I apply creativity in my life through several different forms. Creativity exists in my life through social media, personal hobbies, and my appearance. On social media, specifically the platform TikTok, I make short videos often times expressing certain aspects of my life that I find humor in and that others find relatable. Social media somewhat performs as an outlet in my life because I receive views just for showcasing my thoughts which brings me a sense of belonging. My personal hobbies, specifically photography, allow me to create a form of art that represents an internal part of who I am as a person. Because there are already various photographers, it's difficult to stand out. However, I like to elect settings that make my pictures reflect me in some way. For instance, sometimes I add a light purple hue overlay since I firmly believe that purple is one of the most eye-appealing colors there is. I also focus on capturing certain frames that focus on something random rather than something that would normally capture the eye's attention. In doing so, I bring recognition to the not-so-pleasant parts of the world and tell a story through shades, blur, focal length, etc. I believe that my appearance is a prominent way I apply creativity in my life and is probably one of my favorite forms of creativity. I like to see myself as an avatar, similar to characters one chooses to identify themselves with within a video game. Perceiving my body as my avatar enforces the idea that I can choose how the world sees me. I love doing my makeup in a specific way with specific products that enhance my features. I also like wearing specific clothes to match a specific style. This perception creates a state of uniqueness in my life.

Throughout middle school and my first years of high school, I experienced undiagnosed depression and extreme anxiety. My parents refused to believe that such things could be a concern at such a young age. With consistent comments like, “You have nothing to be stressed about. You aren’t paying bills”, they were unconsciously invalidating my feelings all the time. Because of this, I was unable to receive professional help/attention which affected my ability to prioritize my education. I felt that I was not capable of succeeding in life, even though I was only in grade 7. I forced the idea into my head that I was being held under a lot of pressure because of my parents’ mistakes. My parents had me at a young age and dropped out of high school to raise me; so, I felt that they looked at me and thought I would do the same. It felt like they weren’t giving me a chance to make decisions for myself, like they could see my future. I dealt with my feelings in silence for years. However, one day, my parents brought home what appeared to be a feast split into portions and wrapped into several individual packages. They took me to our local park and pointed out some homeless people. I was asked to give each of them a package of food and truthfully, I was irritated at first. They made me do this continuously and at different locations. However, there was this little girl smiling at me as I handed the food to her mother. I could see her whispering something in her mother’s ear, and then I found myself wrapped in her short arms. This moment stood out to me the most, and it sent signals of joy straight to my heart. I could feel the strings detach from my organs. I considered it to be a temporary feeling, but temporary or not, I portrayed it as a temporary solution. I became devoted to doing good deeds like this, and it would kill two birds with one stone after all. Because of covid, I participated in virtual contributions such as sending letters to children at the hospital, sending Christmas gifts to children, and giving out care packages to young girls. I found that the smiles I put on children’s faces fulfilled me. I grew passionate. Now, as covid has calmed down, I am able to interact again with people face to face and experience a truly delightful side of the world. I believe that my mental health journey is an integral part of my identity and has highlighted one of my great passions in life, to help the unfortunate in any way that I can. I have proclaimed that to be my greatest desire. From this experience, I believe that it has shown me just how strong I am. Overcoming these disorders has enforced vitality, persistence, confidence, and determination in my life. Throughout all the miserable times I experienced, I never gave up on myself and continued to push myself despite everything I endured. I perceive this to be a great strength of mine that has only benefited me in finding myself and I am truly proud of who I am becoming. I have successfully emerged from it and have gained a new passion doing so: giving back to the unfortunate.

Throughout middle school and my first years of high school, I experienced undiagnosed depression and extreme anxiety. My parents refused to believe that such things could be a concern at such a young age. With consistent comments like, “You have nothing to be stressed about. You aren’t paying bills”, they were unconsciously invalidating my feelings all the time. Because of this, I was unable to receive professional help/attention which affected my ability to prioritize my education. I felt that I was not capable of succeeding in life, even though I was only in grade 7. I forced the idea into my head that I was being held under a lot of pressure because of my parents’ mistakes. My parents had me at a young age and dropped out of high school to raise me; so, I felt that they looked at me and thought I would do the same. It felt like they weren’t giving me a chance to make decisions for myself, like they could see my future. I dealt with my feelings in silence for years. However, one day, my parents brought home what appeared to be a feast split into portions and wrapped into several individual packages. They took me to our local park and pointed out some homeless people. I was asked to give each of them a package of food and truthfully, I was irritated at first. They made me do this continuously and at different locations. However, there was this little girl smiling at me as I handed the food to her mother. I could see her whispering something in her mother’s ear, and then I found myself wrapped in her short arms. This moment stood out to me the most, and it sent signals of joy straight to my heart. I could feel the strings detach from my organs. I considered it to be a temporary feeling, but temporary or not, I portrayed it as a temporary solution. I became devoted to doing good deeds like this, and it would kill two birds with one stone after all. Because of covid, I participated in virtual contributions such as sending letters to children at the hospital, sending Christmas gifts to children, and giving out care packages to young girls. I found that the smiles I put on children’s faces fulfilled me. I grew passionate. Now, as covid has calmed down, I am able to interact again with people face to face and experience a truly delightful side of the world. I believe that my mental health journey is an integral part of my identity and has highlighted one of my great passions in life, to help the unfortunate in any way that I can. I have proclaimed that to be my greatest desire. From this experience, I believe that it has shown me just how strong I am. Overcoming these disorders has enforced vitality, persistence, confidence, and determination in my life. Throughout all the miserable times I experienced, I never gave up on myself and continued to push myself despite everything I endured. I perceive this to be a great strength of mine that has only benefited me in finding myself and I am truly proud of who I am becoming. I have successfully emerged from it and have gained a new passion doing so: giving back to the unfortunate.

Throughout middle school and my first years of high school, I experienced undiagnosed depression and extreme anxiety. My parents refused to believe that such things could be a concern at such a young age. With consistent comments like, “You have nothing to be stressed about. You aren’t paying bills”, they were unconsciously invalidating my feelings all the time. Because of this, I was unable to receive professional help/attention which affected my ability to prioritize my education. I felt that I was not capable of succeeding in life, even though I was only in grade 7. I forced the idea into my head that I was being held under a lot of pressure because of my parents’ mistakes. My parents had me at a young age and dropped out of high school to raise me; so, I felt that they looked at me and thought I would do the same. It felt like they weren’t giving me a chance to make decisions for myself, like they could see my future. I dealt with my feelings in silence for years. However, one day, my parents brought home what appeared to be a feast split into portions and wrapped into several individual packages. They took me to our local park and pointed out some homeless people. I was asked to give each of them a package of food and truthfully, I was irritated at first. They made me do this continuously and at different locations. However, there was this little girl smiling at me as I handed the food to her mother. I could see her whispering something in her mother’s ear, and then I found myself wrapped in her short arms. This moment stood out to me the most, and it sent signals of joy straight to my heart. I could feel the strings detach from my organs. I considered it to be a temporary feeling, but temporary or not, I portrayed it as a temporary solution. I became devoted to doing good deeds like this, and it would kill two birds with one stone after all. Because of covid, I participated in virtual contributions such as sending letters to children at the hospital, sending Christmas gifts to children, and giving out care packages to young girls. I found that the smiles I put on children’s faces fulfilled me. I grew passionate. Now, as covid has calmed down, I am able to interact again with people face to face and experience a truly delightful side of the world. I believe that my mental health journey is an integral part of my identity and has highlighted one of my great passions in life, to help the unfortunate in any way that I can. I have proclaimed that to be my greatest desire. From this experience, I believe that it has shown me just how strong I am. Overcoming these disorders has enforced vitality, persistence, confidence, and determination in my life. Throughout all the miserable times I experienced, I never gave up on myself and continued to push myself despite everything I endured. I perceive this to be a great strength of mine that has only benefited me in finding myself and I am truly proud of who I am becoming. I have successfully emerged from it and have gained a new passion doing so: giving back to the unfortunate.

Throughout middle school and my first years of high school, I experienced undiagnosed depression and extreme anxiety. My parents refused to believe that such things could be a concern at such a young age. With consistent comments like, “You have nothing to be stressed about. You aren’t paying bills”, they were unconsciously invalidating my feelings all the time. Because of this, I was unable to receive professional help/attention which affected my ability to prioritize my education. I felt that I was not capable of succeeding in life, even though I was only in grade 7. I forced the idea into my head that I was being held under a lot of pressure because of my parents’ mistakes. My parents had me at a young age and dropped out of high school to raise me; so, I felt that they looked at me and thought I would do the same. It felt like they weren’t giving me a chance to make decisions for myself, like they could see my future. I dealt with my feelings in silence for years. However, one day, my parents brought home what appeared to be a feast split into portions and wrapped into several individual packages. They took me to our local park and pointed out some homeless people. I was asked to give each of them a package of food and truthfully, I was irritated at first. They made me do this continuously and at different locations. However, there was this little girl smiling at me as I handed the food to her mother. I could see her whispering something in her mother’s ear, and then I found myself wrapped in her short arms. This moment stood out to me the most, and it sent signals of joy straight to my heart. I could feel the strings detach from my organs. I considered it to be a temporary feeling, but temporary or not, I portrayed it as a temporary solution. I became devoted to doing good deeds like this, and it would kill two birds with one stone after all. Because of covid, I participated in virtual contributions such as sending letters to children at the hospital, sending Christmas gifts to children, and giving out care packages to young girls. I found that the smiles I put on children’s faces fulfilled me. I grew passionate. Now, as covid has calmed down, I am able to interact again with people face to face and experience a truly delightful side of the world. I believe that my mental health journey is an integral part of my identity and has highlighted one of my great passions in life, to help the unfortunate in any way that I can. I have proclaimed that to be my greatest desire. From this experience, I believe that it has shown me just how strong I am. Overcoming these disorders has enforced vitality, persistence, confidence, and determination in my life. Throughout all the miserable times I experienced, I never gave up on myself and continued to push myself despite everything I endured. I perceive this to be a great strength of mine that has only benefited me in finding myself and I am truly proud of who I am becoming. I have successfully emerged from it and have gained a new passion doing so: giving back to the unfortunate.

1. Deserve. I absolutely despise that word. I deserve to live like a princess in a luxurious mansion. Everyone does. But only those who work hard live that way right? No. Some people get lucky and become rich off their looks. Others are born into rich families and have everything handed to them. I guess they deserved it. But we were all once a baby born into this world. Did I not deserve to be born into a rich family? Do I not deserve to go to college because I can't afford it even though I worked incredibly hard? I deserve this scholarship just as much as everyone else that applied, but deserving something doesn't make it yours. I wish it did. 2. My career goal is to become a human UV light repellent to preserve my skin's youth. 3. Once in the 5th grade, my school held a field day where students completed several obstacle courses. The most challenging activity for me was having to race to a balloon, sit on it, and make sure it popped (I was super scared of balloons). However, after wiggling on it for some seconds, it popped and my team won. I definitely overcame that obstacle (I am still scared of balloons).

After covid became a prominent concern, schools closed, and students were forced to quarantine. My depression worsened. My parents noticed, and I could see how miserable it made them feel. They finally addressed it and claimed that they were confident they found something that would uplift my spirits. My parents brought home what appeared to be a feast split into portions and wrapped into several individual packages. They took me to our local park and pointed out some homeless people. I was asked to give each of them a food package, and truthfully, I was irritated at first. They made me do this continuously and at different locations. In one instance, a little girl smiled at me as I handed the food to her mother. I could see her whispering something in her mother’s ear, and then I found myself wrapped in her short arms. This moment sent signals of joy straight to my heart. I could feel the strings detach from my organs. I considered it to be a temporary feeling, but temporary or not, I portrayed it as a temporary solution. I became devoted to doing good deeds like this, and it would kill two birds with one stone after all. Because of covid, I participated in virtual contributions such as sending letters to children at the hospital, sending Christmas gifts to children, and giving out care packages to young girls. I found that the smiles I put on children’s faces fulfilled me. Now, as covid has calmed down, I can interact again with people face to face and experience a truly delightful side of the world. Helping others has not only made a difference in my community but has also performed as an outlet for me to clear my mind. Ultimately, this has been one of the only things I could do that would truly help me to relieve my stress. My greatest tip is to get involved with your community and if not for yourself, do it for the betterment of others. Doing good deeds will always come back to you and leave a positive impact. Personally, helping others and my community is what has brought me to such a high point in my life. I feel as passionate now about helping others as I did when I was a toddler about playing with toys haha. I believe that my mental health journey is an integral part of my identity and has highlighted one of my great passions in life, to help the unfortunate in any way that I can. I have proclaimed that to be my greatest desire.

I was a happy child. I was the first. My parents were young. I never realized how much they struggled to give me such a wonderful life. They hid that part of their lives from me, and I only perceived them the way that they wanted me to. I considered my parents to be of great wealth, for I was always gifted everything I desired. My room, owned by hundreds of dolls and stuffed animals, seemed scripted out of a little girl’s dream. Perhaps it was only my dreams, but it fulfilled me. Toys seemed to be the source of my happiness, but it was also the unconditional love I received from my parents. As a child, I lived in a world where my imagination controlled my life. I saw what I wanted to see and believed whatever I wanted to believe in. I only knew the life my parents set for me, and I only knew the experiences they let me experience. Regardless, they could only control those aspects of my life for so long. Childhood happiness is genuinely wonderful, but it is incomparable to the happiness one holds as an adult. A child has not yet lived through the torments an adult has had to endure. The happiness a child has, transitions to the happiness they once had as they get older. I felt that transition. In elementary school, I found school fun and exciting. I didn’t have many friends, but I didn’t care. I was passionate about my 5th-grade education. In middle school though, my passion diminished. Some students were cruel and made it their purpose to belittle others. I fell for their degrading comments and allowed them to overpower me. My grades began to plummet, and my parents grew disappointed. I was disappointed in myself, but not only in my grades. I was disappointed in myself as a person. The high school environment implemented a dull portrait of myself in my mind. In the picture, I sat in a black chair and my body appeared as though it had been stripped of its soul. There were strings connected to each of my organs and they hung from something that couldn’t be seen. I never understood what was pulling on those strings, but I always imagined it to be another version of myself. A version of myself that existed to ensure that I continued living unhappily. Every moment where I felt so incredibly happy to the point where I forgot the sadness existed, she tugged on the strings and injected me with feelings of despondency that rendered me helpless. She detracted my motivation to perform well academically and made it impossible for me to get involved in anything, even outside of school. But that was sophomore year. After covid became a prominent concern, schools closed, and students were forced to quarantine. My depression worsened. My parents noticed, and I could see how miserable it made them feel. They finally addressed it and claimed that they were confident they found something that would uplift my spirits. My parents brought home what appeared to be a feast split into portions and wrapped into several individual packages. They took me to our local park and pointed out some homeless people. I was asked to give each of them a food package, and truthfully, I was irritated at first. They made me do this continuously and at different locations. In one instance, a little girl smiled at me as I handed the food to her mother. I could see her whispering something in her mother’s ear, and then I found myself wrapped in her short arms. This moment sent signals of joy straight to my heart. I could feel the strings detach from my organs. I considered it to be a temporary feeling, but temporary or not, I portrayed it as a temporary solution. I became devoted to doing good deeds like this, and it would kill two birds with one stone after all. Because of covid, I participated in virtual contributions such as sending letters to children at the hospital, sending Christmas gifts to children, and giving out care packages to young girls. I found that the smiles I put on children’s faces fulfilled me. Now, as covid has calmed down, I can interact again with people face to face and experience a truly delightful side of the world. I believe that my mental health journey is an integral part of my identity and has highlighted one of my great passions in life, to help the unfortunate in any way that I can. I have proclaimed that to be my greatest desire.

I was a happy child. I was the first. My parents were young. I never realized how much they struggled to give me such a wonderful life. They hid that part of their lives from me, and I only perceived them the way that they wanted me to. I considered my parents to be of great wealth, for I was always gifted everything I desired. My room, owned by hundreds of dolls and stuffed animals, seemed scripted out of a little girl’s dream. Perhaps it was only my dreams, but it fulfilled me. Toys seemed to be the source of my happiness, but it was also the unconditional love I received from my parents. As a child, I lived in a world where my imagination controlled my life. I saw what I wanted to see and believed whatever I wanted to believe in. I only knew the life my parents set for me, and I only knew the experiences they let me experience. Regardless, they could only control those aspects of my life for so long. Childhood happiness is genuinely wonderful, but it is incomparable to the happiness one holds as an adult. A child has not yet lived through the torments an adult has had to endure. The happiness a child has, transitions to the happiness they once had as they get older. I felt that transition. In elementary school, I found school fun and exciting. I didn’t have many friends, but I didn’t care. I was passionate about my 5th-grade education. In middle school though, my passion diminished. Some students were cruel and made it their purpose to belittle others. I fell for their degrading comments and allowed them to overpower me. My grades began to plummet, and my parents grew disappointed. I was disappointed in myself, but not only in my grades. I was disappointed in myself as a person. The high school environment implemented a dull portrait of myself in my mind. In the picture, I sat in a black chair and my body appeared as though it had been stripped of its soul. There were strings connected to each of my organs and they hung from something that couldn’t be seen. I never understood what was pulling on those strings, but I always imagined it to be another version of myself. A version of myself that existed to ensure that I continued living unhappily. Every moment where I felt so incredibly happy to the point where I forgot the sadness existed, she tugged on the strings and injected me with feelings of despondency that rendered me helpless. She detracted my motivation to perform well academically and made it impossible for me to get involved in anything, even outside of school. But that was sophomore year. After covid became a prominent concern, schools closed, and students were forced to quarantine. My depression worsened. My parents noticed, and I could see how miserable it made them feel. They finally addressed it and claimed that they were confident they found something that would uplift my spirits. My parents brought home what appeared to be a feast split into portions and wrapped into several individual packages. They took me to our local park and pointed out some homeless people. I was asked to give each of them a food package, and truthfully, I was irritated at first. They made me do this continuously and at different locations. In one instance, a little girl smiled at me as I handed the food to her mother. I could see her whispering something in her mother’s ear, and then I found myself wrapped in her short arms. This moment sent signals of joy straight to my heart. I could feel the strings detach from my organs. I considered it to be a temporary feeling, but temporary or not, I portrayed it as a temporary solution. I became devoted to doing good deeds like this, and it would kill two birds with one stone after all. Because of covid, I participated in virtual contributions such as sending letters to children at the hospital, sending Christmas gifts to children, and giving out care packages to young girls. I found that the smiles I put on children’s faces fulfilled me. Now, as covid has calmed down, I can interact again with people face to face and experience a truly delightful side of the world. I believe that my mental health journey is an integral part of my identity and has highlighted one of my great passions in life, to help the unfortunate in any way that I can. I have proclaimed that to be my greatest desire.

Childhood happiness is genuinely wonderful, but it is incomparable to the happiness one holds as an adult. A child has not yet lived through the torments an adult has had to endure. The happiness a child has, transitions to the happiness they once had as they get older. I felt that transition. In elementary school, I found school fun and exciting. I didn’t have many friends, but I didn’t care. I was passionate about my 5th-grade education. In middle school though, my passion diminished. Some students were cruel and made it their purpose to belittle others. I fell for their degrading comments and allowed them to overpower me. My grades began to plummet, and my parents grew disappointed. I was disappointed in myself, but not only in my grades. I was disappointed in myself as a person. The high school environment implemented a dull portrait of myself in my mind. In the picture, I sat in a black chair and my body appeared as though it had been stripped of its soul. There were strings connected to each of my organs and they hung from something that couldn’t be seen. I never understood what was pulling on those strings, but I always imagined it to be another version of myself. A version of myself that existed to ensure that I continued living unhappily. Every moment where I felt so incredibly happy to the point where I forgot the sadness existed, she tugged on the strings and injected me with feelings of despondency that rendered me helpless. She detracted my motivation to perform well academically and made it impossible for me to get involved in anything, even outside of school. But that was sophomore year. After covid became a prominent concern, schools closed, and students were forced to quarantine. My depression worsened. My parents noticed, and I could see how miserable it made them feel. They finally addressed it and claimed that they were confident they found something that would uplift my spirits. My parents brought home what appeared to be a feast split into portions and wrapped into several individual packages. They took me to our local park and pointed out some homeless people. I was asked to give each of them a food package, and truthfully, I was irritated at first. They made me do this continuously and at different locations. In one instance, a little girl smiled at me as I handed the food to her mother. I could see her whispering something in her mother’s ear, and then I found myself wrapped in her short arms. This moment sent signals of joy straight to my heart. I could feel the strings detach from my organs. I considered it to be a temporary feeling, but temporary or not, I portrayed it as a temporary solution. I became devoted to doing good deeds like this, and it would kill two birds with one stone after all. Because of covid, I participated in virtual contributions such as sending letters to children at the hospital, sending Christmas gifts to children, and giving out care packages to young girls. I found that the smiles I put on children’s faces fulfilled me. Now, as covid has calmed down, I can interact again with people face to face and experience a truly delightful side of the world. I believe that my mental health journey is an integral part of my identity and has highlighted one of my great passions in life, to help the unfortunate in any way that I can. I have proclaimed that to be my greatest desire.