I've struggled with my mental health for almost as long as I can remember. Through a combination of extreme stress and trauma, my childhood memories are few and far between, but I can remember the moment I realized I wasn't happy anymore. I was in 5th grade, probably 11 years old, and I was trying to figure out why I didn't feel "good" anymore. It turns out that the combination of a chemical imbalance and an abusive father isn't the best combination for the development of a child. Through therapy and trying out several different medication groups, I have made some progress. Honestly, I still struggle a lot. Stress is the biggest trigger for my depression, and the combination of graduating a semester early in December 2022, moving out with my partner in January 2023, and beginning college at UTSA days after is pretty stressful. Especially since I have been working 25-35 hours a week despite being chronically ill. It's exhausting, but I think It'll be worth it. My relationships have all suffered because of my mental health. Rarely because of me lashing out, but largely because of me forgetting to take my meds and then spiraling. My poor mother has recently cleaned my "depression room" in an act of kindness. Granted it was mostly clothes on the floor, but I sobbed when I got home from a rough shift to find a clean floor, my sheets in the wash, and clean clothes folded. My mom has been one of my biggest supporters. She rarely gets angry with me and shows more compassion than anything. Even though she's never struggled with depression, I'm well taken care of. She noticed I was struggling more than usual and even set me up with a new therapist since I got locked out of the patient portal my last one used. My partner of a year, my high school sweetheart, has also struggled with their mental health. She has been learning, very patiently, how to help me. I appreciate her more than I can describe. Battling with depression for so long has made me a very compassionate person. There are very few people I am unable to find sympathy for. The biggest way my mental health has affected my beliefs is I believe there should be mental health days we can have at school. You go to the nurse or counselor, explain what's wrong, and they just let you rest or go home. I'm fortunate enough that my mother will let me take roughly two days to myself per school year when I'm really struggling, but that means taking an absence. Our schools claim to be our advocates for our mental health, attempting to stop bullying and suicide, but do very little to help the vast majority of us. My dream is to go into S.T.E.M. I have always had a passion for science, and plan to major in biology. After getting my bachelor's degree, I plan to get my master's degree and become a genetic counselor. Genetic counselors assist those who are afflicted with genetic diseases, need testing for genetic diseases, are trying to start a family and want to make sure their genes and their partner's genes won't express any silent diseases, and can just see the risk factors encoded into a person that they may pass down to a child. What inspired me to do so was the fact that I know there's a chance my chronic illness is genetic and my partner's family has a genetic predisposition to diabetes. As long as we can afford it, we plan to both get tested and see who has fewer genetic risk factors and use her egg to have our future child. The idea of having that happy life with her and a child is what keeps me going. It has made it significantly easier to persevere. I hold onto that dream when times get tough. Overall, I wouldn't say my mental health has ruined my youth, as some of my friends would argue. I think it has made it significantly more difficult, but it hasn't stopped me from doing as much as I can. There was a point I was working two jobs, taking 4 AP classes, an On-Ramps class, and still making time for my friends. I know I'm capable, and while the cost of college terrifies me, I won't let anything stop me.

We often hear the word tolerance, but what does it mean? Tolerance is not acceptance, but the decision to not actively persecute someone because of a factor they often can not control. Race, nationality, skin color, hair type, gender, disability, and sexuality are all reasons marginalized groups have been attacked in the past, and even present. So then what is acceptance? Acceptance is acknowledging the things that make someone different, typically something they can't control, and being able to look past it and appreciate them as a person. I've been fighting for more acceptance through education. The more someone knows the harder it is for them to be bigoted. And if they're given all the resources and opportunities to learn and grow but don't, that's a character flaw. The biggest change I'd love to see in this world and the one I've been fighting for is not tolerance, but acceptance. I'm tolerated by some people in my life. Not just due to the fact I'm a lesbian, but also because of my disabilities. My movements are sometimes restricted due to injury or loss of mobility. I have to use a cane sometimes due to back pain or difficulty moving my legs. Sometimes because of my Tourette's I will make motions or sounds that irritate other people. Thankfully, I am good enough at hiding them now that people rarely notice. These things, that I can not control, often alter others' opinions about me. I'm used to it, but I shouldn't have to be. The main reason some people merely tolerate me is that I'm a very vocal activist for queer rights. It's frustrating because I often get caught in debates with family members who think that queer-inclusive sex education shouldn't exist and that it should be the parent's choice whether their child learns about queer people in general. They want to erase us. There is nothing dirty or shameful about being queer. We also see some who believe disabled people shouldn't be accommodated or allowed to have children. I have accommodations due to my disabilities. I can leave class to go sit in the nurse's office when my tics are flaring and on days I need my cane, I can leave class a bit early to travel to my next class. Without these accommodations, I'd be fighting a lot harder than my peers to be able to function like a normal student. I also want to be a mom. I'd love to have a child, and that shouldn't be taken away from me on the off chance my child has disabilities like their mom. I believe education and patience are two tools we can use to fight bigotry. By teaching someone, you are giving them the opportunity to grow. You're giving them the opportunity to change and be a better person, and I think that's a wonderful gift. It's important to be patient, but not waste your breath. Know when to stop and move on if someone is getting aggressive or unwilling to change. Overall, remember that someone's uninformed opinion of you does not define you. Acceptance is what this world needs, and I believe in time, it shall come to be.