I have struggled with mental health a majority of my life. It impacted me so much that my younger self would not recognize me today. I was adopted at a very young age. At first, I did not think much about it because I was so young, but as I grew older, a feeling of being unwanted settled deep down in my mind. I told myself that my biological mother put me up for adoption for a good reason, and that made the feeling subside for a time. My adopted family felt like home for a little while until my father passed away when I was 6 years old. I couldn’t handle the loss. It felt as if his passing changed how I was being treated. My mother started to verbally abuse me. It made me wonder if my mother felt like I loved my father more than her. As I grew up, the verbal abuse got worse; I did not feel loved or wanted anymore. I felt like I could not do anything right, and that I was a failure. As a result, I became a perfectionist to try to make her proud, but she still looked at me in disappointment. I was always told that my feelings weren’t valid. I became depressed. I felt alone, unwanted, and that I would never be accepted anywhere. I went through this struggle alone throughout high school and a majority of my college years. My mother made me think that I could never live or do things on my own, so I couldn’t really get away from her. I learned to handle the verbal abuse on my own, telling myself that I was okay. I started to push my friends, family, and coworkers away. I started to get angry and cry at every little thing. I hated myself, and I started to have suicidal thoughts. I felt like I was never enough. I thought everything would be so much better without me. I was afraid to talk to anyone about what I was going through because I was afraid that they wouldn’t believe me. It wasn’t until I was with my best friend in my 3rd year of college, and she noticed how different I was acting, that I told her everything. She was so supportive and understanding. I told her how I wanted to die, and she made me realize that I wasn’t really okay. She told me how life for her would be if I wasn’t around anymore, and how important it is to talk to people. However, at first, I did not take her advice, and everything got worse. It started to affect my job, and I didn’t want to do anything that I loved anymore. Now, 4 years later, I am working at a school and aiming to get my master’s degree. I am finally understanding that my best friend was right. I have so many students that are excited to see me everyday. I also have a group of color guard students that purposefully take time out of their day to see if I’m okay. Some even say that I am their favorite teacher. They trust me with things that they normally won’t tell anyone, and I want to do whatever I can to help them whenever they need it, even though I never received that help. Because of them and my best friend, I am starting to talk to someone.I am getting help so I can help my kids. I am finally going to reclaim my life that my mental health has so negatively impacted.

I was 6 years old when it happened. My life was completely shattered. When I was young, my life felt perfect. I had a loving father, mother, and amazing siblings, but that all changed when we learned that my father was diagnosed with colon cancer. He went through multiple treatments, and we even thought he was getting better. However, we later learned that he was too far gone. He passed away three days after my birthday. Whenever he was passing, I froze outside his room, alone, too afraid to go inside. I was not only devastated, but I never got to say goodbye. The man that took me to school in the morning, my rock, was gone. At the time, I believed that cancer ruined my life. Since then, I learned the hard way cancer changes lives. It doesn’t care about who you love, your feelings, your age, or time. It just takes the people you care about away. As a result of my father’s passing, I became depressed, my family dynamic changed, and my mother became verbally abusive towards myself and older sister. It was as if my mother felt like I loved my father more than her. For years, I was made to feel like I was never enough, and my father was not there to tell me otherwise. I stopped doing what I loved and stopped going after my dream of working at a museum as a result. On top of everything, we also never fully recovered financially. My father was the main earner of the family, so when he passed, paying all the bills was a struggle. I was just a kid at the time; I couldn’t help. Even as an adult, with a good job, it still isn’t enough because I was conditioned through verbal abuse to be dependent on my mother. She used the fact that I needed to pay off what my father left behind to make me stay with her and give her my money, or my father would be disappointed in me. She knew that I would do anything for him. This went on for years and continues to this day. It wasn't until my depression got worse, and my best friend was trying to help me, that I realized that I was still letting cancer and the loss of my father control my life. My friend helped me finally see my mother’s manipulation that I had overlooked because I was so mentally broken down from my loss. I realized this is not what my father would have wanted for me. I let grief shape me into someone that he would not have recognized. So, I decided to reclaim my life. Now, in Fall 2026, I will start getting my Master’s degree in History. I am finally following my dream. I am changing how cancer will affect my life. Yes, it caused me pain, but now I am turning it into purpose. Instead of holding me back, cancer is now teaching me to move forward even though it hurts, and I am finally learning what it means to live life to the fullest. Any money that I had went to my mother. Receiving the Sharra Rainbolt Memorial Scholarship will not only help me financially, but it will help remind me of why I’m making this change in my life. It will help me with my education and following my dream, knowing that I could never disappoint my father. I am learning to move forward. I am changing my story, and I hope my experience can help others change theirs too.

For most of my life, I grew up in a community and family that harshly criticized and misunderstood mental health. I saw how differently my classmates and friends were treated and judged by others in the community when they expressed their troubles. Some would be pushed around, bullied, and told to be silent because the others didn’t want to hear it. They saw it as attention-seeking; that what they were going through was not real, and that they needed to get over everything. Seeing how they were being treated by the community, I kept silent about what I was going through at home, afraid that I would be looked at the same way. The same could also be said about my family, especially my mother. I was adopted at a very young age. Deep down a feeling of being unwanted settled in my mind, but I did not think about it at the time. My family felt like home for a little while until my father passed away. It felt as if his passing changed how I was being treated. It made me wonder if my mother felt like I loved him more than her. As I grew up, the verbal abuse got worse, even to the point where I did not feel loved or wanted anymore. Soon, it came to a time where I was made to feel like a failure. It felt like I couldn’t do anything right. The older I got, I became a perfectionist to try to make her proud. However, even if I did something right, she would still look at me in disappointment because everything wasn’t done exactly how she wanted no matter the result. When I finally told her how I felt, she would only say “get over yourself” or “you’re full of it.” She would claim that she had depression too, but since mine wasn’t the same as hers, my feelings weren’t valid. In response, I learned to stay silent. Even my siblings wouldn’t help me. I felt alone, unwanted, and that I would never be accepted anywhere. I couldn't talk to anyone at home or at school. I went through this struggle alone throughout my high school and a majority of my college years. My mother made me think that I could never live on my own, so I couldn’t really get away from her. She always said that my jobs, even my dream job of working at a museum, weren’t real jobs. I learned to handle the verbal abuse on my own, telling myself that I was okay, even though I knew deep down that I wasn’t. I hated myself to the point that I wanted to die. I felt like I was never enough. I was afraid to talk to anyone, afraid that they would agree with my mother. It wasn’t until I was with my best friend in my 3rd year of college, and she noticed how different I was acting, that I told her everything. She was so supportive and understanding. I told her how I wanted to die, and she made me realize that I wasn’t really okay. She made me realize how life for her would be if I wasn’t around anymore, how important it is to talk to people. However, as much as I loved her, I didn’t take her advice at first. Still believing the things my mother put in my head, I was afraid, and everything got worse. Now, 4 years later, I am working at a school and aiming to get my masters degree. I am finally understanding that my best friend was right. I have so many students that are excited to see me everyday. I also have a group of wonderful students in color guard that purposefully take time out of their day to see if I am okay. Some even say that I am their favorite teacher. One student in particular makes sure to hug me everyday and see how I am. They trust me with things that they normally don’t want to tell anyone, and it makes me want to do whatever I can to help them whenever they need it, even though I did not get that help for the longest time. Because of them and my best friend, I am starting to talk to someone. I am getting help so I can help my kids. I want them to know that it is okay to seek help. I want to make sure that my students know that they have a safe space where they feel supported at all times. I am patient with them, and I listen so they know that they are not alone. By doing this, I am finally understanding that making and building relationships with others can help those around me on their journey. Finally, along my journey, I am learning and understanding many new lessons that I intend to use to help my students and others. First, talking to others is not a bad thing. There are people who are willing to listen. Maybe if we all work together, we can reduce the stigma of seeking help. Second, you are never alone; my students and my friends have taught me that. Lastly, I am hoping that my story shows others that you are not a failure, and that you can achieve anything. My goal for my future is to work at a museum, and I want to use my journey getting there to help and inspire others to seek help whenever they need it, and to not listen to others who want to tear them down.