. I said I was fine, and he gave me a concerned look. But I smiled him away and slouched in my seat. I said I was fine when I wasn’t because I wanted to still be friends. And, if you get your friends in trouble, there not your friends anymore. When I got home, I studied my bruises and cried. Then, the worst thought came to my mind, what if they do it again? I got so scared, that I tried to fake sick myself out of the bus for weeks. Of course, my parents didn’t buy it and sent me on my way. That was the start of the worst issue in my life that I have had to deal with ever since. Anxiety. By this time, I finally made it through elementary school, another round of moving with my mom, and I was ready for a fresh start. But I had developed social anxiety and depression due to all the bullying, that making friends was not going to be easy. And boy was I right. 6th grade was a shit show. But that wasn’t the worst of it. When I got into 7th grade, I had officially convinced myself that everyone hated me and that I was no good to anyone. I began to feel so hopeless that I started to self-harm. I went to the school counselor and she sent me home. But, in my preteen mind, I had finally found a way to escape the torture that was school. So, I started to self-harm daily. My self esteem was at an all time low. I had to go through a lot of therapy and treatment to make it to 10th grade. My mom divorced again, and she had my little sister, Emma. Finally, when I was in 10th grade, I found an amazing school and group of people who all loved me for who I was. But that didn’t last. For, now I was a 15-year-old and had one thing in mind. Boys. My self-esteem plummeted again, and I turned to social media to get male attention. I went to all the wrong places and I ended up getting raped twice by older men that I didn’t know. Finally, I was so disgusted with myself that I turned to the only people I could, my friends. But I couldn’t stop. I kept on sabotaging myself until I got kicked out of that school, got raped again, and had nowhere to go. My parents were at there last limb. So, the only thing that they could do was to send me off. I landed with my great aunt and uncle in Naples Florida. By some miracle, they found a school for all girls who were like me. So, lost and hopeless, I agreed to go. And that school changed my life. I quickly found friends and an understanding group of teachers and counselors who were willing to finally listen to me. I was told that everything I had done in the past hadn’t been wrong. I wasn’t broken. That was the first time I had ever believe that I wasn’t hopeless. I learned to love myself. It took a lot of hard work and time, but I got my school grades back up and was finally happy. Now, I’m 17 and I have been working on getting a high school diploma and start following my dream to become a veterinarian. I still have a great support system and I feel better than ever. I still live in Florida, but I plan to go back home to Houston for college. I have a personal trainer and have been getting myself in shape and happy! I am finally going up and I don’t plan to fail!

My struggle with bullying started when I was very little. The first memory that sticks out about school was me in after school standing in line for a snack and the boy in front of me turned around and asked me, “are you pregnant?”. I stared at him and told him no. I didn’t understand why he would think that or tell me that. I soon learned that some kids are mean. When I was in elementary school, I was teased because I was a chubby kid. I started taking the bus in 4th grade. I met some boys and we got along. We would play on the bus and it was fun. But, one day, they started a game that wasn’t fun. They said that every time I said a word, I’d get punched. I don’t know how many times I said no or that it wasn’t funny, but they didn’t listen. Finally, the bus driver stopped the bus and told the boys to get off me. He looked at me and asked if I was alright. I said I was fine, and he gave me a concerned look. But I smiled him away and slouched in my seat. I said I was fine when I wasn’t because I wanted to still be friends. And, if you get your friends in trouble, there not your friends anymore. When I got home, I studied my bruises and cried. Then, the worst thought came to my mind, what if they do it again? I got so scared, that I tried to fake sick myself out of the bus for weeks. Of course, my parents didn’t buy it and sent me on my way. That was the start of the worst issue in my life that I have had to deal with ever since. Anxiety. By this time, I finally made it through elementary school, another round of moving with my mom, and I was ready for a fresh start. But I had developed social anxiety and depression due to all the bullying, that making friends was not going to be easy. And boy was I right. 6th grade was a shit show. But that wasn’t the worst of it. When I got into 7th grade, I had officially convinced myself that everyone hated me and that I was no good to anyone. I began to feel so hopeless that I started to self-harm. I went to the school counselor and she sent me home. But, in my preteen mind, I had finally found a way to escape the torture that was school. So, I started to self-harm daily. My self esteem was at an all time low. I had to go through a lot of therapy and treatment to make it to 10th grade. My mom divorced again, and she had my little sister, Emma. Finally, when I was in 10th grade, I found an amazing school and group of people who all loved me for who I was. But that didn’t last. For, now I was a 15-year-old and had one thing in mind. Boys. My self-esteem plummeted again, and I turned to social media to get male attention. I went to all the wrong places and I ended up getting raped twice by older men that I didn’t know. Finally, I was so disgusted with myself that I turned to the only people I could, my friends. But I couldn’t stop. I kept on sabotaging myself until I got kicked out of that school, got raped again, and had nowhere to go. My parents were at there last limb. So, the only thing that they could do was to send me off. I landed with my great aunt and uncle in Naples Florida. By some miracle, they found a school for all girls who were like me. So, lost and hopeless, I agreed to go. And that school changed my life. I quickly found friends and an understanding group of teachers and counselors who were willing to finally listen to me. I was told that everything I had done in the past hadn’t been wrong. I wasn’t broken. That was the first time I had ever believe that I wasn’t hopeless. I learned to love myself. It took a lot of hard work and time, but I got my school grades back up and was finally happy. Now, I’m 17 and I have been working on getting a high school diploma and start following my dream to become a veterinarian. I still have a great support system and I feel better than ever. I still live in Florida, but I plan to go back home to Houston for college. I have a personal trainer and have been getting myself in shape and happy! I am finally going up and I don’t plan to fail!