For most of my life, I thought my value came from being “perfect Molly,” the girl who stayed positive, held everything together, and never let anyone see her crack. I was the teammate who cheered the loudest, the friend who noticed every shift in tone, and the student who pushed herself even when her brain worked differently from everyone else’s. But underneath all that positivity, I was fighting a mental battle I did not know how to name. It was depression, self doubt, and a crushing fear of disappointing the people around me. My mental health challenge grew quietly through years of volleyball. I trained tirelessly, running drills alone at night, studying the sport, and giving everything I had, only to be cut twice. When I finally made the A team and later varsity, I thought I had proven my worth. Then I broke my ankle. My dream of being recruited faded overnight, and even when I returned, I found myself slowly benched without explanation. Still, I stayed the same upbeat Molly, cheering my teammates on and supporting the girl who played over me. I told everyone “I believe in you,” even when inside, I did not believe in myself. When I was named Sportsman of the Year, I smiled, but the truth was that every disappointment had chipped away at my confidence. My positivity was genuine, but it also served as armor. It was not until a close friend told me that it was okay not to be perfect that I finally allowed myself to break that armor. For the first time, I admitted that the constant pressure I put on myself had turned into extreme depression. I learned to talk about my emotions rather than bury them. I learned that asking for help was not weakness. And I learned that joy is much stronger when it is honest, not forced. My personal mental health struggles connected deeply with the challenges in my family. My nephew Ryan, who has ADHD, mild autism, and defiance disorder, spent years being misunderstood and mislabeled. My mother struggles with bipolar disorder, and I have lost two loved ones to suicide. Mental health challenges were not distant problems. They were in my home, shaping my life every day. Watching the people I love suffer ignited a passion in me to understand the brain, to look deeper, and to fight for better treatment. This is why I want to become a neuropsychologist. Current mental health care relies too heavily on guesswork and prescriptions. Psychiatrists are the only doctors who do not examine the organ they treat. Dr. Daniel Amen has demonstrated that healing the brain requires studying it, understanding it, and addressing the root causes rather than merely masking symptoms. Mental health care can and should evolve, and I want to be part of that change. Now, I work toward overcoming my challenges by being open with friends, prioritizing my well-being, and embracing the idea that I do not need to be perfect to be worthy. Moving forward, I will support others the same way I always have, but with greater understanding. I will generate mental health awareness by continuing to speak openly, by encouraging others, and by being the voice that tells them the words that once saved me. I believe in you. My experiences on the court, in my family, and inside my own mind have shaped my purpose. I want to heal the minds that feel broken, advocate for those who feel invisible, and bring hope to people who need someone to believe in them. And I plan to be that someone.

Science is the foundation of progress, shaping the world through discovery, understanding, and innovation. To me, science represents curiosity with purpose, the desire to not just learn but to use knowledge to improve lives. My passion for science comes from a deep fascination with the human brain and a desire to change how mental health is treated. I plan to become a neuropsychologist, earning my Psy.D. to study how the brain functions and heals. My dream is to open a clinic that uses brain scans and natural restoration methods to help people with conditions such as dementia, Alzheimer’s, and schizophrenia. Science gives me the tools to make that dream a reality. Leadership and science truly work hand in hand to create change. A true leader not only learns but also inspires others to think critically and act compassionately. Through leadership, science becomes more than research; it becomes a movement for progress. I have seen the power of science and leadership in my own life through Dr. Daniel Amen’s work. He studies the brain by looking directly at it, proving that no brain is beyond repair. His leadership in neuroscience challenges traditional methods and gives people hope for recovery. I hope to follow that example by leading research that promotes healing without over reliance on medication. Science has the power to shape the future, but it takes leaders with vision to guide it in the right direction. As I pursue a career in neuropsychology, I want to use leadership to bridge the gap between scientific research and real human understanding. My goal is to bring compassion back into mental health care by using science to restore both the brain and the person behind it. Leadership gives science purpose, and science gives leadership power. Together, they have the ability to create a future where every mind, no matter how complex, can heal and thrive.

Consistently from a young age all I hear from parents, teachers, and trusted adults is to pick a study that will be successful and in high demand in the future, to which everyone becomes overwhelmingly hyperfocused on the growth and bloom of technology simultaneously forgetting the value of nourishing the mind. Mental health should be prioritized, instead there blossoms an epidemic of individuals struggling alone, scared to reach out, or unable to receive proper care. This “epidemic” isn’t abstract to me, it’s personal. My life has been shaped by the struggles of those I love, fueling a fire within me to become a beacon of understanding and support for others. At three years old, I was blessed to become an aunt of a sweet boy named Ryan. But my sister’s battle with addiction during her pregnancy cast a shadow we couldn’t yet see. As Ryan and I grew up together, more like siblings than aunt and nephew, I noticed how his mind worked differently. His defiance, his boundless energy, his unique way of seeing the world, later diagnosed as defiance disorder, ADHD, and mild autism, set him apart. As he gets older he struggles in school, he was held back, expelled, and even turned to self-harm. They labeled him “different,” “unwanted,” and handed him prescriptions instead of hope. No one took the time to unravel the beauty of his mind or show him how to wield it as a strength and not label it as his enemy. Watching him struggle, I found myself captivated by his mind, determined to understand and advocate for him. My family’s story doesn’t end with Ryan. I’ve witnessed my mother grapple with bipolar disorder, two loved ones lost to suicide, and another sister fight depression and anxiety. As the youngest, I observed this chaos with a burning question as to how their minds truly work, and how can I help lighten their load? This constant question became my passion. Through my studies, I have read multiple self help books and have watched multitude of videos on the brain to the point where I lust for further knowledge that I could only receive in a degree specializing in mental health. A degree in mental health isn’t just a goal as to me it’s a calling to decode the mysteries of the mind and offer others the compassion they deserve. My vision is clear as I want to transform lives in my community, especially for teens and young adults like Ryan. I dream of opening a facility where they feel seen, not judged; understood, not labeled. A place where their minds are celebrated as unique, not broken. Through my education, I’ll gain the tools to provide innovative, empathetic care, ensuring no one feels alone in their struggles. I carry Ryan’s resilience, my family’s pain, and my own unwavering hope into my journey. My purpose is to be the guide I wish my family and I had, proving that every mind, no matter how complex, deserves to be nurtured and understood.