Being a first-generation student means facing many “side-effects” that go unnoticed but deeply affect your identity. For a long time, I didn’t realize these challenges weren’t normal or healthy until I reached my lowest point from burnout. One of the struggles I faced was the shame of changing paths. I have immense respect for my parents, who have encouraged me to pursue higher education and sacrificed so much to make it possible. My father, a tech professional, encouraged me to pursue a career in technology. I was enamored with videogames and first encountered programming at a robotics summer camp before middle school. It seemed natural for me to study computer science, though anything beyond graduation felt too distant to imagine. What I didn't know at the time was how my early years of college would force me to rethink my entire future. In fall of 2022, I found myself in Mesa Community College’s greenhouse, working on an Honors project. Under the guidance of my professor, Dr. Arta, I tracked the germination of native and tropical milkweed seedlings. The experience was eye-opening, and I remember one moment clearly: Dr. Arta reminding me to use meters because “we are scientists, after all”. Something changed inside me upon hearing this, but I didn’t fully understand the significance until a year later, during the worst of my burnout after transferring to Northern Arizona University. Before transferring, I was accepted to a summer Research Experience for Undergraduates (REU) at NAU with the Center for Adaptable Western Landscapes. I worked with Catherine Gehring and PhD student Gillian Trimber, studying mycorrhizae and their interactions with grasses in Mesa Verde, Colorado. Surrounded by wonderful people in an inspiring environment, I felt motivated to learn and grow both intellectually and personally. Yet, despite these experiences, I struggled with my mental health. I had burnt myself out. I reached a point where I was unable to take care for myself, overwhelmed by exhaustion and self-doubt. I felt like a failure for wanting to change paths, for no longer being passionate about computer science, and for the guilt of needing financial support from my parents. There is a comfort in understanding the resilience and adaptability of plants. Although silent, plants are incredible teachers and storytellers to the observant. I understood that I, too, needed to adapt and change for the better. I was able to receive counseling through TRiO Student Support Services and learnt about burnout. Denying my curiosity for life on earth and forcing myself to take classes irrelevant to my interests exhausted my energy and my mental health. However, through my research experiences I understood the importance of using technology to your advantage in order to share and further scientific knowledge and research. I love technology and programming, but I also appreciate the world around me. Informatics became the bridge to combine my two interests. Today, I am focused on pursuing a career in bioinformatics. My goal is to work with the United States Geological Survey as a bioinformatics scientist, studying biological soil crusts to mitigate the effects of climate change from the droughts and soil erosion in the Southwest. To reach this goal, I am part of the first cohort of the Ecological and Social Science Training and Education (ESSTE) program, which provides mentorship and internship opportunities. Through ESSTE, I’ll apply my computational skills while contributing to ecological research. Although my path has been uncertain at times, I have adapted and stayed resilient through the changes in my educational journey. These struggles, and my mentors' support, have allowed me to grow and to pursue my passions.