My family came to America seeking asylum from a war that stripped from them a life they'd worked tirelessly to build. Nevertheless in all things, it is better to hope than to despair. My grandfather bought me a medical play-set for my fourth birthday. Before long, my imagination swirled with visions of medical miracles. Although I didn't realize it then, the fascination of that small girl would endure for years to come. My dream of becoming a doctor has become my guiding compass through setbacks and victories. At twenty, I was pregnant. My grief from the loss of my father who had battled lymphoma was still fresh. After giving birth to my son in January 2018, I returned to college within two weeks. Terrified and overwhelmed, I was sure that I was going to succeed. I had to. It was that simple.    Although I did succeed, I know what it's like to fail; after my freshman year of college, I was academically dismissed.  I struggled to balance caring for my father, working and attending college full-time. Since then, there have been moments when I've questioned whether my financial limitations and academic missteps would prevent me from reaching my goals. However, I've learned that my losses and failures have given me an invaluable gift: a deeper understanding and compassion for others overcoming similar struggles. My empathy-based approach toward servant-leadership has proven to be my strength. The physician I dream of becoming will prioritize compassionate care and advocacy for those whose voices too often go unheard.