A thought that always drove me is: "It has to be better than this." Perhaps it was from witnessing my parents immigrate, or seeing my mother repeatedly call 911 on my father, each time with hope. My childhood was often insufferable. When the abuse made its way to me, that nagging thought crept back. It has to be better. So, in my 14 year-old brain, I conjured an unorthodox attempt: I found an adult online who promised to "rescue" me. I ran away from home, and I reached 700 miles before I was caught. This prompted legal action with the man who groomed me, but I was too young to understand. My grades slipped, I had panic attacks, and I felt estranged. The desire to find something better enveloped me again, so I dropped out of high school. I enrolled in homeschooling and surprisingly graduated within 8 months. It was untraditional, but learning to be self-driven from a young age solidified my work ethic. I started college at 16, and I finally escaped my traumatic home. I finally started therapy at 19, but it was a long road. I spent years painfully unlearning what constituted my entire worldview and addressing the terror in my mind. Despite my educational progression, I was unwell. I consistently isolated, ruminating over suicide ideation. What stuck with me was that voice that said it has to be better. My stubbornness made me fight for what I always longed for: emotional acceptance. After years of therapy, I no longer deny my early experiences that once felt too shameful to reveal. Mental health is important to me because prioritizing it influenced me to stay motivated to achieve an enriched life. Not everyone is as lucky, and I feel a sense of mission to embody these values and support others. As such, I decided to pivot careers to become a mental health therapist. When I announced this change, my peers encouraged me to pursue life coaching instead to leapfrog the lengthy schooling and licensure process. However, that advice did not sit right with me. My interests align with helping individuals heal from their traumas and serving vulnerable populations who cannot otherwise afford mental health resources. Through my volunteer experiences with Peer Collective, a peer counseling platform, and CASA, an advocacy non-profit for children in the foster care system, I understand the growing need for traditional psychotherapy. Both experiences opened my eyes to an all too real commonality; people in underserved communities want to be heard, but not many providers are able to listen without a steep cost. I wish to serve that population. Access to quality care is an issue faced in the world of mental health today, especially after the popularization of psychotherapy from the pandemic and especially in the Bay Area; a place where the widening income inequality is constantly weighing down on families. A pre-COVID report by UCSF analyzed that “California will have … 11 percent fewer psychologists, marriage and family therapists, professional clinical counselors and clinical social workers than needed by 2028.” If I become a licensed therapist, then I can accept insurance, an option not possible as a life coach. While I recognize my actions alone cannot solve the grander systemic access issue, improving supply is a step in the right direction, and alleviating some of the waitlists on insurance networks like Medi-Cal is a start.

A thought that always drove me is: "It has to be better than this." Perhaps it was from witnessing my parents immigrate, or seeing my mother repeatedly call 911 on my father, each time with hope. My childhood was often insufferable. When the abuse made its way to me, that nagging thought crept back. It has to be better. So, in my 14 year-old brain, I conjured an unorthodox attempt: I found an adult online who promised to "rescue" me. I ran away from home, and I reached 700 miles before I was caught. This prompted legal action with the man who groomed me, but I was too young to understand. My grades slipped, I had panic attacks, and I felt estranged. The desire to find something better enveloped me again, so I dropped out of high school. I enrolled in homeschooling and surprisingly graduated within 8 months. It was untraditional, but learning to be self-driven from a young age solidified my work ethic. I started college at 16, and I finally escaped my traumatic home. I finally started therapy at 19, but it was a long road. I spent years painfully unlearning what constituted my entire worldview and addressing the terror in my mind. Despite my educational progression, I was unwell. I consistently isolated, ruminating over suicide ideation. What stuck with me was that voice that said it has to be better. My stubbornness made me fight for what I always longed for: emotional acceptance. After years of therapy, I no longer deny my early experiences that once felt too shameful to reveal. Mental health is important to me because prioritizing it influenced me to stay motivated to achieve an enriched life. Not everyone is as lucky, and I feel a sense of mission to embody these values and support others. As such, I decided to pivot careers to become a mental health therapist. When I announced this change, my peers encouraged me to pursue life coaching instead to leapfrog the lengthy schooling and licensure process. However, that advice did not sit right with me. My interests align with helping individuals heal from their traumas and serving vulnerable populations who cannot otherwise afford mental health resources. Through my volunteer experiences with Peer Collective, a peer counseling platform, and CASA, an advocacy non-profit for children in the foster care system, I understand the growing need for traditional psychotherapy. Both experiences opened my eyes to an all too real commonality; people in underserved communities want to be heard, but not many providers are able to listen without a steep cost. I wish to serve that population. Access to quality care is an issue faced in the world of mental health today, especially after the popularization of psychotherapy from the pandemic and especially in the Bay Area; a place where the widening income inequality is constantly weighing down on families. A pre-COVID report by UCSF analyzed that “California will have … 11 percent fewer psychologists, marriage and family therapists, professional clinical counselors and clinical social workers than needed by 2028.” If I become a licensed therapist, then I can accept insurance, an option not possible as a life coach. While I recognize my actions alone cannot solve the grander systemic access issue, improving supply is a step in the right direction, and alleviating some of the waitlists on insurance networks like Medi-Cal is a start.

A thought that always drove me is: "It has to be better than this." Perhaps it was from witnessing my parents immigrate, or seeing my mother repeatedly call 911 on my father, each time with hope. My childhood was often insufferable. When the abuse made its way to me, that nagging thought crept back. It has to be better. So, in my 14 year-old brain, I conjured an unorthodox attempt: I found an adult online who promised to "rescue" me. I ran away from home, and I reached 700 miles before I was caught. This prompted legal action with the man who groomed me, but I was too young to understand. My grades slipped, I had panic attacks, and I felt estranged. The desire to find something better enveloped me again, so I dropped out of high school. I enrolled in homeschooling and surprisingly graduated within 8 months. It was untraditional, but learning to be self-driven from a young age solidified my work ethic. I started college at 16, and I finally escaped my traumatic home. I finally started therapy at 19, but it was a long road. I spent years painfully unlearning what constituted my entire worldview and addressing the terror in my mind. Despite my educational progression, I was unwell. I consistently isolated, ruminating over suicide ideation. What stuck with me was that voice that said it has to be better. My stubbornness made me fight for what I always longed for: emotional acceptance. After years of therapy, I no longer deny my early experiences that once felt too shameful to reveal. They influenced me to stay motivated to achieve an enriched life. Not everyone is as lucky, and I feel a sense of mission to embody these values and support others. As such, I decided to pivot careers to become a mental health therapist. When I announced this change, my peers encouraged me to pursue life coaching instead to leapfrog the lengthy schooling and licensure process. However, that advice did not sit right with me. My interests align with helping individuals heal from their traumas and serving vulnerable populations who cannot otherwise afford mental health resources. Through my volunteer experiences with Peer Collective, a peer counseling platform, and CASA, an advocacy non-profit for children in the foster care system, I understand the growing need for traditional psychotherapy. Both experiences opened my eyes to an all too real commonality; people in underserved communities want to be heard, but not many providers are able to listen without a steep cost. I wish to serve that population. Access to quality care is an issue faced in the world of mental health today, especially after the popularization of psychotherapy from the pandemic and especially in the Bay Area; a place where the widening income inequality is constantly weighing down on families. A pre-COVID report by UCSF analyzed that “California will have … 11 percent fewer psychologists, marriage and family therapists, professional clinical counselors and clinical social workers than needed by 2028.” If I become a licensed therapist, then I can accept insurance, an option not possible as a life coach. While I recognize my actions alone cannot solve the grander systemic access issue, improving supply is a step in the right direction, and alleviating some of the waitlists on insurance networks like Medi-Cal is a start. It is important for me to become a therapist that will accept insurance and not allow cost to be a barrier-of-entry for those who need it most. This scholarships aligns with my values of being there for individuals, especially in their darkest times.

As a queer, first-generation Indian woman raised Muslim, my self-identity has often felt intricately multilayered. Too Indian to be American, and too American to be Indian. Too culturally religious to be gay, and too gay to be a good Muslim. I was fortunate to have access to mental health treatment, and after processing the impacts of my childhood trauma in my adulthood, I finally felt a peace with my identity for the first time after several years. This is not a privilege everyone has, and my own experience with mental health fueled my desire to pivot careers and bridge those gaps. However, when I decided to become a therapist, my peers encouraged me to pursue life coaching instead to leapfrog the lengthy schooling and licensure process. That advice did not sit right with me. My interests align with helping individuals heal from their traumas and serving vulnerable populations who cannot otherwise afford mental health resources. Through my volunteer experiences with Peer Collective, a peer counseling platform, and CASA, an advocacy non-profit for children in the foster care system, I understand the growing need for traditional psychotherapy. Both experiences opened my eyes to an all too real commonality; people in underserved communities want to be heard, but not many providers are able to listen without a steep cost. I wish to serve that population. Access to quality care is an issue faced in the world of mental health today, especially after the popularization of psychotherapy from the pandemic and especially in the Bay Area; a place where the widening income inequality is constantly weighing down on families. A pre-COVID report by UCSF analyzed that “California will have … 11 percent fewer psychologists, marriage and family therapists, professional clinical counselors and clinical social workers than needed by 2028.” If I become a licensed therapist, then I can accept insurance, an option not possible as a life coach. While I recognize my actions alone cannot solve the grander systemic access issue, improving supply is a step in the right direction, and alleviating some of the waitlists on insurance networks like Medi-Cal is a start. I hope, through my work as a therapist, I can provide a safe space for marginalized folks to be their authentic selves. My vision for my practice is to see my clients always from a human-centered perspective. Whether they identify as bisexual, transgender, HIV-positive, polyamorous, religious, etc. I want to take a curious and culturally affirming approach. What is someone's story? What makes them who they are? When they share their life experiences, what emotions are they feeling, and what is the underpinning theme in their lives? What are the multicultural layers added onto their experiences? Often times, just the act of being truly seen and truly listened to without judgment can be powerful and healing in of itself, and more people deserve to have that opportunity.

When I decided to become a therapist, my peers encouraged me to pursue life coaching instead to leapfrog the lengthy schooling and licensure process. However, that advice did not sit right with me. My interests align with helping individuals heal from their traumas and serving vulnerable populations who cannot otherwise afford mental health resources. Through my volunteer experiences with Peer Collective, a peer counseling platform, and CASA, an advocacy non-profit for children in the foster care system, I understand the growing need for traditional psychotherapy. Both experiences opened my eyes to an all too real commonality; people in underserved communities want to be heard, but not many providers are able to listen without a steep cost. I wish to serve that population. Access to quality care is an issue faced in the world of mental health today, especially after the popularization of psychotherapy from the pandemic and especially in the Bay Area; a place where the widening income inequality is constantly weighing down on families. A pre-COVID report by UCSF analyzed that “California will have … 11 percent fewer psychologists, marriage and family therapists, professional clinical counselors and clinical social workers than needed by 2028.” If I become a licensed therapist, then I can accept insurance, an option not possible as a life coach. While I recognize my actions alone cannot solve the grander systemic access issue, improving supply is a step in the right direction, and alleviating some of the waitlists on insurance networks like Medi-Cal is a start.