As I begin the road to studying Nutrition and Human Development, I have observed how much my early life shaped my passions, actions, and therefore my career decisions. The art of cooking has always been very prevalent in my family, whether it was cooking breakfast together for a special occasion, or creating meal plans each week to ensure that everyone’s needs were met. Living in a household of eight, the importance of accommodating the varying nutritional needs of others was always emphasized. This knowledge along with my father’s Chilean cultural influence and my mother’s overflowing care in the kitchen made for an environment that encouraged the utmost care for one another. My base-line nutritional knowledge was forced to grow immensely when I was diagnosed with Type-1 Diabetes in my freshman year of high school. While the doctors told me that I would still be able to eat anything I wanted if it was accommodated with insulin, it became very obvious to me how certain foods affected my body. When I noticed a negative effect on my blood sugar levels after a meal, I would research to figure out why, to allow myself to either avoid it the next time or at least be prepared for it. Learning how to take better care of myself allowed me to be more present to my family, friends, and my community. I am a two-year member of the National Honor Society and frequently volunteer in local areas. I am also passionate about music and performing, holding leadership positions in multiple departments of the arts academy at my school. Through participating in concerts and musicals, I have not only observed the impact that art has on any person, but also learned the beauty of sharing experiences with others. This same idea applied to my realization that I share countless experiences with other chronically ill teenagers. Having a chronic illness can be one of the most isolating experiences, as it seems you are the only person in the world who understands your needs. This is what draws me to nutrition, because I can take on the role of helping Type 1 Diabetics understand their bodies from less of an intimidating, strictly medical level. I anticipate many obstacles in college due to my chronic illness. The science fields are always mentally and physically demanding, even more so with a body operating on a different schedule then most students. Along with the academics I will be moving away from home, which will force my to learn how to be my own caregiver in a completely new environment. Through determination and surrounding myself with reliable peers, I intend to pursue excellence regardless of these challenges. Sharing knowledge with others about how to take care of their health is such a valuable thing. I believe I can take on this role due to my efforts in the arts, my family, and my community. Meeting other Type 1 Diabetics has shown me the power of having such a personal thing in common with another, and the self-confidence that follows learning that you are not alone in your struggles. My dedication to helping others like me live out their fullest lives will be my driving force in furthering my academics.

Throughout the winter of 2021, I developed DKA, Diabetic Ketoacidosis, without my knowledge, or the knowledge of anyone around me. I was slowly losing my ability to do what I loved without feeling fatigued or sick. I stopped feeling my sense of self. On January 4th, 2022, my dad carried me to the car and took me to our local ER, as we were all desperate for a solution. The doctor told me I was just dehydrated and sent me home with a list of “Yes” foods, many of which were high in sugar, and “No” foods. I followed this list for the next four days, which only sent my body further down its deadly spiral. On January 9th I went back to the ER, and after a blood test I was asked if I had Type 1 Diabetes. With limited knowledge about the hereditary cause of Type 1 vs. causes of Type 2 displayed in media, I almost scoffed as I responded no. The nurse then turned to my mom and said, “Well she does now.” I was life flighted to the nearest children’s hospital. The next morning, I began my journey of learning how to keep my body alive. This included four days of training, all while learning to stand again, walk again, eat again. That whole month I was home from school, managing my blood sugar, sleeping, and trying to keep up with school. I was terrified of going back to school, chained by the fear of judgement or comments about the medical devices I now wore on my arms. After finally easing back into school and explaining my disease to all my friends and peers, it became a little easier. The doctors told me it would become second nature. While this was true, I never reached the finish line that my newly-diagnosed self had expected. Having a chronic illness means having to accept that recovery is not an option, as the issue will always be present. It is an ever-changing journey. As I look back almost three years later, I realize the silver lining of it all. Diabetes taught me resilience, strength, and patience. It taught me to stick up for myself when my teachers scolded me for being on my phone, and I had to explain I was just checking my blood sugar or giving myself insulin. Diabetes has given me friends, through interactions with diabetics in public who recognize me by my Dexcom. This taught me the power of having something in common with another human being; it automatically creates a strong connection. It sparked my fascination for human nutrition, how it can affect every Diabetic differently, and how much that contrasts with the average person’s body. Integrating these interests with my hobby of cooking helped me develop blood sugar balancing recipes that I hope to continue sharing with other diabetics. Diabetes also taught me the power of knowledge and understanding. I am determined to make experiences better for Type 1 Diabetic children who find themselves confused, frightened, and without correct knowledge of how our bodies work. I share my story whenever I can and explain my medical devices whenever necessary. Knowing that the people I educate will most likely meet another T1D someday, it gives me delight to think they will be able to understand their situation and be a comfort to those people. Nowadays, I light up when someone asks me “Why do you always wear that thing on your arm?”, because I believe the most painful stories can still have the most beautiful endings.