I used to think failures were the end of the world. Now, I see them as a blessing. Even though they might set me back, I know each one brings me a step closer to where I want to be in life. From 7th through 11th grade, I went through a deep wave of depression that affected my education and the way I saw myself. I dreaded going to school. Either boys would lust over my body, or people would tear it apart with their words. I sucked in my stomach so often that it left me with flared ribs and an eating disorder. On top of that, I went through my biggest heartbreak, which pushed me to rock bottom and into a painful suicide attempt that changed my view on everything. But that moment also changed me. I realized I had to stop putting people above myself. I stopped caring so much about what others said and began learning to love myself. I started reading, praying, and motivating myself to get up and work out. It hasn’t been easy, but I’ve gotten so much better at dealing with my mental health. What I’ve learned is simple but powerful: no matter what you look like, people will always have something to say. The difference is that now I accept myself and my journey. I’ve learned that I come with so much to offer, and one day, the right people will see and value that. I’ve also realized that relationships will keep teaching me lessons until I fully love and heal myself. Failures are no longer my enemy, they are my teachers. They’ve taught me resilience, self-worth, and perseverance, lessons that will carry me into every challenge I face in the future.