For my first 14 years, I faced the world with fear. In my baby pictures hanging unevenly throughout the hallway of my childhood home, you can see that I never smiled. Every family member who met me thought seeing me hide behind my mother with a pout was adorable. That was until I got older, and people lost patience with my fear. The constant frown and anxious expression made me seem unapproachable, and I felt those around me were growing frustrated. I viewed the world differently and fought daily to navigate life in a way that worked for me. For years, I sat through doctor visits and tests in search of an answer to the mysterious stomachaches that kept me home from school and activities. I’d try to push through the fear, but I often worried myself sick. I remember a swimming lesson when I was younger: I was terrified of being the oldest in the class, so I ran away, and my dad eventually caught up to me and took me home. I thought my lack of reminders kept me from lessons, but hearing my dad’s version changed my childhood perception. While my worries feel less extreme now, I realize they still influence who I am. At 14, I finally received a diagnosis: Severe Generalized Anxiety Disorder. With it came medication and a new perspective. I still experienced anxiety, but I became more confident, bubbly, and outgoing. I made friends and learned new ways to cope with my feelings. My growth began slowly but accelerated when I joined a class for growing communicators. The class "Restorative Practices & Peer Mediation" taught me conflict resolution, positive communication, and empathy. I became more aware of the difficulties others face, which strengthened my ability to understand different perspectives. I also discovered that my life’s purpose was to find happiness and help others do the same. Through this class, I learned that to value my own happiness, I must also value the happiness of those around me. This scholarship will help me continue my education and pursue a career where I can empower others to overcome their challenges, just as I’ve learned to. I plan to study business with a focus on leadership and conflict resolution. This scholarship will provide the resources I need to refine my skills and deepen my understanding, setting me on the path to creating positive, inclusive environments where others can grow. To pay it forward, I plan to use my experiences to support others who face similar struggles. Whether through mentorship or community service, I want to offer compassion and understanding, helping others find their confidence and joy. By lifting people up, I hope to contribute to a world where everyone has the opportunity to thrive.

For my first 14 years, I faced the world with fear. In my baby pictures hanging unevenly throughout the hallway of my childhood home, I never smiled. Every family member who met me thought seeing me hide behind my mother with a pout glued to my mouth was adorable. That was until I got older, and people lost patience with my fear of practically everything. The stagnant frown and face of concern made me unapproachable, and I felt like those around me were growing frustrated. I viewed the world differently from everyone else, and I fought daily to navigate life in ways that worked for me. For years, I sat through doctors' visits and blood tests in search of an answer - any answer to the mysterious stomach aches that would keep me home from school, events, and any activities that scared me. I’d always make an effort to fight through the fear, not wanting to miss out on the next activity, but I’d often worry myself to the point of sickness until I couldn’t fight it anymore. Once, my dad brought me to swimming lessons. I was still young but incredibly nervous about being the oldest in the class. The pool building was attached to a large park, and as the car rolled to a stop outside of the pool, I ran for it. As I wove through the trees, tears streaming down my face - my dad finally caught up to me. He must’ve seen the terror on my face because he hugged me, brought me home, and I never went to a swimming lesson again. When my dad recalled this story, I was confused. I remembered a different story, one where, in a blur, my dad magically took home. I remember making a promise to myself never to remind him about future swimming lessons, and miraculously, I never had another lesson. I thought my lack of reminders was responsible, so hearing my dad’s version of the story changed my childhood perception. While my worries no longer feel as extreme, I realize they still play a big part in who I am. When I was 14 and entering high school, I received a diagnosis. “Severe Generalized Anxiety Disorder”. With it came a fancy new medication that I now took every night. Once I received my diagnosis and medication, I felt as if I barely recognized myself. I still suffered from anxiety, but I had become optimistic, bubbly, even confident. For the first time, I no longer felt shy and began to show my extroverted side. I made friends in high school, and with help from family, and peer, I learned new ways to work around my anxious feelings. My growth in the first year began slowly but skyrocketed when I got invited to join a class for growing communicators. The class I joined was “Restorative Practices & Peer Mediation.” There, I learned about conflict resolution, positive communication, and how to understand myself and others. This class introduced me to values I didn’t know I had. Growing up with anxiety, I often fixated on how difficult life was for people in different situations. These fixations strengthened my empathy and heightened my ability to see things from other perspectives. This class helped me understand my emotions and how meaningful my relationships were. More than anything, I gained a new philosophy to live by. Before I received any help, school was a place of stress and fear to me. Now that I'm overcoming my anxiety, I can't wait to move out, make new friends, and start my adult life in college.

I aspire to pursue a career in the real estate field. I am passionate about architecture, interior design, real estate, and really anything home-related. I've always had a passion for interior design. Growing up, my mom owned a home decor business. The shop was a short walk from my school, and I would stay there while my mom worked after school. HGTV, the home improvement network, always played on my TV as it was my mom's favorite show. We began visiting open houses on weekends only to admire their interiors. To be surrounded by beautiful decor and architecture every day is a dream of mine, and helping people find happiness and comfort in their homes would make me incredibly happy. By working in real estate, I would have the opportunity to meet families and make their dreams of the perfect home come true. A home is such an essential part of a person's life. Homes bring people together; they provide safety and comfort for many. This scholarship would help me pay for a 4-year bachelor's degree in business, which would mean so much to me and to my mother, who never had a college education and who has pushed me to achieve what she wished she would’ve. My mom has inspired my career aspirations, as she is a skilled interior decorator. Unfortunately, she could not pursue her career aspirations because without earning a college degree, companies would not hire her despite her experience and skills. My mom's dissatisfaction with her current career has motivated me to achieve the higher education I know she wants. I've realized that interior decorating will always be something I love and thrive in doing. Through this passion, I have found an eye for real estate and decor, and I dream of pursuing a career in the real estate field to be surrounded by decor and architecture and to bring people happiness in their new homes. This scholarship money would go towards my education to pursue a career I am passionate about, which will make me and others love life.

For my first 14 years, I faced the world with fear. In my baby pictures hanging unevenly throughout the hallway of my childhood home, you can see that I never smiled. Every family member who met me thought seeing me hide behind my mother with a pout glued to my mouth was adorable. That was until I got older, and people lost patience with my fear of practically everything. The stagnant frown and face of concern made me unapproachable, and I felt like those around me were growing frustrated. I viewed the world differently from everyone else, and I fought daily to navigate life in ways that worked for me. For years, I sat through doctors' visits and blood tests in search of an answer - any answer to the mysterious stomach aches that would keep me home from school, events, and any activities that scared me. I’d make an effort to fight through the fear, not wanting to miss out on the next activity, but I’d often worry myself to the point of sickness until I couldn’t fight it anymore. When I was eight, my dad brought me to swimming lessons, and I was incredibly nervous about being the oldest in the class. The pool building was attached to a large park, and as the car stopped outside of the pool, I ran for it. As I wove through the trees, tears streaming down my face - my dad finally caught up to me. He must’ve seen the terror on my face because he hugged me, brought me home, and I never went to a swimming lesson again. When my dad recalled this story, I was confused. I remembered a different story, one where, in a blur, my dad magically took home. I remember making a promise to myself never to remind him about future swimming lessons, and miraculously, I never had a lesson again. While my worries no longer feel as extreme, I realize they still play a big part in who I am. When I was 14 and entering high school, I received a diagnosis. “Severe Generalized Anxiety Disorder”. With it came a fancy new medication that I now took every night. After receiving my diagnosis and medication, I felt as if I barely recognized myself. I still suffered from anxiety, but I had become optimistic, bubbly, and even confident. I didn't feel shy for the first time and began to show my extroverted side. I made friends in high school, and with help from my family, peers, and teachers, I learned new ways to work around my anxious feelings. My growth in the first year began slowly but skyrocketed by the second year when I got invited to join a class for growing communicators. I joined the class “Restorative Practices & Peer Mediation.” I learned conflict resolution, positive communication, and understanding myself and others. This class introduced me to values I didn’t know I had. Growing up with anxiety, I often fixated on how difficult life was for people in different situations. These fixations strengthened my empathy and ability to see things from other perspectives. This class helped me understand my emotions and how meaningful my relationships were. More than anything, I gained a new philosophy to live by. I discovered the purpose of my life: to be happy and help others find their happiness. After years of struggling to find my joy, I realized that keeping hold of it was most important to me, and if I value my happiness, then I have to value the happiness of those around me as well.

The concept of success is subjective. How can people strive for success, fighting others tooth and nail to achieve it without opening their eyes to see that they're all looking for something different? If I asked my mom, she would tell me that success is to be surrounded by love. If I asked my dad, he’d say that success is knowledge and a good education. My sister would probably tell me that success is a strong career and lots of money. In school, I was taught that you must be successful to be satisfied in life. It is left up to us to assume what being successful is, and we mirror the people we see in the media: prosperous businessmen, politicians, actors, and doctors. But that is only their version of success. What has made a billionaire “successful” and happy won’t work the same for every person. To be successful is to follow a path of your own making, one built by life experiences and passion. I’ve had a lot of time to dream up whatever success means to me. Before writing this paper, I hadn’t thought about it at all. However, I think about the meaning of life regularly - more than I probably should. I have a severe anxiety disorder that causes me to overthink quite often. Through my anxiety-induced philosophical revelations, I found that the meaning of life to me is to be happy and to make others happy. When I think about success, I mainly consider being successful in my pursuit of happiness. I’ve been successful in many things, especially academically. Though I have a 4.0 GPA, I’ve achieved a five and a four on my AP exams, and I’ve worked incredibly hard to get here; my success never brought me long-term happiness. I worked towards my grades compulsively, knowing they would someday bring me the scholarships I needed to pursue my dreams. I felt accomplished, sure, but these achievements haven’t taken me anywhere; I’m still just sitting at my computer, competing with thousands of others for money to get me where I need to be. I’ve held a job for two years now with hopes of boosting my chances for aid; my mom tells me she’s proud; she knows how hard I work, but even her praise couldn’t change how useless my efforts feel. I don’t feel successful because of my grades or work ethic; sometimes, I feel like I wasted my time working hard to achieve nothing. What I count as my major successes may look different from the typical answers. I felt successful when my discount at work helped save my family money on groceries each week. I felt successful when my grandmother with dementia remembered my name on her own for the first time, months after she moved in when I began to care for her. I felt successful when I helped my best friend fighting depression get to school each day and get his grades up in time for graduation. I felt successful when I got my sister, who has severe ADHD, to go to the doctor to get medication after years of putting it off. I felt successful when I convinced my dad to start therapy. I feel successful whenever I take strides with my communication skills growing as a person. Of course, there have been typical successes in my life, too. While working with Comminicare Student Grant Makers, my team raised forty-five thousand dollars over three years for different nonprofits. We focused on organizations that dealt with climate and houselessness issues and used restorative solutions. I felt successful seeing my work benefit others and contribute to a positive change. I began this program through a Restorative Justice & Peer Mediation class I enrolled in sophomore year. In this class, I developed plans for school-wide Restorative Justice circles to build a stronger classroom community while addressing critical emotional control and communication issues. I felt successful when, after our first try, the principal approved these circles to be implemented each quarter. Since then, I have created over five Restorative Justice circles run school-wide, and I felt incredibly successful after receiving overwhelmingly positive feedback from students around the school. Throughout writing this, I kept asking for advice, wondering if my version of success was too obscure and if I had missed the point of the topic entirely. For the past few nights, I’ve thought of this essay as I fell asleep, slowly learning whether I received the scholarship or not, realizing what success is to me is invaluable. I know that with this scholarship, I’ll continue to find my success through helping others and contributing to my community while I pursue higher education at the University of Oregon. Thank you for allowing me to reflect on my complicated relationship with success.

I participated in a "Restorative Justice & Peer Mediation" class my sophomore year. This class introduced ideas on communication styles that highlight forgiveness and understanding between one another. We learned conflict resolution strategies and how common communication strategies can create cultural barriers. With this knowledge, we aimed to build a different culture in our school community. Working as a class, we developed the idea of facilitating Restorative Justice circles throughout every classroom in our school. A Restorative Justice circle is a group discussion where we set chairs up in a circle, and each person has the opportunity to answer the discussion topic for that "round." Our Restorative Justice circles typically have 4-6 rounds, with at least two mediators present. Ultimately, the goal was to build a strong classroom community, and I took the lead in a small group tasked with designing each round of the circles. After speaking with the principal, we realized how challenging scheduling and logistics would be to ensure every student gets a Restorative Justice circle in one class. We faced this challenge head-on and spent our nights working through scheduling and recruiting facilitators. Finally, the day arrived for every student to participate in a Restorative Justice circle, mediated personally by a Restorative Justice class student. We designed the circles around community building and spoke in classes about ways our school needed improvement. Student feedback seemed overwhelmingly positive, and the principal agreed to implement them once each quarter. Since my first school-wide circle in my sophomore year, I have created over five other restorative justice circles themed around the community and emotional well-being that have been presented school-wide. I learned how rewarding restorative practices can be and found a passion for utilizing and educating people on restorative communication strategies. These classes changed my outlook on life and my value for community. I hope to continue spreading restorative practices throughout college and look forward to creating a community of expert communicators working hard for our community.

I've always had a passion for real estate. Growing up, my mom owned a home decor business, which she opened the year after I was born. The shop was a short walk from my elementary school, and I spent days after school helping there with my sister. HGTV, the home improvement network, played on my TV at all times of the day as it was my mom's favorite show. In elementary school, my mom and I began visiting open houses on weekends to admire the homes in our area. In the summer, NorthWest Naturals hosts an annual "street of dreams," where architects and builders showcase newly constructed multi-million dollar mansions on tour for the public. My mom and I have gone every year since I was 10. I realized that, growing up in this environment, real estate will always be something I love and have a thriving interest in. Though an obscure hobby, this interest comes naturally to me as my mother raised me with this passion in my home and heart. I aspire to pursue a career in the real estate field. I am passionate about architecture, interior design, real estate, and really anything home-related. To be surrounded by beautiful decor and architecture every day is a dream of mine, and helping people find happiness and comfort in their spaces would make me incredibly happy. By working in real estate, I would have the opportunity to meet individuals and make their dreams of the perfect home come true. Your home environment is such an essential part of a person's life. These spaces bring people together; they provide safety and comfort for many. This scholarship would help me pay for a 4-year bachelor's degree in business, which would mean so much to me and to my mother, who never had a college education and who has pushed me to achieve what she wished she would’ve. My mom has inspired my career aspirations, as she is a skilled interior decorator. Unfortunately, she could not pursue her career aspirations because without earning a college degree, companies would not hire her despite her experience and skills. Watching my mom being unsatisfied in her current career has motivated me to achieve the higher education that I know she wants for me. This scholarship money would go towards my education so that I can pursue a career that I am passionate about and that will make me and others love life.

In my sophomore year, I participated in a newly introduced class, "Restorative Justice & Peer Mediation." My history teacher the previous year, Mr. Gadbow, had called me and a select few students out of class; he told us that we were strong communicators and would make valuable additions to his new class. One that would introduce ideas on communication styles that highlight forgiveness and understanding between one another. In my junior year, I decided to take the class again. I walked into my fourth-period class, and my teacher, Mr. Gadbow, told us to sit down and take out our notebooks. This was unusual only because this was a Restorative Justice class, and we typically started class sitting in a circle, taking turns in a classwide discussion. The slide show clicked on as I sat in class; white light lit the dim room, and the screen read “I-messages Day 1”. We learned about positive listening methods, beginning with a quote from Edward W. Said: “Much as I have no wish to hurt anyone’s feelings, my first obligation has not been to be nice but to be true to my perhaps peculiar memories, experiences, and feelings.” The mood grew heavy as this set the tone for the class. My interest peaked, and soon, pencils were scribbling as my teacher explained how trauma, culture, and biases affect our listening. Mr Gadbow had included quotes from people who inspire him in the presentation, and I couldn’t get the line, “What we think we hear is often quite different from what was said,” out of my head. A list of things that had to be present in the conversation was projected on the board to preface the activity. First, both parties must accept a problem; there is little room to grow if acceptance isn't present. Withholding blame, judgments, rewards, or agreement was another critical factor; “just listen.” Most importantly, I-messages should always happen sitting eye to eye, so one person isn’t standing over the other; they are at the same level. The conversation format begins with the exact behavior, followed by the direct result, and ends by stating how you felt. This pattern felt robotic, and I couldn’t understand why we must communicate in this odd way. Sensing my unease, Mr Gadbow explained that this format makes the conversation comfortable and open. By beginning with an exact behavior rather than how you feel, the person feels less attacked, and following it with how it affected you helps the receiver see things from your perspective. Then, the last and most essential rule: never blame or say, “You made me feel.” Instead, take accountability for your emotions by saying, “I felt.” I’m now in my third year of Restorative Justice class, and I've never forgotten the process of sending an I-message. This process has helped me through many communication issues. My friends often ask me for advice, and I love to share my strategies with anyone who listens. I’m always looking for ways to improve; helping others with their unique situations improves my community's communication skills and is the perfect challenge to further my own. Healthy communication is part of my daily life; it’s become a lifestyle I share with my friends and family. This is thanks to my teacher, who saw something I didn't yet recognize in myself and helped me navigate the process of learning communication skills while still learning about myself.

I've always had a passion for real estate. Growing up, my mom owned a home decor business, which she opened the year after I was born. The shop was a short walk from my elementary school, and I spent days after school helping there with my sister. HGTV, the home improvement network, played on my TV at all times of the day as it was my mom's favorite show. In elementary school, my mom and I began visiting open houses on weekends to admire the homes in our area. In the summer, NorthWest Naturals hosts an annual "street of dreams," where architects and builders showcase newly constructed multi-million dollar mansions on tour for the public. My mom and I have gone every year since I was 10. I realized that, growing up in this environment, real estate will always be something I love and have a thriving interest in. Though an obscure hobby, this interest comes naturally to me as my mother raised me with this passion in my home and heart. I aspire to pursue a career in the real estate field. I am passionate about architecture, interior design, real estate, and really anything home-related. To be surrounded by beautiful decor and architecture every day is a dream of mine, and helping people find happiness and comfort in their spaces would make me incredibly happy. By working in real estate, I would have the opportunity to meet individuals and make their dreams of the perfect space come true. Your environment is such an essential part of a person's life. These spaces bring people together; they provide safety and comfort for many. This scholarship would help me pay for a 4-year bachelor's degree in business, which would mean so much to me and to my mother, who never had a college education and who has pushed me to achieve what she wished she would’ve. My mom has inspired my career aspirations, as she is a skilled interior decorator. Unfortunately, she could not pursue her career aspirations because without earning a college degree, companies would not hire her despite her experience and skills. Watching my mom being unsatisfied in her current career has motivated me to achieve the higher education that I know she wants for me. This scholarship money would go towards my education so that I can pursue a career that I am passionate about and that will make me and others love life.

For my first 14 years, I faced the world with fear. In my baby pictures hanging unevenly throughout the hallway of my childhood home, I never smiled. Every family member who met me thought seeing me hide behind my mother with a pout glued to my mouth was adorable. That was until I got older, and people lost patience with my fear of practically everything. The stagnant frown and face of concern made me unapproachable, and I felt like those around me were growing frustrated. I viewed the world differently from everyone else, and I fought daily to navigate life in ways that worked for me. For years, I sat through doctors' visits and blood tests in search of an answer - any answer to the mysterious stomach aches that would keep me home from school, events, and any activities that scared me. I’d always make an effort to fight through the fear, not wanting to miss out on the next activity, but I’d often worry myself to the point of sickness until I couldn’t fight it anymore. Once, my dad brought me to swimming lessons. I was still young but incredibly nervous about being the oldest in the class. The pool building was attached to a large park, and as the car rolled to a stop outside of the pool, I ran for it. As I wove through the trees, tears streaming down my face - my dad finally caught up to me. He must’ve seen the terror on my face because he hugged me, brought me home, and I never went to a swimming lesson again. When my dad recalled this story, I was confused. I remembered a different story, one where, in a blur, my dad magically took home. I remember making a promise to myself never to remind him about future swimming lessons, and miraculously, I never had another lesson. I thought my lack of reminders was responsible, so hearing my dad’s version of the story changed my childhood perception. While my worries no longer feel as extreme, I realize they still play a big part in who I am. When I was 14 and entering high school, I received a diagnosis. “Severe Generalized Anxiety Disorder”. With it came a fancy new medication that I now took every night. Once I received my diagnosis and medication, I felt as if I barely recognized myself. I still suffered from anxiety, but I had become optimistic, bubbly, even confident. For the first time, I no longer felt shy and began to show my extroverted side. I made friends in high school, and with help from family, and peer, I learned new ways to work around my anxious feelings. My growth in the first year began slowly but skyrocketed when I got invited to join a class for growing communicators. The class I joined was “Restorative Practices & Peer Mediation.” There, I learned about conflict resolution, positive communication, and how to understand myself and others. This class introduced me to values I didn’t know I had. Growing up with anxiety, I often fixated on how difficult life was for people in different situations. These fixations strengthened my empathy and heightened my ability to see things from other perspectives. This class helped me understand my emotions and how meaningful my relationships were. More than anything, I gained a new philosophy to live by. Before I received any help, school was a place of stress and fear to me. Now that I'm overcoming my anxiety, I can't wait to move out, make new friends, and start my adult life in college.

For my first 14 years, I faced the world with fear. In my baby pictures hanging unevenly throughout the hallway of my childhood home, you can see that I never smiled. Every family member who met me thought seeing me hide behind my mother with a pout glued to my mouth was adorable. That was until I got older, and people lost patience with my fear of practically everything. The stagnant frown and face of concern made me unapproachable, and I felt like those around me were growing frustrated. I viewed the world differently from everyone else, and I fought daily to navigate life in ways that worked for me. For years, I sat through doctors' visits and blood tests in search of an answer - any answer to the mysterious stomach aches that would keep me home from school, events, and any activities that scared me. I’d always make an effort to fight through the fear, not wanting to miss out on the next activity, but I’d often worry myself to the point of sickness until I couldn’t fight it anymore. Once, my dad brought me to swimming lessons. I was still young but incredibly nervous about being the oldest in the class. The pool building was attached to a large park, and as the car rolled to a stop outside of the pool, I ran for it. As I wove through the trees, tears streaming down my face - my dad finally caught up to me. He must’ve seen the terror on my face because he hugged me, brought me home, and I never went to a swimming lesson again. When my dad recalled this story, I was confused. I remembered a different story, one where, in a blur, my dad magically took home. I remember making a promise to myself never to remind him about future swimming lessons, and miraculously, I never had a lesson again. I thought my lack of reminders was responsible, so hearing my dad’s version of the story changed my childhood perception. While my worries no longer feel as extreme, I realize they still play a big part in who I am. When I was 14 and entering high school, I finally received a diagnosis. “Severe Generalized Anxiety Disorder”. With it came a fancy new medication that I now took every night. Once I received my diagnosis and medication, I felt as if I barely recognized myself. I still suffered from anxiety, but I had become optimistic, bubbly, and even confident. For the first time, I no longer felt shy and began to show my extroverted side. I made friends in high school, and with help from my family, peers, and teachers, I learned new ways to work around my anxious feelings. My growth in the first year began slowly but skyrocketed by the second year when I got invited to join a class for growing communicators. The class I joined was “Restorative Practices & Peer Mediation.” There, I learned about conflict resolution, positive communication, and how to understand myself and others. This class introduced me to values I didn’t know I had. Growing up with anxiety, I often fixated on how difficult life was for people in different situations. These fixations strengthened my empathy and heightened my ability to see things from other perspectives. This class helped me understand my emotions and how meaningful my relationships were. More than anything, I gained a new philosophy to live by. After taking this class, I discovered the purpose of my life: to be happy and help others find their happiness. After years of struggling to find my joy, I realized that keeping hold of it was most important to me, and if I value my happiness, then I have to value the happiness of those around me as well.

For my first 14 years, I faced the world with fear. In my baby pictures hanging unevenly throughout the hallway of my childhood home, you can see that I never smiled. Every family member who met me thought seeing me hide behind my mother with a pout glued to my mouth was adorable. That was until I got older, and people lost patience with my fear of practically everything. The stagnant frown and face of concern made me unapproachable, and I felt like those around me were growing frustrated. I viewed the world differently from everyone else, and I fought daily to navigate life in ways that worked for me. For years, I sat through doctors' visits and blood tests in search of an answer - any answer to the mysterious stomach aches that would keep me home from school, events, and any activities that scared me. I’d always make an effort to fight through the fear, not wanting to miss out on the next activity, but I’d often worry myself to the point of sickness until I couldn’t fight it anymore. Once, my dad brought me to swimming lessons. I was still young but incredibly nervous about being the oldest in the class. The pool building was attached to a large park, and as the car rolled to a stop outside of the pool, I ran for it. As I wove through the trees, tears streaming down my face - my dad finally caught up to me. He must’ve seen the terror on my face because he hugged me, brought me home, and I never went to a swimming lesson again. When my dad recalled this story, I was confused. I remembered a different story, one where, in a blur, my dad magically took home. I remember making a promise to myself never to remind him about future swimming lessons, and miraculously, I never had a lesson again. I thought my lack of reminders was responsible, so hearing my dad’s version of the story changed my childhood perception. While my worries no longer feel as extreme, I realize they still play a big part in who I am. When I was 14 and entering high school, I finally received a diagnosis. “Severe Generalized Anxiety Disorder”. With it came a fancy new medication that I now took every night. Once I received my diagnosis and medication, I felt as if I barely recognized myself. I still suffered from anxiety, but I had become optimistic, bubbly, and even confident. For the first time, I no longer felt shy and began to show my extroverted side. I made friends in high school, and with help from my family, peers, and teachers, I learned new ways to work around my anxious feelings. My growth in the first year began slowly but skyrocketed by the second year when I got invited to join a class for growing communicators. The class I joined was “Restorative Practices & Peer Mediation.” There, I learned about conflict resolution, positive communication, and how to understand myself and others. This class introduced me to values I didn’t know I had. Growing up with anxiety, I often fixated on how difficult life was for people in different situations. These fixations strengthened my empathy and heightened my ability to see things from other perspectives. This class helped me understand my emotions and how meaningful my relationships were. More than anything, I gained a new philosophy to live by. After taking this class, I discovered the purpose of my life: to be happy and help others find their happiness. After years of struggling to find my joy, I realized that keeping hold of it was most important to me, and if I value my happiness, then I have to value the happiness of those around me as well.