My youngest brother is adopted from foster care, and my family spent a few years before the pandemic as a foster family. I've spent a lot of my childhood interacting with kids who had trauma forming in their earlier years. We hosted a kid who would bite people if she got overwhelmed, and she would try to eat dog food if we left her unattended. I remember the kid who later became my brother overeating until he got sick. He would eat out of the trash can because, in his mind, he had no other option, even though he ate meals with the rest of us. In his mind, even though he was safe, he didn't know where his next meal would come from.  As a young adult, I've interacted with people my age who've experienced violence when they were younger. I have a friend who flinches if you get near him too quickly and goes to cover his head and neck if anyone near him is angry. He can't sit in a room comfortably without being able to see everyone. His brain is always on high alert, trying to analyze and detect any threats. I experience a similar amount of paranoia because of something I experienced in early high school. I find myself tracking every expression of every person I talk to, trying to prepare for a sudden onslaught of violence. Something I've learned from both experience with my trauma and through my psychology courses is that the amygdala (the part of your brain that processes fear) doesn't have a sense of time. If something bad happened once, that part of your brain will always be proactively detecting that pattern and trying to keep you safe through vigilance and paranoia.  I want to be a therapist for kids and teens. Therapy can be a massive benefit for people experiencing post-traumatic stress disorder and other related symptoms. I've personally benefited from therapy, and things like using imagery during flashbacks and learning grounding techniques. Trauma responses, such as flashbacks, paranoia, trouble sleeping, and dissociation, all come from your brain trying to distance you from the threat and trying to keep you safe. It's easy to resent your brain and body for reacting in a certain way. Even though I'm early in my education, I know I want to emphasize the importance of a positive relationship with your brain in my therapeutic practice. I'm hoping to help those who are struggling with the mental effects of childhood trauma. By helping those people, their future kids will be able to have happy, healthy parents.

I got bullied my whole life. I was excluded from groups, singled out by teachers, and made fun of by people who I thought were my friends. I had a self-harm issue for over a third of my life, and I struggled immensely socially. For a long time, I just thought I was stupid. Despite my good grades, people treated me like I was an idiot, and that furthered my mental health and self-esteem issues. After years and years of struggling, I got prescribed an antidepressant. A doctor told me that my social struggles were due to Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder and Autism Spectrum Disorder.   Throughout that early period of my life, before my diagnosis, I didn't have anyone, and worst of all, I didn't know why. For years, I volunteered at a local library and read as many books as I physically could. I took inspiration from fantasy worlds where people who were different were able to cut down their enemies and stand up for justice. I started sketching fantasy characters and writing worlds where I could belong. I took inspiration from movies I liked, especially animated ones, and I filled sketchbook after sketchbook with the stories I wanted to live out myself. I've been drawing seriously for over ten years now, and it's brought a lot of joy to my life.  I'm a psychology major because I want to help the people who struggle like I do. I want to be the person who tells people they're not stupid or dumb for struggling socially. I want to help people who feel like social outcasts and those who struggle to make connections with others.  I'm also studying art in college, because it's a central part of my life and how I view the world, and also because it can be a great tool in a mental health practice. I have greatly benefited from both art itself and art therapy. Writing stories and expressing emotions through drawing, painting, or coloring gives people a way to express feelings they might otherwise not be able to. I want to be able to give others the same sense of comfort that art brings me.  I want to use art to help others gain a deeper understanding of themselves and the emotions that surround their struggles. Clients can use art to process challenging emotions and traumatic events, and I want to use therapeutic techniques combined with artistic experience to make a space where anyone can come and create something that helps them gain a perspective on their journey and struggles. I want to help people use art in the same way I do, as a tool for viewing the world and a lens for seeing personal experiences as not something bad, but as part of a larger story.

I've experienced a lot of bias throughout my time in school. I was homeschooled my whole life, but my mom used homeschool events to supplement my learning with other classes she couldn't teach. Those events typically met once a week and had classes like art classes or gym, and were designed for homeschooled kids to have a community and additional educational opportunities. I loved being homeschooled. I got to make my schedule and be my boss. If I finished my work early, I could spend the day writing and drawing, but I still felt very alone growing up. At those homeschool class events, I struggled to connect with my peers. I could never tell when people were joking or being sarcastic with me, and I struggled to sit still for extended periods of time. I found myself outside of social circles, trying desperately to fit in enough to be liked. I got called 'Crazy Maizie' and every friend I made used me for social status, or to use me as a therapist to dump all their emotional burdens on. Teachers, as well as students, treated me like I was deliberately being difficult or like I was genuinely stupid, rather than as someone who just needed a little extra patience. I got diagnosed with ADHD along with a few other neurodiversities halfway through high school. Still, even armed with an official paper that said I needed patience and accommodations, I was met with more annoyance and accusations of laziness. I can very vividly remember one incident that happened in high school shortly after I got my diagnosis. I took sign language for nearly four years. That teacher, who wasn't subject to a school board due to the nature of the classes, treated me like I was an idiot whenever possible. I remember vividly one year, I asked for clarification on the grading method for an assignment, and she mocked me for needing to ask the question, and brushed me off without answering. I studied for the better part of two weeks for that test, and when test day rolled around, I lost more than half my points, even though my answers were correct, because I had misunderstood the grading method. When I confronted her after class and asked if my grades could be switched, she yelled at me until I cried. She called me stupid, told me I was making up my disability for attention, and accused me of just being too lazy to study. That hurt, and I still think of it years later, because I learned and put in the work, but I just wasn't given the tools I needed to succeed. After that day, I knew I wanted to help other people who were downtrodden in social situations, people who weren't stupid, but were treated like they were. I want to study psychology, which is a humanistic field, so I can help other kids who grew up like me—the kids who were bullied and don't have anyone in their corner. I want to become a therapist with my degree, so I can be there for other kids and teens just like I needed someone to be there for me.

I grew up in the church. Church leaders and family members told me from a very young age that God loved me and that I was beautifully and wonderfully made. That specific concept, being intentionally made, God knitting every cell together and writing every neuron, is one of the most impactful parts of my faith, even nearly two decades later. As I grew older, it became increasingly difficult for me to believe that. People, especially those in the church, kept looking down on me and treating me poorly. After struggling with my mental health for years, God made it clear to me that my struggles had a purpose. I was going to help other people with a similar life experience to mine. I felt very alone growing up, which made me particularly sympathetic to other people who were socially isolated, just as I was. God made it clear to me that I am called to be a therapist, and to pursue an education that will enable me to help others with their mental health in a Christ-honoring way, and in a way that points them towards the truth: They are made intentionally, and God has a plan. I struggled a lot socially, and I still do. Throughout Sunday school, I was called crazy by kids my age; nobody would sit next to me. Teachers treated me like I was being deliberately difficult when I asked questions or struggled to sit still with everyone else. My relationship with God is centered around believing that I am intentional, but the members of the church often treated me like I was a mistake. In middle school, I was bullied by my peers. I attended a homeschool co-op about once a week, and every week I'd sit by myself. My teachers would often scold me in front of the whole class, and on one occasion, I was physically restrained and taken out of class by a teacher because I was being too fidgety. I didn't understand why nobody besides me was having trouble sitting in the classrooms, making friends, or paying attention. In high school, at an all-Christian co-op, I was treated like an idiot, and I was talked down to by teachers and students alike, despite doing well academically. A teacher once yelled at me until I cried, and continued yelling at me until another teacher stepped in, all because I asked for clarification on an assignment.  I believed in a God who knitted me together intentionally, and I tried my best to be polite and respectful in every social situation, but I always found myself struggling. I was suicidal in middle and high school. I cut myself for nearly five years, and I was treated like a waste of space by most Christians I interacted with. I got told to pray my struggles away for years. I needed treatment and medication, but all I got was a group that told me the ways I was struggling were unholy and unwelcome. I thought God had cursed me, and I thought he hated me, and was sentencing me to a life of solitude. It was hard for me to believe God truly loved me, and I still feel like that some days. My faith is built on the concept that I am made intentionally, and that God is with me through everything I struggle with. Jesus struggled. He struggled with people not taking him seriously; he was treated like an idiot, but he was steadfast in his faith. God encouraged me to seek medication, to seek mental health help, and to ignore the ignorant members of his church who told me my mental health struggles were caused by a faith deficiency.  I went to the doctor in late 2021 and was diagnosed with depression, anxiety, and Attention-Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder. Recently, I was diagnosed with Autism after pushing for an evaluation that didn't dismiss me based on my gender. Now I had proof I wasn't an idiot for struggling socially and academically. The church still treated me poorly, but now I knew what God's design plan for me was. What he'd woven into my psyche, and it was so reassuring. The experiences of being bullied and ridiculed seemed to slot into place and became nothing but a lens to find other struggling people through. I find myself paying attention to those who sit by themselves, those who wear long sleeves to cover cuts, and those who seem to have that same empty look behind their eyes. God gave me those experiences to help His people better and to seek out the hurting people the church all too often ignores.  I still struggle daily, but I have a better idea of what God's plan for me is. Nearly three years ago, I knelt during a worship service and asked God what He wanted me to do and where He wanted me. I got one of the clearest and most audible answers I've ever gotten from the lord that day, and I got a very specific instruction. I was supposed to be a therapist for neurodivergent children and young adults. I was supposed to be that person looking out for the people who often get trampled by the church. I find myself looking for others who are struggling, those who are treated poorly by the church, and extending God's grace and love to them. My relationships and the people I seek out to befriend are built on the social othering I experienced as a kid. That social othering where I am left out of social circles, whispered about, and called useless or stupid. My goal for my college journey is to be one of those Christians —a Christian who doesn't see someone's flaws, but instead the beautiful intention underlying every action. I'm aspiring to be what I needed as a kid: someone who will listen and tell you that God didn't curse you, and that the people treating you like a burden are wrong. I want to be the person to let others know they are created with a purpose, and exactly right.

I've been struggling with my mental health for years. I have been diagnosed with depression and ADHD (attention-deficit hyperactivity disorder, combined type), among other things.  I got bullied for years, and I felt entirely alone. I know firsthand what it's like not to have enough energy to get out of bed, much less take care of yourself. Emotional pain can be just as devastating as physical pain.  To better help others, I've learned to prioritize my own needs before I try to save others. I'm proud to say that after multiple years of work, lots of therapy, and medication, I'm in a place in my life where I can help people around me. I'm able to better support my friends in their struggles by providing them with resources like crisis hotline numbers, being there for them when they need it, and offering a listening ear, rather than just a solution.  Last semester, at Winona State University, I took an oath with the Mental Health club to be a safe place for anyone on campus who needed help. I carry around resource cards, and I have a sash on my backpack that lets people on campus know I am there for them. I've directed people to campus resources, been a listening ear, and been a friend to those who need friends the most.  I don't want people to struggle alone like I did. I am currently studying psychology to be a therapist. I'm applying my studies currently by listening to the people around me who need help, and making sure they know I'm there if they need me. It's essential to me that everyone feels seen and heard. In my future career as a therapist, I aim to create a space where anyone can be listened to and know they have someone on their side.