I want to complete my education to the fullest degree, becoming a medical doctor in psychological studies to further the development of humanity's ideas towards mental health and help the people who suffer from these afflictions; all while starting a family of my own that I can instill these same values into.

All children are asked at a very young age, “What do you want to be when you grow up?” Of course, I am one of those children, but unlike my classmates who knew they wanted to be police officers or doctors, I was never sure what I wanted. My younger brother had even chosen a career path, like all little boys do, of a paleontologist. But there I was, being asked that all-so simple question, and not having an answer. My parents had grown up poor, but through the process, education was founded on, worked their way through mounds of student debt, long nights in college libraries, and graduated college, both doctors in pharmacy. They never wanted me to suffer like they did growing up, instilling in me the importance of money, and how lucky I was. “Our job as your parents is to make you a functioning adult.” A line I’ve heard too many times to count is, “That entails you’re making enough money to live on.” My first set of parameters in selecting a job, I had to be able to survive. A knack for academics kicked in during my middle school years, and a terrible ego came with it. I looked down upon others, those who couldn’t solve a fraction perfectly, or were struggling in algebra. My pubescent brain couldn’t see that not everyone was just like me. At this point I was telling others I wanted to be a doctor, or work for NASA. I had to go into a STEM-related field, because those are for smart people, just like me. In pursuit of STEM, I joined up with a specific math and science school, The Battle Creek Area Math and Science Center. I finally learned how hard academics could be, as coding and physics were not areas I was gifted in. The girl sitting next to me in these classes knew what she was doing, and she excelled. Maybe I wasn’t as smart as I thought I was, and my world started to collapse around me. I stuck with the center though, because even though it was hard I knew it would be worth it. Forced to make a change in my mental health I started therapy. No one ever tells you how bad Depression feels, especially when it becomes a disorder. No one ever depicts on TV exactly what Post Traumatic Stress Disorder can feel like. Locked within those disorders was like an escape room, that I fought my way out of. The light at the end of the tunnel showed me exactly what I knew I wanted to be. My friends were shoulders to cry on when the storms beat me down. My pain became my strength when I realized how I could help others in a unique way I never could before, by relating to their experiences. No one deserves to feel alone. Not everyone is at the same level as you, and the only thing consistent in life is change. Helping society realize that the tide changes, and it's ok to feel sad or hurt without being judged based on gender or your past achievements should be without question. It only takes one person to start a chain reaction of change. One person can move a mountain with enough of a chance. So, What do I want to be when I grow up? I can finally answer that after 17 years of my life. I want to study Psychology and create a world that feels less lonely.

“He sounds like an abusive individual, Ms. Muday,” the detective stated to me in April of Junior year. “None of what happened to you was your fault. It has to be known first that his lawyers will try and paint you as a liar if you proceed. You have to find a way to mentally prepare yourself to see him and hear horrible things before pressing these charges further.” My life was entirely uprooted by someone's selfish actions. Now I had no clue how to start finding reality again after being affected so deeply. It started with endless therapy sessions and healthy coping habits. For months, I struggled to discover who I am. I was burdened by Depression and Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) since the summer of my sophomore year. I had become enslaved by my habits. In spite of the old adage, "you can't teach an old dog new tricks," I gave it a try. It was not just for myself, but for my inner little girl who had experienced so much suffering. It turns out that you can teach an old dog new tricks. Smiles, laughter, and a strong sense of self-worth filled my heart. I met friends who were in the same boat as me and some who were worse off. I found a spark in helping cheer them up, listening to them, letting them talk to me, and giving them advice. Nights on end became a routine until I became worse off than them. Forced to make a change in my mental health I started therapy. Those friends who I cared for years earlier, stood by my side. Checking on me and making sure I lived another night. No one ever tells you how bad Depression feels, especially when it becomes a disorder. No one ever depicts on TV exactly what Post Traumatic Stress Disorder can feel like. Locked within those disorders was like an escape room, that I fought my way out of. The light at the end of the tunnel showed me exactly what I knew I wanted to be. My therapist taught me so much, bringing me to a place I never could have gotten on my own. My friends were shoulders to cry on when the storms beat me down. My pain became my strength when I realized how I could help others in a unique way I never could before, by relating to their experiences. No one deserves to feel alone. No one is ever alone, it just takes a while to realize that. Not everyone is at the same level as you, and the only thing consistent in life is change. Helping society realize that the tide changes, and it's ok to feel sad or hurt without being judged based on gender or your past achievements should be without question. It only takes one person to start a chain reaction of change. One person can move a mountain with enough of a chance. When I looked in the mirror, I hardly recognized the young girl from the last few years. I had let others determine my path in life, but now I was my own person. A person who could take the advice she gave to others and be there for anyone who had gone through similar situations as the one I had been entrapped in. There was no way I would ever let someone like that hurt me or the people I cared about again. At long last, I can say I am happy to be me.

All children are asked at a very young age, “What do you want to be when you grow up?” Of course, I am one of those children, but unlike my classmates who knew they wanted to be police officers or doctors, I was never sure what I wanted. My younger brother had even chosen a career path, like all little boys do, of a paleontologist. But there I was, being asked that all-so simple question, and not having an answer. My parents had grown up poor, but through the process, education was founded on, worked their way through mounds of student debt, long nights in college libraries, and graduated college, both doctors in pharmacy. They never wanted me to suffer like they did growing up, instilling in me the importance of money, and how lucky I was. “Our job as your parents is to make you a functioning adult.” A line I’ve heard too many times to count is, “That entails you’re making enough money to live on.” My first set of parameters in selecting a job, I had to be able to survive. A knack for academics kicked in during my middle school years, and a terrible ego came with it. I looked down upon others, those who couldn’t solve a fraction perfectly, or were struggling in algebra. My pubescent brain couldn’t see that not everyone was just like me. At this point I was telling others I wanted to be a doctor, or work for NASA. I had to go into a STEM-related field, because those are for smart people, just like me. In pursuit of STEM, I joined up with a specific math and science school, The Battle Creek Area Math and Science Center. I finally learned how hard academics could be, as coding and physics were not areas I was gifted in. The girl sitting next to me in these classes knew what she was doing, and she excelled. I stuck with the center though, because even though it was hard I knew it would be worth it. T Forced to make a change in my mental health I started therapy. No one ever tells you how bad Depression feels, especially when it becomes a disorder. No one ever depicts on TV exactly what Post Traumatic Stress Disorder can feel like. Locked within those disorders was like an escape room, that I fought my way out of. The light at the end of the tunnel showed me exactly what I knew I wanted to be. My pain became my strength when I realized how I could help others in a unique way I never could before, by relating to their experiences. No one deserves to feel alone. No one is ever alone, it just takes a while to realize that. Not everyone is at the same level as you, and the only thing consistent in life is change. Helping society realize that the tide changes, and it's ok to feel sad or hurt without being judged based on gender or your past achievements should be without question. It only takes one person to start a chain reaction of change. One person can move a mountain with enough of a chance. So, What do I want to be when I grow up? I can finally answer that after 17 years of my life. I want to study Psychology and create a world that feels less lonely.

Midwestern small towns have a type of tight-knit community that you cannot find anywhere else. As an outsider, you cannot help but feel at home. What you don't hear about is the kids who leave those small towns and still find that community, that feels just as much like home. At a school where they were told they would never fit in, but unexpectedly, they did. I am one of these kids. I’ve lived in a town of less than a thousand residents all my life. Where most of my community service came from serving at my church. Every Sunday since I was eleven years old you’d see me every other Sunday morning, standing at the door with a smile and a handshake. “Good morning! Enjoy the service!” It lit up people's days, and it made mine. Watching people smile at me, I was able to be a bright spot in the day. Somedays, it was raining, and the pastor would hand me an umbrella, one nearly taller than I was. Then I’d run to people's cars to hold the umbrella as high as I could to keep the churchgoers dry. I remember how much they would laugh, and I imagine it was quite a silly scene. I still help at that church sometimes, but as I got older I got bigger tasks put upon me. First, once a month, on a Saturday I would go into school with a group of other churchgoers and volunteer to help repaint the school. At times it was bathrooms, and at other times it was classrooms. We’d clean up playgrounds, taking away all the trash. Planting flowers and removing weeds, growing fruits and vegetables to give to the less fortunate around town. My mom, realizing how much I liked to help, started taking me to the local clothing center, called the shack, which gave away donated clothes to those who can't afford them. There I helped hang up clothes, clean them, and take down clothes that were no longer in season. Unfortunately, I fell off of my community service in high school. I saw myself as too busy, with no time to help my town. I had started at an advanced education school, with students who knew each other all their lives. They were all city kids, and I, a child from the middle of nowhere, had no clue how to relate to them. So my school had an idea. We were going to spend the last few days of school volunteering. This seemed silly to me until the day came, we were teaching 4th graders the importance of science. While there were pitfalls, it was one of the best days I had had in a long time. I was so happy. I started to volunteer over the summer at that school, as they needed help preparing for the next school year. I developed connections with the other students serving, and the teachers I was helping. Community service is important, not just for the places you are serving, but for yourself. It gives a sense of purpose where you can meet people with common mindsets as you, or talk to people you never thought you’d be friends with. Teachers, and mentors, that I was scared to talk to now I laugh and joke with. All while helping to make the world a better place, which I have decided I want to make my purpose in life. As I want to help people feel safe, with themselves and with their minds. After all, having a community is important to the growth of your mind.

My High School career has been littered with endless therapy sessions and working towards healthy coping habits. For months, I struggled to discover who I am. I was burdened by Depression and Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) since the summer of my sophomore year. I had become enslaved by my habits. In spite of the old adage, "you can't teach an old dog new tricks," I gave it a try. It was not just for myself, but for my inner little girl who had experienced so much suffering. No one ever tells you how bad Depression feels, especially when it becomes a disorder. No one ever depicts on TV exactly what Post Traumatic Stress Disorder can feel like. Locked within those disorders was like an escape room, that I fought my way out of. The light at the end of the tunnel showed me exactly what I knew I wanted to be. My therapist taught me so much, bringing me to a place I never could have gotten on my own. My friends were shoulders to cry on when the storms beat me down. My pain became my strength when I realized how I could help others in a unique way I never could before, by relating to their experiences. No one deserves to feel alone. No one is ever alone, it just takes a while to realize that. Not everyone is at the same level as you, and the only thing consistent in life is change. Helping society realize that the tide changes, and it's ok to feel sad or hurt without being judged based on gender or your past achievements should be without question. It only takes one person to start a chain reaction of change. One person can move a mountain with enough of a chance. When I looked in the mirror, I hardly recognized the young girl from the last few years. I had let others determine my path in life, but now I was my own person. A person who could take the advice she gave to others and be there for anyone who had gone through similar situations as the one I had been entrapped in. There was no way I would ever let someone like that hurt me or the people I cared about again. At long last, I can say I am happy to be me. Now it is finally my turn to help people with the same pains as me, and I will persevere through every situation to achieve that dream. Everyone's voice will be heard, as long as I'm still here, fighting.

“He sounds like an abusive individual, Ms. Muday,” the detective stated to me in April of Junior year. “None of what happened to you was your fault. It has to be known first that his lawyers will try and paint you as a liar if you proceed. You have to find a way to mentally prepare yourself to see him and hear horrible things before pressing these charges further.” My life was entirely uprooted by someone's selfish actions. Now I had no clue how to start finding reality again after being affected so deeply. It started with endless therapy sessions and healthy coping habits. For months, I struggled to discover who I am. I was burdened by Depression and Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) since the summer of my sophomore year. I had become enslaved by my habits. In spite of the old adage, "you can't teach an old dog new tricks," I gave it a try. It was not just for myself, but for my inner little girl who had experienced so much suffering. It turns out that you can teach an old dog new tricks. Smiles, laughter, and a strong sense of self-worth filled my heart. I met friends who were in the same boat as me and some who were worse off. I found a spark in helping cheer them up, listening to them, letting them talk to me, and giving them advice. Nights on end became a routine until I became worse off than them. Forced to make a change in my mental health I started therapy. Those friends who I cared for years earlier, stood by my side. Checking on me and making sure I lived another night. No one ever tells you how bad Depression feels, especially when it becomes a disorder. No one ever depicts on TV exactly what Post Traumatic Stress Disorder can feel like. Locked within those disorders was like an escape room, that I fought my way out of. The light at the end of the tunnel showed me exactly what I knew I wanted to be. My therapist taught me so much, bringing me to a place I never could have gotten on my own. My friends were shoulders to cry on when the storms beat me down. My pain became my strength when I realized how I could help others in a unique way I never could before, by relating to their experiences. No one deserves to feel alone. No one is ever alone, it just takes a while to realize that. Not everyone is at the same level as you, and the only thing consistent in life is change. Helping society realize that the tide changes, and it's ok to feel sad or hurt without being judged based on gender or your past achievements should be without question. It only takes one person to start a chain reaction of change. One person can move a mountain with enough of a chance. When I looked in the mirror, I hardly recognized the young girl from the last few years. I had let others determine my path in life, but now I was my own person. A person who could take the advice she gave to others and be there for anyone who had gone through similar situations as the one I had been entrapped in. There was no way I would ever let someone like that hurt me or the people I cared about again. At long last, I can say I am happy to be me.

“You’ve changed since last I saw you,” a friend said to me. It was not the first time I had heard a statement like that, and I knew it wouldn't be the last. My friends and family pinned it on the stress of Junior year. My schedule was jam-packed with AP classes and studying for the SAT loomed over me. Combine that with the thunderous voice in the back of my mind that told me that I was never enough. It soon became a never-ending cycle of day-in-day-out self-doubt. During my Sophomore year, that cycle only seemed to get worse when my boyfriend and I broke up, followed by the many friends who abandoned me due to the fact I was not as cheerful as I once was. At the time, it seemed like the end of the world for me, but it was only a catalyst for what was to come. My mental state, which did not have solid footing, began to slip. When the summer of my Sophomore year hit, I was wearing long sleeves in the sweltering heat. “I’ll wear short sleeves when it warms up a bit more,” I’d say behind a smile. My ex was still in my life, insulting me in every way he could. Stating that no one would care if I killed myself, the tell-tale sayings of a manipulator. He tormented me throughout the summer, until one week in late July. He asked me if we could hang out sometime. What I would have done if I had known what lay ahead. With that, the last remaining sparks of innocence I had left died in a blanket of darkness. “He sounds like an abusive individual, Ms. Muday,” the detective stated to me in April of Junior year. “None of what happened to you was your fault. It has to be known first that his lawyers will try and paint you as a liar if you proceed. You have to find a way to mentally prepare yourself to see him and hear horrible things before pressing these charges further.” My life was entirely uprooted by someone's selfish actions. Now I had no clue how to start finding reality again after being affected so deeply. It started with endless therapy sessions and healthy coping habits. For months, I struggled to discover who I am. I was burdened by Depression and Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) since the summer of my sophomore year. I had become enslaved by my habits. In spite of the old adage, "you can't teach an old dog new tricks," I gave it a try. It was not just for myself, but for my inner little girl who had experienced so much suffering. It turns out that you can teach an old dog new tricks. Smiles, laughter, and a strong sense of self-worth filled my heart. When I looked in the mirror, I hardly recognized the young girl from the last few years. I had let others determine my path in life, but now I was my own person. A person who could take the advice she gave to others and be there for anyone who had gone through similar situations as the one I had been entrapped in. There was no way I would ever let someone like that hurt me or the people I cared about again. At long last, I can say I am happy to be me. “You’ve changed since last I saw you,” my friend recounted. “I’m so proud of you. You're doing amazing, Natalie.” Tears welled in my eyes as I told them that I no longer suffer from Major Depressive Disorder (MDD). It truly dawned on me at that moment. I had made it through the long road of recovery, and the light at the end of the tunnel is glorious. A soft smile formed on my face. “Thank you.”

The Cinema We sit down The movie starts to play I’m there on the screen Faceless, In utter disarray. When you stand up You're forced to sit back down. Watching a year of your life. Circle round and round. Was it enjoyable? I wouldn’t say so You were there, and so was he Also watching the show They were all laughing, when they were on screen They must think it so funny. What happened to me? I at least wanted popcorn Something to ease my brain But not a single person could even muster “It’s going to be ok” But that’s ok I won’t pull the plug The movie can’t stop It’s only just begun An exposition “It’s going to be ok” I tell myself “You’re going to be ok”