Instagram handle: @manuribxs I'm proud of being LGBTQ+ because it allows me to have a differentiated vision of the world; I know how evil it can be and how bright it can be. I am proud due to my brothers and sisters who came before me. My pride stems from surviving: my existence in a world with evil people who claim I can't be out, proud, and fully myself, is my greatest act of resistance.

I roll the windows of the rented minivan down as my father turns the radio up. The second I feel the refreshing breeze brush against my cheek, I know I am right where I belong. We cross another state line, and my dad pulls over to take a photo of the bright blue welcome sign. My mom tells us to hurry up as she knows staying next to the highway is dangerous, but we all know she's loving the view and this moment, as she poses with the dog next to the sign. We rush past the grass back to the car, and it's another 10 minutes of driving until we stop at a Waffle House to gobble on some carbs. The above sequence of events happened during a Spring Break road trip, in which my family and I travelled through three US states. It may not have lasted long and not been as glamorous, but it's still one of the best trips of my life. Why you may ask? Because it showed me what I truly want from my life. On that trip, we didn't really have a destination; we followed whatever seemed interesting on a sign. This sense of adventure, recklessness, and joie de vivre filled our week on the road. We connected with nature as we stopped by a lake and swam for about ten minutes. We connected with each other as we discussed which radio stations and road snacks were the best. We connected with the world as strangers in Cracker Barrell asked to pet my dog and told me stories about theirs. So, when you ask what inspires me, I must speak about this trip. I never lacked motivation, but this brief period in my life awakened needs I didn't even know I had; I never wanted to drive before knowing how spacious and comfortable a minivan can be. I never planned to take weekend road trips down to the lake. I never planned a Waffle House trip. This voyage showed what my idea of lust for life is. It showed me the future I so badly desire. Now, when I think about why I work hard, I see myself ten years from now: packing the backseat of my minivan with snacks as I look up the directions for the nearest lake to jump in along with my best friend. Maybe we'll do it fully clothed. Who knows? All I know is it'll be great.

I love my mother. She is my best friend. We fight as normal mothers and daughters do, and we apologize as normal mothers and daughters do. My mother likes Brazilian music, keeping the house clean, and taking a walk in the park. My mother has anxiety. All of these are descriptors of my mother, not defining characteristics. You should treat it as such. I don't know exactly when her anxiety started, but it became much more prominent after her move to the US, which is understandable. I never knew how much it affected her until she had a seemingly unprovoked panic attack at Ross. Thing is, it was never unprovoked. My mother is a beacon of strength and resilience. Moving to the US alone, living without her daughters for 2 years, dealing with immigration documents, dealing with EVERYTHING... Anyone would be overwhelmed. It's just easier for my mother. After that moment, I felt an urge to protect her from such stress. I knew there wasn't much I could do as a teenager, but I could definitely lighten her load. And so I did. I stopped fighting her for silly things. I started reminding her of how loved she was all the time. I became an expert at identifying the signs of panic setting in. I know what sets her off and I stopped doing that. All of that was fueled by love. Dealing with my mother's anxiety made me fall even deeper in love with the field of psychiatric medicine. It made me a better daughter and a better person. I am more understanding of the nuances of mental health. It starts with my mother, and it ends with all seven billion of us.

A shared sentiment in the art world is that creativity can be an escape from everyday problems. I use art in order to put my aesthetics on record. Instead of just picturing a grey forest with a small cottage and deer running around, I paint it. Painting is the way I release my craziest imaginations and dreams with no limitations. In the painting, the trees don't need to be realistic. If I want them to be, they can be just simple brown sticks. That's my favorite thing about painting: you are completely free to do whatever you want with the materials you want. Want to use paint? Go for it. Glitter? Sure. Leaves? Why not! You are in complete control of the creative process. There are no boundaries. No chains. Painting is a symbol of freedom and bravery for me. Throughout history, the art of painting has been used many times in order to represent political movements in the face of a dictatorial government. The courage needed in order to blatantly go against tyrants in that way is unexplainable. That's why I admire and take part in the art form. With this scholarship, I could take a breather every once in a while to just release my thoughts into the canvas while in college. Since I'll need to go to graduate school to reach my dream job, I'll have to spend a good amount of money on my education. In order to relieve stress from dealing with such finances, I could erase the world around me and just paint. This scholarship would help me do that.

This is my chihuahua, Tokyo, and my cat, Suzuke. We adopted them in February 2020. A neighbor of ours, their old owner, traveled a lot for work and felt guilty about leaving them alone, so he was looking for someone to adopt them. When he saw a mom and her two kids, he KNEW who was taking them! From the first look we took at them, we were already in love. Tokyo and Suzuke are the greatest pets. They are our angels, helping raise the vibration of the home and our spirits. We would be lost without them!

Most people would like to call themselves unique. Everybody wants to stand out in a crowd. However, I am not embarrassed to say that I'm just a normal girl. Such a statement may be considered "cringe" by some, but there's nothing wrong with normal girls; normal girls are awesome! I love normal girls! But I'm not here to talk about them. I'm here to talk about myself. Although I don't think it's bad to be a "normal girl", I believe everyone has a group of traits that make them, well, them. Who am I, Manuela Ribas? I'm a high school junior based in Miami, FL. I am a Brazilian immigrant. I am a bookworm. I've played the guitar since 5th grade. I love to cook but am still getting a hold of it. I love going to school. My favorite Girl Scout cookie is S'mores. I'm Vice-President of the Gay-Straight Alliance and co-founder/anchor of the school's news network. I don't eat seafood. I want to see the world. I could stay here all day and tell you about who I am. But I'd rather start at the beginning. My educational journey begins at Colegio Santo Agostinho, a prestigious 1-12 school in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil. Every single year they appear on the best schools of the country ranking. They are a leader in preparing students for the Brazilian college admissions exam. This shows by the harshness of the school; most students had to take summer classes, including me at one point. All the thousands (yes, thousands, plural) of students there united in one common factor: their love for the school. Most of them had been there since 1st grade; I was there from 2nd to 10th grade. That's more than enough time to form a connection to your peers, staff, teachers, environment... During test week, it was not unusual to see students breaking down, crying, saying they were leaving the school... And the following year, you'd see them walking down the halls. Why is that? The sense of security the school gave you. Sure, sometimes it was hard to keep up with the workload, but in that school, you had staff you knew your whole life, buildings you knew like the palm of your hand, and teachers who treated you like family. How could you leave? It took guts. This familiarity is what made the school environment so enjoyable. It was huge, but it was family. It was lighter on the shoulders when hundreds of your classmates lend a shoulder to cry on about tests. Most who left did due to conditions out of their control. I'm one of those people. In July 2018, my mother left for America. From this point on, I felt like I was balancing on a tightrope, waiting to be pushed off. I knew I'd join her eventually; I just had no idea when. Until 2019. That year, I had the confirmation of when I'd go: January 2020. I started living my life to the fullest. I cared about one thing and one thing only: having fun and making memories. Little did I know this would only make it harder to leave. That was the year I had to go to summer school; my focus had shifted. My experience at that school made me see education both as a tool for success and fun. Going to school was fun! Learning was fun! Thankfully, that situation didn't change in my new American school. It's significantly smaller, so the sense of family is even bigger. All my teachers knew my name by the third day and it was incredible getting involved. I'm a member of three clubs, Secretary of SGA, Vice-President and Co-Founder of Gay-Straight Alliance. I also co-founded the school's news network, which takes care of the morning announcements and any other audiovisual projects. All my experiences involving school have sparked nothing but joy. My wildest dream is my future: I picture myself in the Northeastern USA, with the fire crackling, my tea brewing, my partner cooking his special hot dog recipe (I'm a simple woman), with my Doctor of Medicine degree on the wall. One of the principles of my life is to always lower the amount of suffering in the world. By being a physician, that'll be my job. The US has a shortage of psychiatrists, the specialty I plan to be, and I can help those who otherwise would continue dealing with their demons unassisted. It's been a wild ride, hasn't it? I can't wait to see how much crazier it gets.

In the 21st century, technology is everywhere. Some scholars would say we are in the 4th Industrial Revolution, with the constant research and innovation we live amongst. Such innovation is especially important in times of crisis. During the COVID-19 pandemic, we truly saw the importance of scientific advancement. A year after this mess started, we are just seeing signs of improvement. No matter how small, the betterments we've seen in the situation are due to non-stop hard work and research by a talented, passionate team of scientists. Many of us talk about going back to normal; little of us realize we are never going back to what we were before. We need new technology to adapt to changing habits. Longer-lasting masks, better plexiglass, faster internet... Many aspects of our daily lives will be altered forever, and we must catch up. Perhaps the most important thing we might learn from all this is how badly we should support healthcare workers. Clapping isn't enough. Science has spoken: more pandemics will come. Who will take care of the sick? Who will be on the frontlines? Who won't sleep? Healthcare workers. We must value them. STEM professions must be more valued since when tragedy strikes, they're the ones we run to.

I live my life following one simple rule: make the world around me brighter. That's all. My biggest passion is to make others happy, to start a chain reaction of good deeds, to leave nothing but joy in the road I pave for me... Life is all about the small things you do to better this world. No act is too small. No act is too grand. Everyone can be a beacon of light to their colleagues. To follow on this journey, every step I take is thought out with kindness and love. Science, in my opinion, is one of the greatest ways to brighten up the world. With science, we can cure diseases, answer questions, make progress, and have fun while we do it! I have always felt a passion for science, and the field I am drawn to is medicine. Ever since I could speak, I told others I'd be a doctor. Some people are born knowing what they were meant to do, and luckily, I am one of those people. I always knew I was fated to save lives and end suffering. To me, being a doctor means being a source of light to people who are their worst. It means setting aside any personal limitation to save others. It means doing whatever it takes to relieve suffering. During my undergraduate studies, I plan to connect to that field even more. I want to take part in research to reach life-saving treatments, volunteer my love and time in hospitals and clinics, and study non stop so I can be the best doctor I can be.

I firmly believe that all of us have a reason to be alive. The reason why we were born. What we came to this world to be or do. However, no matter what specific cause we serve, it all falls down to one main goal: to make the world a better place. I reach this goal by making others happy, starting a chain reaction of positive energy. Making others happy is my biggest source of joy and I plan to implement it into my career. One of the biggest problems we as a society face right now is the mental health issue. It is undeniable that mental health issues like depression and anxiety hinder people's abilities to fulfill their purpose. Since MY purpose is to help others with their purpose, surely I will do my part to solve the mental health crisis. In college, I plan to major in psychology, to learn more about such devastating diseases and how to properly help those suffering. After college, I'll go to medical school and become a psychiatrist. Being a physician is my biggest dream. Ever since I could talk I told people I'd be a doctor. Doctor Manuela Ribas will help others fulfill their dreams.

I am a queer female immigrant. Won the lottery, huh? My experiences in all these demographics helped shape the person I am today. And who am I? I am a powerful, strong young woman. But I wasn't always like that. I used to be quiet and just took every punch people threw at me with a smile. I had to get bruised in order to grow. However, I am grateful for all my scars. I can use them to help others reach the apex in their lives without them having to hurt as I did. This is the impact I hope to have: I want to help others be the best person they can be. This triggers a positive feedback loop, in which the effects keep greatening. Once this person is at their best, they can help someone else be their best. And it goes on, and on, and on, like a domino effect. Throughout my journey, I have noticed that just existing in a world where I can get murdered just for being who I am is activism. Being unapologetically myself is activism. Helping others be unapologetically themselves is activism. Just by breathing and living, I am helping my fellow queer kids change the world. Slowly and one of us at a time, we will reach a point in our lives that we no longer have to be afraid. No longer have to look around before holding hands. No longer have to lie. There will come a day when we are free in every sense of the word. But for this day to arrive, we must all work together and lift each other up. However, action is needed other than existing. I am acting. I am a co-founder and Vice-President of my school's Gay-Straight Alliance. By creating the club, I and my friends are a beacon of light to all queer kids who need guidance. Our club is a safe space for all. We help kids find themselves. We give them a shoulder to cry on. We give them a place to be themselves unapologetically. That's how we change the world.

COVID-19 has no doubt affected everyone. Definitely, some were more affected than others. One thing that we can be sure of is that nobody was expecting such a disaster. Most of us read about it in the news and shrugged it off. We thought it'd go away soon. There's no need to worry. This is just a flu. Turns out it wasn't. It was so much more, and most of us can't even recognize ourselves in pictures from a year ago. Crazy that it's been a year, huh? I am an immigrant. I moved to America in January 2020. Sounds like it was yesterday, right? I remember the thing that excited me the most about moving was school. I had watched a lot of movies set in American high schools and I wondered which would be more relatable. Well, none of them are, because my experience was a movie by itself. I started going to school in February. I crushed the admissions exam at my tiny school, already putting my name in the principal's mouth. "She might be advanced", he said. I quickly adapted. Made friends easily, kept my grades up, became the teacher's pet really early. Then we started talking about coronavirus. I vividly remember my Chemistry teacher having an open class for us to ask all the questions we had. He said schools may have to close and everyone sort of hoped for it. It was almost the end of the year, finals were just around the corner, and everyone wanted an extra break. We just never knew how LONG that break would be. The first day of online school was my 16th birthday. I remember no one wishing me a happy birthday and just going to Chilli's with my family to celebrate. I didn't really mind. I was aware that the least of people's worries was my birthday, I just didn't expect such worries to tumble down into my family's mind also. I had some family members who didn't even text me hello. That was sort of shocking. It was the first time I realized COVID-19 would change the world as I knew it. I lost touch with all my friends and my relationship with teachers became hindered. But I never let my grades drop. How? Focus and perseverance. Coronavirus made me truly realize just how much of our success is solely in our hands. While my colleagues were failing left and right, I stood tall. I found a way to adapt to the world around me and just do what I had to do. I ended the year with all As and made Principal's Honor Roll. I continue to make Honor Roll every quarter. As I look back on this isolated year, even though I no longer recognize that girl, I'm so proud of who she became. I grew in ways I never thought possible, and I vowed to just keep growing.

I am currently working on my lifelong passion: serving my community. I am the co-founder and anchor of my school's news network, which works on the YouTube channel and produces morning announcements. The news network helps kids in online school have a sense of familiarity and normalcy in the midst of all the COVID-19 madness. Although having the morning announcements back may seem small, it helps students feel part of something, part of the school community since they know what is going on in the building. It encourages them to hold out hope for a better world in the near future. With this grant, I would work towards my main goal in life: to be a physician. I would apply this money to my college education so I can get this burden off my chest and can focus completely on making the world a brighter place.

A moment that changed my perspective in life is when my father got sick with COVID-19. My father is a general surgeon who's been practicing long before I was born. He was a Doctor Without Borders, a pioneer in liver transplantations, and he's a professor in one of the best medical schools in our state in Brazil. Due to this, him getting the coronavirus was not totally unexpected. What was surprising, however, is how he reacted to it. My father has always been an exemplary human being for me. Born in a small Southern town to poor parents, he grabbed himself by the bootstraps to get where he is today. His father wasn't exactly stable and let his addictions get the best of him. It was just my dad with his two siblings and his dad. He worked since he was nine, gathering baby chicks on a farm. With nothing but hard work, he became one of the most recognizable doctors in the city. When he first told us he tested positive we didn't really mind. We thought it wouldn't escalate any further than a cough or fever. And then a few days later he told us he felt shortness of breath. That's when we started getting worried, especially since my mom, sister, and I live here in America and couldn't just fly out to Brazil. However, it didn't consume us. After a few weeks, he went to the hospital to get an x-ray for his shortness of breath. He discovered that about 40% of his lungs were taken over by a form of pneumonia caused by the coronavirus. Immediately, he was hospitalized. Doctors asked him if he wanted to go on a ventilator and he refused every single time. I think part of him knew he would not wake up from the ventilator. And he couldn't have that, could he? He has daughters to take care of. He has daughters to, simple as that, love. I remember I never felt more afraid. I never prayed harder in my life. Up until that moment, I had never cried while praying. The night I first face-timed my dad while he had oxygen support on his nose and was tired and weary from the illness, I was taken aback. My dad, my hero, the strongest man I'd ever known, was in a weak state. It changed how I saw my dad. Who once was an unbreakable iron wall became a human just like me. That night not only I cried, but I also sobbed as I prayed for God to let me keep my dad, enumerating all the things I still had to do with him. He's gotta see me graduate high school. He's gotta walk me down the aisle. He's gotta play with his grandchildren. It can't be his time, can it? God wouldn't do that. Up until that point, I had never thought of my dad dying. I was never scared of my dad dying. That night, I was never more terrified. After around a month in the hospital, a month of fear, a month of desperation, a month of doctors asking him if he wanted to sleep, he was released. I said in the above paragraphs that this episode was the scariest moment of my life. The day my dad was released was the day I felt most relief. My prayers had been answered. I'd get to keep my dad. This episode changed the way I look at life because it opened my eyes to something I knew but didn't really know: people can die at any moment. Cherish them. Hug them. Love them. You'll never know when the last time is. Now, I make sure to call my dad every day and tell him how lucky I am to be his daughter. Now, I no longer hesitate when I go hug my loved ones.

In real life, it doesn't matter how much money you have, how beautiful you are, or how young you are. What matters is how your community feels about you and what you've done for it. No one will be able to vouch for you if all you did was be rich or be pretty. In this world, what you leave behind is the good (or bad) you've done. That's your inheritance to your community and the best thing about it? Everyone can leave something behind. There's no limitation to good deeds. Even if all you did was smile at someone from your porch, you're already doing good. You're brightening someone's day. Sometimes, that's enough to save a life. Community service is perhaps the most important thing in my life. I am devoted to making people's days brighter. I've been told multiple times that just being in a room with me is enough to cheer people up. That I don't even have to try. It's just in my blood to make others smile, make others laugh, make others forget their worries just for a little while. Even when I need some cheering up myself, I keep my head up and continue with my mission to make the world happier. I believe that happiness is contagious, and if people just tried a bit harder to spread joy, they'd realize their own days are getting lighter. Besides just being me, I help my community with my leadership. At school, I am a co-founder of the Gay-Straight Alliance, a club that was extremely necessary to help LGBTQ+ younglings who need someone who supports them, someone to look up to. My colleagues and I have received many messages from kids who feel lost and alone and find refuge in the club. We work together every day to keep that safe space and inspire others to keep working for all the other kids who may come after them. My dream career is to be a physician. In doing that, I can bring smiles to people's faces in the midst of suffering, give them hope in the darkness, and illuminate their hearts. That's what everyone's life goal should be: bring light to darkness.

The quote I chose isn't a quote per se; it's a verse from one of my favorite songs, "Levanta e Anda" by Emicida. It goes like this: "Irmão, você não percebeu Que você é o único representante Do seu sonho na face da terra Se isso não fizer você correr, chapa Eu não sei o que vai" It says that you are the only representative of your dream on Earth, and if that doesn't make you run, nothing will. This quote deeply resonates with me because although I am a hardworking individual, I admit that sometimes I just sit by idly waiting for things to happen. Maybe it's due to burnout, maybe it's due to plain human nature laziness, but it happens. Whenever I get in such a mood, I just play that song and remind myself of this principle: only I can make my dreams come true. It's all in my hands. It depends on me and my hard work. And it works. Just the simple act of playing a two-minute song is enough to get me out of the couch and into my work space. And I get things done.

The definition of a creator is a vague one. Who can denominate who is a worthy creator and who is just a human being? The truth is: we are all creators. We all have our little projects, our big dreams, our entire life is a creation, a piece of art. However, inside the bubble of our own minds, sometimes we have epiphanies and realize: oh. I HAVE TO DO THIS. This is what happened when I got the idea for my book. I've always loved writing and all my teachers said I was "above average" compared to my peers. I attribute this to my love of reading and studying; ever since I could I was eating up books, and my SAT prep helped me recognize grammar rules I wasn't actively aware of. One day in class, we were assigned to write a holiday-themed short story using the vocabulary words we learned that week. I decided to write the introductory paragraph; the story was about a couple who is on the brink of breaking up and find themselves again during Christmas. I went all out to a point that the characters were now real people for me. I needed to tell their story. I needed to continue this; I needed more than a few paragraphs. I'm going to turn this into a full-blown, 400-page novel. This book is going to be my passion project. I have it all planned out. I just need to put it on paper. I am writing this to showcase to people the dangerous path between puppy love and long term love: many people think they have simply fallen out of love. I hope that with this book people can realize how deep love can be, and how we can find it in all sorts of moments. Rooting for Elora and Kenji, the main characters of my book, I have found myself in the same route: I was scared I was over my boyfriend after my desperate love grew calmer, but in fact, my love was getting DEEPER. Although I would love candle-lit dinners and moon stealing, I am satisfied with just staying in bed holding hands. And that's the key to love: being happy with the little things. Just being with that person is enough for you. That's love. That's my book.

When I first read the essay topic, I thought of closing the tab and not thinking of this scholarship again. Nobody likes to talk about their traumatic experience, do they? Then I stopped for a second and read the keyword in the prompt: overcome. I wouldn't be sharing my trauma story, I would be sharing my resilience story. And I don't mind talking about my strength. It took me a while to build it. When I was fifteen years old, on January 30th, 2020, at 9:30 PM BRT, I boarded an American Airlines flight to the Miami International Airport and watched as the city I grew up in and loved with all my heart floated away. I watched as my friends became ants and my family got out of frame. I watched my boyfriend get an Uber from the airport and cry because he wanted to seem tough for me. I can confidently say those 8 hours and a half were the hardest of my entire life. I spent 1/3 of the flight just crying, 1/3 eating, and 1/3 trying not to cry, scared someone would think I was being trafficked (no joke, that was actually my thought process). In fact, I cried so much during that flight the song I did it to appeared on my Spotify Wrapped as the SECOND most listened song of the year. Yeah, it was that bad. My first day in America was pure hell. I couldn't enjoy anything. I kept thinking about how sad I was, how much I missed my friends, my family, my boyfriend, my house, my school, my city, my EVERYTHING. I cried over thirty times that day. I stayed in that mood for about four days. Then the tears became less frequent, but still there. I thought of going back many times. I thought I couldn't do it, I wasn't strong like my mother who stayed two years away from her daughters. I wanted OUT. Finally, I started school. Now I had something to focus on; I needed to get good grades so I can get to a good college and have the future I dream of. That's what saved me: my future. I'm in love with my future. I need to get there. I can't do that if I'm constantly wallowing in my own sadness. I realized my life would only go downhill if I make it so. My old life is gone; my friends and family will always be there, but I have to focus on my life HERE. I had the epiphany that my happiness is in my own hands. Of course, I miss everyone so much, but the people I truly cherish, my real friends, they're still here. We talk everyday. My boyfriend and I are still together; THE REAL ONES STAY. I started planning. I started a college list and SAT prep classes as soon as my sophomore year. My hope grew and my dreams grew with it. Now, December 14th, 2020, at 9:09 AM EST, I see everything so clearly; I'll go so far here. My future is so brilliant it blinds me. I have many friends, my teachers and school staff are incredible and I have learned not to believe the price tag at CVS. I am fully adapted. What once was my downfall is now everything I could ever want. I can't see myself going back now; my life is HERE. And I'm so excited to see what it's got in store for me.

As I look to my future, I notice it would not exist without a heavy amount of education. Since my main career goal is to be a physician, I will spend the rest of my life studying, due to the field of medicine being updated every day with new research. I don't find that a problem because I've always loved school, which can be considered an unpopular opinion since many students can't wait to leave. The idea of independence, doing whatever you want, without parents on your back, is surely a dream. However, you don't need to leave education behind to get such independence. In fact, education GIVES you such independence. By getting good grades and having good relationships with the school staff, I earn the trust of my parents. I am motivated by everyone cheering for me. My mental health is better since I see myself succeeding. It's all a big domino effect: by doing well now, I assure myself I will do well later. Seeing my dad's eyes light up when I show him my Honor Roll certificate, my mom's smile as I tell her about my grades, my teachers complimenting me to the principal, everything is worth it. It's not easy, but nothing good ever is. The key is to be passionate about it. I am passionate about education because it gives me everything I could ever want. My career, my connections, my friendships, my whole life was built on my education. I am who I am today because of the education I've received. I hope one day everyone is able to cherish a good quality education as I did. It shouldn't be a privilege; it's a human right.

This may sound cheesy but I look to TikTok. I know, I know, not so reliable, but they lead me to reliable sources such as economists and financers. I have friends who know a lot about this type of thing who guide me, and I also go to my parents. Apple doesn't fall far from the tree, right?

My entire life my parents knew I was different. Being doctors, they notice the little things in you: why did you eat less than yesterday? Why are you so tired? Why are you walking like that? I could never fake any illnesses to get out of events for that reason. But one thing my mom always noticed more than others is my pubescent characteristics, such as menstrual pattern, hair, acne, etc. Sure, normal things to be unusual at a teenager's first years, but her inner eye picked it up right away. After six years of my mother being absolutely sure, my diagnosis was confirmed: PCOS. Polycystic Ovary Syndrome is an illness in which (you guessed it) my ovaries have tiny little cysts all over them. There's no cure, but treatment can change lives. I was always a more masculine kind of girl; I had a lot more hair on my legs, face, armpits than my friends. My acne was astounding, and sometimes I could go a whole semester without getting my period. My "beer belly" (also very common in PCOS patients) was fairly easy to notice. All of that bothered me deeply. I would look at my pretty, perfect, girly friends and think: why can't I look like that? Why can't I be normal? I started working on my self-esteem, and today I would call myself the most beautiful girl in the world. I realized I was letting my illness define me. I started treatment and a lot changed, but not everything. I accepted myself, hair, beer belly, low voice, and all. Now, I think all those tiny things make me even more beautiful, as they are signs of a struggle I managed to overcome and now embrace. Besides making me love myself a lot more, I became much more accepting of other people's so-called flaws. I made a promise to myself to never let anyone feel bad about something they can't change. This confidence and this promise made me much more approachable and likable. Now, my relationships are stronger than ever and I wouldn't change myself for anything in the world.