Growing up, I often felt like there was something wrong with me, even though I could not explain what it was. My parents told me I could talk to them about anything, but when I tried to express sadness or confusion, I was told I was too young to feel that way. Over time, I stopped trying. I learned how to smile when I was hurting, how to stay quiet when my thoughts became overwhelming, and how to carry emotions I did not yet have the words to understand. Many nights, I cried alone, convinced that what I felt was something I had to face by myself. Those experiences shaped not only my childhood, but also the way I saw myself. I grew up believing that my feelings were a burden, something to hide rather than something worthy of being heard. That belief affected my confidence, my sense of self-worth, and my ability to reach out for help. It took years for me to begin unlearning the idea that my emotions did not matter. Because of this, I plan to use my college education to give back to my community by becoming a psychologist who creates the kind of safe, understanding space I never had. I want to work especially with young people who feel dismissed, misunderstood, or afraid to speak, so they know their emotions are valid and that they deserve to be heard. I want to be the person who listens without judgment, helps them find the words for what they are feeling, and reminds them that they are not alone. Through my education, I will gain the knowledge and skills to support others with both empathy and effective care. I hope to bring mental health awareness into my community, reduce the stigma around asking for help, and make support more accessible for those who may feel invisible. My past does not define me, but it drives me. It has given me a deep understanding of what it means to feel unseen and a strong commitment to making sure others do not have to feel that way.

For as long as I can remember, I have felt different. Some of that difference came from struggles people could see, and some came from parts of myself I kept hidden. Both shaped who I am and why I am so passionate about writing. I did not learn how to read until I was 13 years old. For most of my childhood, I sat in classrooms feeling embarrassed and behind. When it was time to read out loud, my heart would pound so loudly I was sure everyone could hear it. I avoided eye contact and prayed the teacher would skip over me. I felt ashamed, like I was carrying a secret that proved I was not smart enough. Watching other students flip through books so easily made me question myself constantly. Around that same time, I was also becoming aware of another part of my identity. I am a closeted queer woman. Growing up, I always felt slightly out of place, like I was observing life from the outside. I noticed my feelings did not always match what was expected of me, but I did not feel safe or ready to express that. So I stayed quiet. Between struggling to read and hiding such a big part of myself, silence became something I was used to. When I turned 13, something in me shifted. I was tired of feeling powerless. I decided that if no one could teach me in the way I needed, I would teach myself. I started with whatever was around me. I read billboards while riding in the car. I studied cereal boxes at the breakfast table. I sounded out words slowly, sometimes repeating them until they finally made sense. It was frustrating, and there were nights I wanted to quit. But little by little, the words began to click. The moment I could truly read on my own changed my life. What once felt impossible became something I could not get enough of. I fell in love with books. I would stay up late reading, completely lost in stories. I could not put a book down even if I tried. Through reading, I found characters who felt different, misunderstood, or hidden in some way. Their stories made me feel seen in a way real life sometimes did not. That love for reading naturally turned into writing. Writing became my way of speaking when I did not feel brave enough to speak out loud. On paper, I could explore identity, belonging, and the complicated emotions I had buried for years. I could create characters who lived honestly, even when I was still learning how to do that myself. Writing gave me control over my narrative in a way life had not always allowed. I am currently writing a novel that I hope to publish within the next four years. It reflects the themes that have shaped me: resilience, self discovery, and the courage to exist fully. My challenges, both academic and personal, did not break me. They gave me perspective. They taught me empathy. Most importantly, they gave me a voice. Writing is not just something I enjoy. It is proof of how far I have come and a way to make sure no one who feels different has to feel alone.

I am a student who has grown through challenges and learned how to turn them into motivation. School has shaped me in many ways, not just academically but personally. I have learned that success is not always about being the fastest or the smartest in the room. Sometimes it is about refusing to give up when things feel impossible. One of my favorite hobbies is playing chess. I love how it forces me to slow down and think ahead. Every move matters, and one small mistake can change the entire game. Chess has taught me patience, strategy, and how to stay calm under pressure. It also connects to who I am academically because I enjoy problem solving and thinking critically. Another thing that is important to me is spending time with my older brother. We watch movies together, talk about the characters, and sometimes debate the endings. Those moments are simple, but they mean a lot. They remind me how important family support is and how powerful it is to have someone who listens. My academic journey has not been typical. I did not learn how to read until I was 13 years old. For years, I sat in classrooms feeling embarrassed and behind. I avoided eye contact so teachers would not call on me to read out loud. I felt ashamed and confused, wondering why something that seemed easy for everyone else felt impossible to me. Eventually, I decided I did not want to feel powerless anymore. I started teaching myself how to read by sounding out words on billboards, cereal boxes, and pieces of mail. I practiced every day, even when I felt frustrated. Slowly, things began to click. Learning to read at 13 was not just an academic milestone. It was the moment I realized I was capable of overcoming something that once felt impossible. After high school, I plan to attend a four-year university and major in child psychology. I want to understand how children think, learn, and process emotions. Growing up, I often felt like my feelings were dismissed or misunderstood. Because of that, I want to work with children and teenagers who may feel unheard. My goal is to become a psychologist who creates safe spaces for young people to express themselves without fear. If I could start my own charity, it would focus on children’s education. The mission would be to make sure that no child falls behind because they lack resources or support. I would serve students in underfunded communities by providing school supplies, nutritious breakfasts and lunches, and strong tutoring programs. Volunteers would help by organizing supply drives, mentoring students, assisting with reading practice, and offering after school tutoring. I would also want the charity to include literacy support for students who struggle the way I once did. I know how different my life might have been if I had someone guiding me when I was struggling to read. That is why giving back matters so much to me. My experiences have shaped my goals, my resilience, and my desire to help others succeed.

Growing up, I often felt unheard. When I tried to express sadness or frustration, I was told I was “too young” to feel that way. Over time, I learned to hide my emotions instead of understanding them. I struggled with feelings I now recognize as depression, but at the time I did not have the language or support to process them. Feeling dismissed left me questioning whether my emotions even mattered, and for years I carried that silence with me. As I got older, I began to notice how many people around me felt the same way. Friends would open up about feeling overwhelmed, anxious, or misunderstood at home. Some were afraid of being judged. Others simply did not know how to explain what they were feeling. Because I understood that loneliness, I made a conscious effort to be the kind of person who listens without judgment. Giving back to my community started in small but meaningful ways. I became someone my peers could trust. I checked in on friends who seemed distant. I stayed after school to talk when someone needed support. I reminded people that their feelings were valid, even if others did not understand them. Over time, I realized that support does not always require a title or position. It requires empathy and consistency. Being that steady presence for others has shaped me deeply. It taught me responsibility, patience, and emotional awareness. I have seen how one honest conversation can shift someone’s entire day. I have watched friends grow more confident simply because they felt heard. Those moments showed me that giving back is not always about grand gestures. Sometimes it is about creating a safe environment where people feel seen. These experiences directly influence my college educational goals. I plan to major in psychology because I want to understand mental health from both a scientific and human perspective. In college, I hope to study emotional development, trauma, and adolescent psychology. I want to participate in research, internships, and community outreach programs that focus on youth mental health. My goal is to combine lived experience with professional training so I can provide informed, ethical, and compassionate care. Ultimately, I hope to become a psychologist who works with children and teenagers. I want to create spaces where young people feel safe expressing emotions without fear of being dismissed. Giving back to my community has shown me that my experiences have value. They shaped my resilience and strengthened my empathy. College will allow me to expand the impact I am already making and turn the support I offer now into lifelong service to others.