By the time I was 14, I had said more goodbyes than most have said hello. Being the child of an Army officer has been one of the most rewarding, but challenging aspects of my life. When I tell my friends of all the places I have lived, they often express their envy and tell me how cool it is that I was able to live in so many different cities and countries. In many ways, they are right. The constant moves were somewhat like a “reset” button for me, allowing me to be someone different or find different hobbies, if I chose to do so. However, this also made it harder for me to build genuine relationships with people around me. I was forced to learn how to make friends quickly and adapt to my surroundings, but this meant that my emotions were always on the move as well. Recently, after my dad retired from the army, I can still see how the life of a military child has affected me. One of my favorite volunteering opportunities that I have done so far was doing patient transport at Inova Hospital in Alexandria, Virginia. The skills I learned about connecting with people have helped me talk with my patients as two human beings and make them feel even slightly more relaxed during a vulnerable time. However, the relationships that I have with my closest friends at school have been a struggle for me because opening up about my deeper feelings has been something I never had to do. I have always been good at making “shallow” friendships, but didn’t learn until a later time that we need more than just a friend you can hang out with. Nonetheless, I have slowly started to learn that being open can build trust between two people and hopefully I will continue to practice my communication skills. Another aspect of being a military child is that I was able to connect with my Japanese heritage directly, which most Asian Americans do not get to do. When I was around 4 years old, my father was deployed to both the Afghanistan and Iran Wars. During this time, my mother, my two other half siblings, and I lived in Japan. During this time, I was able to spend my early childhood learning what it means to be Japanese. Even when I moved back to the US eventually, I was proud to be Japanese because the culture had become a part of who I am as a person. Although my father leaving during such a crucial part of my life was hard for me and my family, I now understand that his service played a large role in helping me find myself through my heritage. Being a military child not only taught me how to adapt to new surroundings, but it gave me the tools that I need to connect and handle change more easily. While it came with its fair share of challenges, it also made me more resilient and empathetic. I could go on about how my father being in the military impacted me, but I can proudly say that I would not be who I am today without him serving the Army.

My “Pie in the Sky” dream is teaching and practicing women’s health in underdeveloped countries where being in control of their own bodies has not been an option. For a long time, I have identified myself as a “feminist” because it reflected my beliefs of fighting for equal rights until every last girl in the world is able to live the life that SHE wants to live, not for the label. And knowing how our body works, how to care for it, and feeling safe enough to ask questions is a right I believe every girl should have. This is important to me because knowing what it is like to be invisible, I would never wish that upon anyone else. And I want to do my part of fighting for women’s rights by becoming an OB-GYN doctor, travelling around to different countries that neglect women’s health and fight for women there. We are fortunate enough that in the United States, women are able to go to doctors and receive quality care for both their mental and physical health. However, it was not always like this nor is it perfect now. The 3 facts that I learned recently that solidified my dream of being a women’s health doctor and advocating through healthcare are the following. Did you know that it was only in 2023, three years ago, that tampons were being tested with blood instead of saline? According to the Association of Medical Colleges, before 1993 (only 33 years ago), women were rarely included in clinical trials which led to new pharmaceutical drugs to rarely work for women. And lastly, minority mothers, especially Black mothers, are still 3 to 4 times more likely to pass during pregnancy or postpartum than white mothers. Learning the reality of how neglected women have been by medical officials made me realize that this inequality is not accidental, it was and still is systemic. And this awakened something in me: I did not want to just study medicine, I wanted to avenge those women who have been forgotten for all these years. I believe that every woman has the right to know about their bodies and when they wish to have children. Unfortunately, this is not the case for certain parts of the world and I want to do everything in my power to change that. I know this will not be easy for me, given the years of education, money, and sacrifice it takes to become a doctor. This path includes a pre-medical route throughout my undergraduate years, four years of academically challenging medical school, and another four years of residency where I will hone my skills to the specialty of OB-GYN. Once I am confident in my skills of being a women’s health doctor, I would like to be a travel doctor where I can spend time in countries located in Central or Southeast Asia where I can do what I can do to teach young women that they have the right to prioritize their physical and mental health. Knowing that my dream is 12 years away feels heavy and even scary sometimes, but that is precisely why this is my “pie in the sky” dream. Not because it is easy or convenient, but because it pushes me to work harder than I have ever to pursue it. Because if I don’t try and do something, who will?

I never had the chance to tell my story, but here it is: I’m a goddamn survivor and I have turned my tears into something that means the world to me. In the 16 years I have lived on this Earth, I have gone through the four A’s: abuse, attempted murder, abandonment, and acting as the arbitrator of my parents’ divorce. Every time I tell someone about a fraction of my past, their first emotion is pity. The instant wilt of their smile when they realize that the loud, happy girl is a facade to cover the pain I carry is a look I’ve become too acquainted with. Now I’m not the Cinderella of this story, I am merely a normal teenage girl who learned to survive the hand dealt to her, just like anyone else. In the process, I figured out the cruelty of the world a little early on, but also quickly learned to navigate through difficult situations. If none of those things happened to me, I wouldn’t be the person I am today. I have accepted that sometimes the rain is necessary to get the rainbow. My mother abused me, mentally and physically, for the first 14 years of my life. Yes, she eventually stopped, however I never fully understood why she did at that point. After 14, I continued to hold onto all those negative emotions because it was easier for me to hate than to accept the injustice I have gone through. I kept asking my mom “why” questions. The one I struggled with the most was: “If you were able to stop, why didn’t you a long time ago?” When I didn’t get the right answer, it drove me insane, but the reality is there is no correct explanation. I soon realized that what I was truly seeking for was any semblance of humanity in her actions. Once I accepted the fact that my questions would never be answered, I was able to free myself from my own torture. That’s the beautiful thing about forgiveness, you instantly let go of all that horrible emotions contained inside. This does not mean what you went through is no longer painful, it simply releases your own demons. And that’s exactly what happened with me, I was able to move on from the past and work on rebuilding a relationship with my mother. With the jackpot of trauma I have in my safe, I discovered who I am and how to take care of myself. I’ve been hurt more times than I can count, but I can say that an incident that affected me the most was my parents’ divorce. Even as I write this, I tear up as the memories flood back. Although I wish the outcome could have been different, being abandoned by my father and consequently cutting him off may have been the best worst thing to happen to me. Getting out of a toxic relationship, even if it was my father, allowed me the time to figure myself out and what I want to do with my life. I didn’t want to be the depressed girl whose parents divorced nor the girl who suffered through neglect in her own home. No, I was going to be my own person and that is exactly what I did. I did the things I loved again, I worked on my mental health, and eventually started to feel beautiful for the first time in 16 years. Life is not easy, not for anyone. I can and will proudly say that I’m a survivor and will continue to survive because that is all I have ever learned to do. Cinderella may have been helped by the Fairy Godmother, but I helped myself and got to where I am today despite the chains that held me back. It is my time to soar and nothing will hold me back.