When I was ten years old, just six words changed my life, my faith, and my heart forever: “Your dad is not coming home.” I had never experienced real grief before my father’s suicide, and it was a shock to my system. Up to that point, my faith had never been challenged. I racked my brain often to figure out what I did wrong to ask for what I was handed. I spent a lot of time replacing that hurt with other people to fix the hole in my heart that my dad’s death had left. As I went down the path of people-pleasing, my heart became consistently wounded. For years my world revolved around other people and what they thought of me, and it became a tireless charade. Sophomore year started the same way. My faith was fragile, and I could not escape the depression I felt. Just as I hit an all-time emotional low, three teenagers literally drove through my house. The car went through 3 rooms, into our garage, and was a substantial financial hit. My family was forced to move into a hotel and then a rental house for nine months. Then, when life started to become more normal, my mom was diagnosed with breast cancer. I was overwhelmed. I could not comprehend why a loving God had more hurt and suffering for my family in his plan. At times, I wondered why God had blessed other people’s lives more than mine and did not understand why my life was not similar to everyone else's. COVID hit my junior year. Stuck in a rental house doing virtual learning because of my mom’s diagnosis, my life became less busy and boring. I had a sobering amount of free time to think and reflect on the past 17 years of my life. I realized that I was punishing myself for all I had been through instead of allowing God to take the pain away. Because of this, my pain had followed me through relationships and friendships. Once I understood that God is not someone who gives pain but takes it away, I started to heal. I wish I could say now that my heart is fully healed and my faith is perfect, but that is not the truth. What I can say is that I have come very far from where I have been. My faith is continuously challenged, but I have learned that my hardships do not determine the level of God’s love for me and that God is fully capable of filling the holes in my heart. The people-pleaser in me still exists, but I have learned to live with it and that I am not any less of a person because of it. I have been able to sit with people in the unimaginable because of all that I have walked through. The Lord has blessed me with abundant opportunities to share His love and share His character with young kids, college freshmen, and young adults. In continuing to share my story, I am constantly reminded of the Lord’s faithfulness and have learned that there is abundant freedom in sitting in the Lord’s past, present, and future plans for me! I know that His plans for me have been good, are good, and will be good because it’s all for His glory.

I had never experienced real grief before my father’s suicide, and it was a shock to my system. Up to that point, my faith had never been challenged. I racked my brain often to figure out what I did wrong to ask for what I was handed. I spent a lot of time replacing that hurt with other people to fix the hole in my heart that my dad’s death had left. As I went down the path of people-pleasing, my heart became consistently wounded. For years my world revolved around other people and what they thought of me, and it became a tireless charade. Sophomore year started the same way. My faith was fragile, and I could not escape the depression I felt. Just as I hit an all-time emotional low, three teenagers literally drove through my house. The car went through 3 rooms, into our garage, and was a substantial financial hit. My family was forced to move into a hotel and then a rental house for nine months. Then, when life started to become more normal, my mom was diagnosed with breast cancer. I was overwhelmed. I could not comprehend why a loving God had more hurt and suffering for my family in his plan. At times, I wondered why God had blessed other people’s lives more than mine and did not understand why my life was not similar to everyone else's. COVID hit my junior year. Stuck in a rental house doing virtual learning because of my mom’s diagnosis, my life became less busy and boring. I had a sobering amount of free time to think and reflect on the past 17 years of my life. I realized that I was punishing myself for all I had been through instead of allowing God to take the pain away. Because of this, my pain had followed me through relationships and friendships. I was so afraid of bad things happening that I neurotically tried to fix everything to make people stay. Once I understood that God is not someone who gives pain but takes it away, I started to heal. I wish I could say now that my heart is fully healed and my faith is perfect, but that is not the truth. What I can say is that I have come very far from where I have been. My faith is continuously challenged, but I have learned that my hardships do not determine the level of God’s love for me and that God is fully capable of filling the holes in my heart. The people-pleaser in me still exists, but I have learned to live with it and that I am not any less of a person because of it. Most importantly, I have learned that God is still writing my story, and I cannot wait to see what he writes next.

When I was ten, just six words changed my life, faith, and heart forever: “Your dad is not coming home.” I had never experienced real grief before my father’s suicide, and it was a shock to my system. Being so young, none of my surrounding community talked about grief. My community valued silence in suffering, which was especially damaging to my fifth-grade brain, who had just lost her father. I was seen as the depressing friend going through more than those around me and the friend that people did not want to be around because of it. The mindset of these kids was no fault of their own but was a reflection of the environment they had grown up in. They were taught that their mental health was a matter they were supposed to keep to themselves, and suffering was supposed to happen in silence to get around being the “negative” friend. So, as one could guess, when my mom immediately put me into counseling after my father’s death, that choice caused quite a stir. My mom had grown up in a different environment, where counseling was viewed as a healthy way to talk out emotions and process hardships. Through her encouragement, I was able to stay in counseling and brush past the disagreements of those around me. Being placed in counseling was the best decision my mom could have ever made. Having a place to let out my emotions and work through my trauma helped me walk through unimaginable situations and heavy grief. I was also able to slowly introduce my friends to the power of talking about the hard things and how that fosters authenticity. In talking about my mental health openly with those around me, I was able to foster their vulnerability. I quickly became the person everyone went to for advice, as I was a safe place free of judgment. I could view my hardships as something that gave me wisdom and perspective rather than hindering my life. Most importantly, I was able to point my friends toward the benefits of seeking professionals for advice and how learning to deal with things effectively transferred to every single area of their lives. The ability to be a part of that environment and provide for others is the main contributor to what I want to do with the rest of my life: be a counselor. I have seen how psychology and counseling has renewed joy in my life and those around me. In learning how to deal with my father’s suicide through counseling and effectively coping with grief, I was able to also deal with a car through my home, my mother’s breast cancer, and walk through the unimaginable. Counseling has given me perspective and wisdom through the trials I have walked through, and I could not imagine myself doing anything else. Everyone should go to a counselor, whether or not they think they are going through enough to qualify themselves as needing one. Everyone can benefit from having a safe place to talk out their emotions and gain perspective from someone older and wiser than themselves. Through counseling and learning how to process emotions, we could be slow to anger and quick to love. These attributes would be incredibly beneficial in our day-to-day lives by building connections with those around us, bettering our communities and work environments, and giving us the tools to serve others better. In bettering ourselves, natural fruit is seen, and we experience life the way it was supposed to be: with abundant joy.

When I was ten, just six words changed my life, faith, and heart forever: “Your dad is not coming home.” I had never experienced real grief before my father’s suicide, and it was a shock to my system. Being so young, none of my surrounding community talked about grief or any of the “hard” things. My friends at the time were the “smile and act like nothing is wrong” type, which was especially damaging to my fifth-grade brain, who had just lost her father. I was seen as the depressing friend going through more than those around me and the friend that people did not want to be around because of it. The mindset of these kids was no fault of their own but was a reflection of the environment they had grown up in. They were taught that their mental health was a matter they were supposed to keep to themselves, and suffering was supposed to happen in silence to get around being the “negative” friend. So, as one could guess, when my mom immediately put me into counseling after my father’s death, that choice caused quite a stir. My mom had grown up in a different environment, where counseling for her was viewed as a healthy way to talk out emotions and process hardships that were impossible to process alone. Through her encouragement, I was able to stay in counseling and brush past the disagreements of those around me. Being placed in counseling was the best decision my mom could have ever made. Having a place to let out my emotions and work through my trauma helped me walk through unimaginable situations and heavy grief. I was also able to slowly introduce my friends to the power of talking about the hard things and how that fosters authenticity. In talking about my mental health openly with those around me, I was able to foster their vulnerability. I quickly became the person everyone went to for advice, as I was a safe place free of judgment. I could view my hardships as something that gave me wisdom and perspective rather than hindering my life. Most importantly, I was able to point my friends toward the benefits of seeking professionals for advice and how learning to deal with things effectively transferred to every single area of their lives. The ability to be a part of that environment and provide for others is the main contributor to what I want to do with the rest of my life: be a counselor. I have seen how psychology and counseling has renewed joy in my life and those around me. In learning how to deal with my father’s suicide through counseling and effectively coping with grief, I was able to also deal with a car through my home, my mother’s breast cancer, and walk through the unimaginable. Counseling has given me perspective and wisdom through the trials I have walked through, and I could not imagine myself doing anything else. Everyone can benefit from having a safe place to talk out their emotions and gain perspective from someone older and wiser than themselves. Through counseling and learning how to process emotions, we could be slow to anger and quick to love. These attributes would be incredibly beneficial in our day-to-day lives by building connections with those around us, bettering our communities and work environments, and giving us the tools to serve others better. In bettering ourselves, natural fruit is seen, and we experience life the way it was supposed to be: with abundant joy.

When I was ten, just six words changed my life, faith, and heart forever: “Your dad is not coming home.” I had never experienced real grief before my father’s suicide, and it was a shock to my system. Being so young, none of my surrounding community talked about grief or any of the “hard” things. My friends at the time were the “smile and act like nothing is wrong” type, which was especially damaging to my fifth-grade brain, who had just lost her father. I was seen as the depressing friend going through more than those around me and the friend that people did not want to be around because of it. The mindset of these kids was no fault of their own but was a reflection of the environment they had grown up in. They were taught that their mental health was a matter they were supposed to keep to themselves, and suffering was supposed to happen in silence to get around being the “negative” friend. So, as one could guess, when my mom immediately put me into counseling after my father’s death, that choice caused quite a stir. My mom had grown up in a different environment, where counseling for her was viewed as a healthy way to talk out emotions and process hardships that were impossible to process alone. Through her encouragement, I was able to stay in counseling and brush past the disagreements of those around me. Being placed in counseling was the best decision my mom could have ever made. Having a place to let out my emotions and work through my trauma helped me walk through unimaginable situations and heavy grief. I was also able to slowly introduce my friends to the power of talking about the hard things and how that fosters authenticity. In talking about my mental health openly with those around me, I was able to foster their vulnerability. I quickly became the person everyone went to for advice, as I was a safe place free of judgment. I could view my hardships as something that gave me wisdom and perspective rather than hindering my life. Most importantly, I was able to point my friends toward the benefits of seeking professionals for advice and how learning to deal with things effectively transferred to every single area of their lives. The ability to be a part of that environment and provide for others is the main contributor to what I want to do with the rest of my life: be a counselor. I have seen how psychology and counseling has renewed joy in my life and those around me. In learning how to deal with my father’s suicide through counseling and effectively coping with grief, I was able to also deal with a car through my home, my mother’s breast cancer, and walk through the unimaginable. Counseling has given me perspective and wisdom through the trials I have walked through, and I could not imagine myself doing anything else. Everyone can benefit from having a safe place to talk out their emotions and gain perspective from someone older and wiser than themselves. Through counseling and learning how to process emotions, we could be slow to anger and quick to love. These attributes would be incredibly beneficial in our day-to-day lives by building connections with those around us, bettering our communities and work environments, and giving us the tools to serve others better. In bettering ourselves, natural fruit is seen, and we experience life the way it was supposed to be: with abundant joy.

When I was ten, just six words changed my life, faith, and heart forever: “Your dad is not coming home.” I had never experienced real grief before my father’s suicide, and it was a shock to my system. Being so young, none of my surrounding community talked about grief or any of the “hard” things. My friends at the time were the “smile and act like nothing is wrong” type, which was especially damaging to my fifth-grade brain, who had just lost her father. I was seen as the depressing friend going through more than those around me and the friend that people did not want to be around because of it. The mindset of these kids was no fault of their own but was a reflection of the environment they had grown up in. They were taught that their mental health was a matter they were supposed to keep to themselves, and suffering was supposed to happen in silence to get around being the “negative” friend. So, as one could guess, when my mom immediately put me into counseling after my father’s death, that choice caused quite a stir. My mom had grown up in a different environment, where counseling for her was viewed as a healthy way to talk out emotions and process hardships that were impossible to process alone. Through her encouragement, I was able to stay in counseling and brush past the disagreements of those around me. Being placed in counseling was the best decision my mom could have ever made. Having a place to let out my emotions and work through my trauma helped me walk through unimaginable situations and heavy grief. I was also able to slowly introduce my friends to the power of talking about the hard things and how that fosters authenticity. In talking about my mental health openly with those around me, I was able to foster their vulnerability. I quickly became the person everyone went to for advice, as I was a safe place free of judgment. I could view my hardships as something that gave me wisdom and perspective rather than hindering my life. Most importantly, I was able to point my friends toward the benefits of seeking professionals for advice and how learning to deal with things effectively transferred to every single area of their lives. The ability to be a part of that environment and provide for others is the main contributor to what I want to do with the rest of my life: be a counselor. I have seen how psychology and counseling has renewed joy in my life and those around me. In learning how to deal with my father’s suicide through counseling and effectively coping with grief, I was able to also deal with a car through my home, my mother’s breast cancer, and walk through the unimaginable. Counseling has given me perspective and wisdom through the trials I have walked through, and I could not imagine myself doing anything else. Everyone can benefit from having a safe place to talk out their emotions and gain perspective from someone older and wiser than themselves. Through counseling and learning how to process emotions, we could be slow to anger and quick to love. These attributes would be incredibly beneficial in our day-to-day lives by building connections with those around us, bettering our communities and work environments, and giving us the tools to serve others better. In bettering ourselves, natural fruit is seen, and we experience life the way it was supposed to be: with abundant joy.

When I was ten, just six words changed my life, faith, and heart forever: “Your dad is not coming home.” I had never experienced real grief before my father’s suicide, and it was a shock to my system. Being so young, none of my surrounding community talked about grief or any of the “hard” things. My friends at the time were the “smile and act like nothing is wrong” type, which was especially damaging to my fifth-grade brain, who had just lost her father. I was seen as the depressing friend going through more than those around me and the friend that people did not want to be around because of it. The mindset of these kids was no fault of their own but was a reflection of the environment they had grown up in. They were taught that their mental health was a matter they were supposed to keep to themselves, and suffering was supposed to happen in silence to get around being the “negative” friend. So, as one could guess, when my mom immediately put me into counseling after my father’s death, that choice caused quite a stir. My mom had grown up in a different environment, where counseling for her was viewed as a healthy way to talk out emotions and process hardships that were impossible to process alone. Through her encouragement, I was able to stay in counseling and brush past the disagreements of those around me. Being placed in counseling was the best decision my mom could have ever made. Having a place to let out my emotions and work through my trauma helped me walk through unimaginable situations and heavy grief. I was also able to slowly introduce my friends to the power of talking about the hard things and how that fosters authenticity. In talking about my mental health openly with those around me, I was able to foster their vulnerability. I quickly became the person everyone went to for advice, as I was a safe place free of judgment. I could view my hardships as something that gave me wisdom and perspective rather than hindering my life. Most importantly, I was able to point my friends toward the benefits of seeking professionals for advice and how learning to deal with things effectively transferred to every single area of their lives. The ability to be a part of that environment and provide for others is the main contributor to what I want to do with the rest of my life: be a counselor. I have seen how psychology and counseling have renewed joy in my life and those around me. In learning how to deal with my father’s suicide through counseling and effectively coping with grief, I was able to also deal with a car through my home, my mother’s breast cancer, and walk through the unimaginable. Counseling has given me perspective and wisdom through the trials I have walked through, and I could not imagine myself doing anything else. Everyone can benefit from having a safe place to talk out their emotions and gain perspective from someone older and wiser than themselves. Through counseling and learning how to process emotions, we could be slow to anger and quick to love. These attributes would be incredibly beneficial in our day-to-day lives by building connections with those around us, bettering our communities and work environments, and giving us the tools to serve others better. In bettering ourselves, natural fruit is seen, and we experience life the way it was supposed to be: with abundant joy.

When I was ten, just six words changed my life, faith, and heart forever: “Your dad is not coming home.” I had never experienced real grief before my father’s suicide, and it was a shock to my system. Being so young, none of my surrounding community talked about grief or any of the “hard” things. My friends at the time were the “smile and act like nothing is wrong” type, which was especially damaging to my fifth-grade brain, who had just lost her father. I was seen as the depressing friend going through more than those around me and the friend that people did not want to be around because of it. The mindset of these kids was no fault of their own but was a reflection of the environment they had grown up in. They were taught that their mental health was a matter they were supposed to keep to themselves, and suffering was supposed to happen in silence to get around being the “negative” friend. So, as one could guess, when my mom immediately put me into counseling after my father’s death, that choice caused quite a stir. My mom had grown up in a different environment, where counseling for her was viewed as a healthy way to talk out emotions and process hardships that were impossible to process alone. Through her encouragement, I was able to stay in counseling and brush past the disagreements of those around me. Being placed in counseling was the best decision my mom could have ever made. Having a place to let out my emotions and work through my trauma helped me walk through unimaginable situations and heavy grief. I was also able to slowly introduce my friends to the power of talking about the hard things and how that fosters authenticity. In talking about my mental health openly with those around me, I was able to foster their vulnerability. I quickly became the person everyone went to for advice, as I was a safe place free of judgment. I could view my hardships as something that gave me wisdom and perspective rather than hindering my life. Most importantly, I was able to point my friends toward the benefits of seeking professionals for advice and how learning to deal with things effectively transferred to every single area of their lives. The ability to be a part of that environment and provide for others is the main contributor to what I want to do with the rest of my life: be a counselor. I have seen how psychology and counseling has renewed joy in my life and those around me. In learning how to deal with my father’s suicide through counseling and effectively coping with grief, I was able to also deal with a car through my home, my mother’s breast cancer, and walk through the unimaginable. Counseling has given me perspective and wisdom through the trials I have walked through, and I could not imagine myself doing anything else. Everyone can benefit from having a safe place to talk out their emotions and gain perspective from someone older and wiser than themselves. Through counseling and learning how to process emotions, we could be slow to anger and quick to love. These attributes would be incredibly beneficial in our day-to-day lives by building connections with those around us, bettering our communities and work environments, and giving us the tools to serve others better. In bettering ourselves, natural fruit is seen, and we experience life the way it was supposed to be: with abundant joy.

When I was ten, just six words changed my life, faith, and heart forever: “Your dad is not coming home.” I had never experienced real grief before my father’s suicide, and it was a shock to my system. Being so young, none of my surrounding community talked about grief or any of the “hard” things. My friends at the time were the “smile and act like nothing is wrong” type, which was especially damaging to my fifth-grade brain, who had just lost her father. I was seen as the depressing friend going through more than those around me and the friend that people did not want to be around because of it. The mindset of these kids was no fault of their own but was a reflection of the environment they had grown up in. They were taught that their mental health was a matter they were supposed to keep to themselves, and suffering was supposed to happen in silence to get around being the “negative” friend. So, as one could guess, when my mom immediately put me into counseling after my father’s death, that choice caused quite a stir. My mom had grown up in a different environment, where counseling for her was viewed as a healthy way to talk out emotions and process hardships that were impossible to process alone. Through her encouragement, I was able to stay in counseling and brush past the disagreements of those around me. Being placed in counseling was the best decision my mom could have ever made. Having a place to let out my emotions and work through my trauma helped me walk through unimaginable situations and heavy grief. I was also able to slowly introduce my friends to the power of talking about the hard things and how that fosters authenticity. In talking about my mental health openly with those around me, I was able to foster their vulnerability. I quickly became the person everyone went to for advice, as I was a safe place free of judgment. I could view my hardships as something that gave me wisdom and perspective rather than hindering my life. Most importantly, I was able to point my friends toward the benefits of seeking professionals for advice and how learning to deal with things effectively transferred to every single area of their lives. The ability to be a part of that environment and provide for others is the main contributor to what I want to do with the rest of my life: be a counselor. I have seen how psychology and counseling have renewed joy in my life and those around me. In learning how to deal with my father’s suicide through counseling and effectively coping with grief, I was able to also deal with a car through my home, my mother’s breast cancer, and walk through the unimaginable. Counseling has given me perspective and wisdom through the trials I have walked through, and I could not imagine myself doing anything else. Everyone can benefit from having a safe place to talk out their emotions and gain perspective from someone older and wiser than themselves. Through counseling and learning how to process emotions, we could be slow to anger and quick to love. These attributes would be incredibly beneficial in our day-to-day lives by building connections with those around us, bettering our communities and work environments, and giving us the tools to serve others better. In bettering ourselves, natural fruit is seen, and we experience life the way it was supposed to be: with abundant joy.

In the spring of my sophomore year, my family was displaced after three teenagers drove through our home. A couple of weeks after this happened, COVID hit. We packed our belongings, moved out of our home, and lived in a hotel. Virtual learning in a hotel during a global pandemic was cramped and exhausting. After two months of sleeping in the same room, we moved into a rental home where my mom got diagnosed with breast cancer. Doing virtual learning in a foreign space with my only parent undergoing cancer treatment was draining. On top of that, I was in my Junior year, the most important and busy year of high school. I was overwhelmed. We returned to our house after six months of living in a rental home. Two days after we moved in, my mom had a double mastectomy. Her recovery was long and hard. She could do very little and required much assistance, even during class while I was virtual. A lot of responsibility fell on me. I made dinner every night, took my sister where she needed to be, and did all the chores on top of my schoolwork. Though incredibly stressed and busy, I helped provide for my family. Since I got my license, I have taken the initiative to take my sister where she needs to go so my mom can continue providing for our family. This requires me to make many sacrifices and miss many events I would love to attend. Though I am sad I cannot participate in those events, I understand that my role in my family is essential and that we would not be able to operate without it. I am so thankful that I get to step up and help my mom, especially with all the work she puts into helping me. Even with my home and school life incredibly busy, I worked consistently. Junior year, I began tutoring various kids in math. I would wake up at 7:00 for school, start homework around 3:00, Tutor three times a week at 8:00, then resume homework and do that until 2:00 in the morning. Even with being stretched very thin, I was full of joy. I loved working with the families that I did, and I thoroughly enjoyed the classes I was taking. I saw my commitment to being there for the kids I tutored was essential to their classroom success. On harder days than others, that is what kept me going. Without the support system around me, I would not have been able to get through my junior year. Many teachers went above and beyond to check in on me and encourage me at school. At home, my family comforted me and helped me work through the events we were experiencing together. While working, the kids I tutored reminded me of the joy experienced in the little things, as simple as getting a math problem correctly. These people helped me learn how important it is to have a strong community behind me. The abundance of encouragement from family and friends gave me the strength to put my life into perspective. They helped me focus on the tasks before me without becoming overwhelmed by the small things. Their encouragement is what allowed me to make the sacrifices that I did. I learned that much joy could come from making hard decisions, even though they sometimes seem impossible. Most importantly, I saw that sacrifice is not a loss but a gain that can impact others significantly and extend beyond myself.

Disney Cruising, to me, is a refuge where people who have experienced an unimaginable loss can begin to heal their wounds. It was the first trip I went on with my family after my dad passed from suicide, and I would not have it any other way. I was ten years old when my dad passed, and my sister was five. My mom was understandably overwhelmed, and so were we. Unfortunately, there is nothing you can do to prepare for the loss of an immediate family member, and there is no way to handle it perfectly. We were all held down by the weight of our grief and severely lacked joy. My mom had heard of Disney Cruising from a friend and thought it could be an excellent way to escape the bubble of sadness we were in. I do not believe she could entirely comprehend the weight of that decision. Walking onto the Disney Dream in 2014, my sister and I regained our childhoods. Our innocence was so quickly taken from us at such a young age. We were experiencing things that no other kid around us was experiencing, and to say we did not know how to handle that was an understatement. My sister and I were quickly met with people who intentionally and selflessly got to know us. We spent much time in the kids club with a staff of caring people who loved on us where we were at. They understood our story and kept a close eye on us to ensure that we were experiencing our childhood as it was supposed to be experienced- with unbridled joy. My mom was able to get alone time to sit and relax and unpack the craziness of the past couple of months. The staff also intentionally got to know and loved her incredibly well. She was able to lay down the burdens she had been carrying, experience true joy, and watch her children experience the same as well, which had seemed impossible just a few days before. My family and I will forever say that Disney Cruising brought us our first smiles in an unimaginable season. It motivated my mom to become a travel agent, so we could continue to experience travel while on a single-parent income. Disney Cruising has continued to provide a haven for my family through dark seasons like my mother's breast cancer and being displaced due to a car driving through our home. I do not have the right words to describe all that Disney Cruising has done for my family. What I do know is this: without Disney Cruising, my family would not have been able to heal the way we did, and we would truly not be the people we are today.

Looking out the car window as rain poured down the side, I listened to "I Wish You Would" for the first time. It was 2014, and I was ten years old. I was doing that theatrical music video thing where you imagine what you are doing is the most important thing in the world. Little did I know I would hear a song that would rock my world and perfectly describe the despair I was feeling. May 6, 2014, started like many other days did. I woke up, got ready for school, and brushed my teeth with my One Direction toothbrush. I heard my dad leaving and did not feel the need to say goodbye. I knew I would see him the next day anyway. I did not want to spoil his birthday presents, which I knew I would do if I spoke to him. So, I stayed in my room. The day then continued. I went to school, came home, and sat at the dinner table waiting for him with his birthday presents he never received. That night, he took his own life. Being 10, I blamed myself for not saying goodbye and not understanding the proper weight of my actions. With all of this in mind, hearing the chorus of "I Wish You Would" absolutely broke me. I wished so incredibly much that my dad would come back. Like Taylor underestimated the weight of her actions, I underestimated the weight of a simple goodbye. I wished I could redo that day again and get the goodbye I knew I needed. Though "I Wish You Would" pointed out where my heart was in that particular season, it also showed me what it looks like to love someone, even in their brokenness. Instead of beating myself up for not understanding the fragility of life at ten years old, I realized how well I loved my dad, even in all that he did. Had it not been for Taylor Swift writing "I Wish You Would," I would not have been able to realize this. I was never once mad at him for choosing suicide; I just wanted him back. Instead of defining his love for me based on one moment, I could see how he wholeheartedly loved me to the best of his ability in the time he was here. His love for me was by no means perfect, just like the love Taylor so excellently describes, but it was intense. If you ask anyone who knew my father about his life, they would say one thing: That he loved his children. Instead of dwelling on what could have been, I chose to see my father as an imperfect human who loved to the best of his ability, which is how you could describe us all, anyways.

Looking around the room at the 500 sets of eyes staring at me, I realized just how unqualified I was to be standing on that stage. There were veterans, people who had served next to the president, and people who had risked their lives in some of the most challenging situations imaginable. Somehow, some random 18-year-old from a Texas Suburb was chosen to speak at this event in some odd twist of fate. I have always said that I have been given the story I have been given to share it. When I was ten years old, my father passed by suicide. I had lived most of my life before that in some la la land, not fully comprehending how hard life could be. After he passed, I struggled with finding my identity in my circumstances and often found myself lacking joy. Just as I started to get to a healthy place with my father's passing, a car ran through my home, and my mom was diagnosed with breast cancer. I was crushed. I did not understand how to move forward, and my anxiety overtook my mind. My family struggled with bills, being single-parent, and paying for my mom to fight cancer. In my senior year of high school, I could reflect on my life and see how the Lord led me through the entire time, even when I could not see it. I was able to work through my anxiety and found solace in counseling. I knew that I had been given the story I had been given for a reason and that it was up to me to share how the Lord's faithfulness with others. This moment is when speaking at Maggie Megellas' Celebration of Life fell into my lap. I could not have asked for a better opportunity to share my story with others. I could also not have been walking into a more respected room of people. I felt incredibly blessed and honored to be there. I sometimes forget how loved and seen I am in all I have walked through. Speaking at Maggie's celebration of life reminded me how I have been specifically chosen for a significant purpose. It ignited a fire in my heart to continue to use what I have been given to make others feel loved, chosen, and seen. It also helped me recognize the importance of talking about suicide openly. Opening the conversations on mental health, especially around veterans, is so incredibly important. I hope that in sharing my life with them, I was able to show them how awful it is but how it is also possible to walk out in freedom from deep grief. I plan to continue to make others feel loved, chosen, and seen in my career as a psychologist. Being open about mental health is essential in bringing the mental battles in our brains to light. In exposing things to the light, we take away the power of darkness. I want to share the freedom I have found in my mind with others, and becoming a counselor is the best way for me to do so. I am excited and encouraged by the way I have already seen joy found in liberation from depression and anxiety, and I cannot wait to be able to do this as a career.

I went to bed on May 6th, 2014, not knowing my life would be changed forever. I woke up to words that would forever alter the course of my future, "Your dad has committed suicide." Being 10 years old in 2014, I grew up around kids who had no idea what the word "suicide" meant and did not understand the gravity of my situation. I walked into school a week later, passing by kids who whispered the sentence, "Do you think she's going to kill herself too?" My mom put my sister and me into counseling a week after my dad passed, which I am incredibly thankful for now. At the time, I was embarrassed. No one I knew went to counseling or talked about it, and speaking on mental health as a 10-year-old felt taboo. As I got older, the conversations around mental health started to change. People became more open and receptive to counseling, and I saw more and more of my friends starting to go. I grew up with many girls and guys who were depressed and anxious, and too scared to talk about it. They suffered in silence for years. As mental health became more openly talked about, I could confidently share how counseling had transformed my life. I am a very naturally anxious human. Counseling has taught me how to process my emotions in a helpful and not harmful way. Without counseling, I do not know if I would be here today. In sharing this with others, I have shown many people the importance of going to a counselor. As many of them have started to go to counseling, I have watched their lives transform. Though they do struggle, they are no longer struggling alone and in silence. They have been given resources to actively combat the wars in their minds and now know that they are not alone in their struggles. I feel incredibly blessed with the story that I have been given. I have been able to share it with so many, which makes what I have been through worth it. If what I have been through can open up conversations on mental health and counseling and show others that they can get through whatever season they are in, I would not trade the cards I have been given for the world.

Ever since the 4th grade, counseling has been my safe haven. Having a place to let out my emotions and work through my trauma has helped me walk through unimaginable situations and heavy grief. The ability to be a part of that environment and provide for others is the main contributor to what I want to do with the rest of my life: be a psychologist. I have been a part of PALS in my junior and senior years. PALS lets me travel to various elementary campuses during the school day and act as a mentor for the kids there. Before they are placed in PALS, most of the kids we mentor do not feel like they have anyone who listens to them or cares about their wellbeing. With this program, kids talk through their experiences with someone they trust. Being able to see the growth in their everyday lives has been the greatest honor of my high school life. Watching them succeed and work through their difficulties in healthy ways is incredible to witness, especially with some of the hardships these kids experience. To encounter the joy that it brings them to have someone genuinely care about their lives is a massive privilege. I would love to help others experience that joy for the rest of my life. PALS was a safe haven for me after three drunk teens coming home from my school's dance literally ran through my house. The car went through 3 rooms, into our garage, and was a substantial financial hit. A couple of weeks after this happened, COVID hit. We were forced to pack up our belongings, move entirely out of our house, and live in a hotel. Virtual learning in a hotel during a global pandemic was cramped and exhausting. After two months of sleeping in the same room, we finally moved into a rental home. Just as that happened, my mom, a widow, got diagnosed with breast cancer. Not being able to be in my own home while walking through one of the most challenging points of my life was incredibly frustrating. Not only that, but having to move back into my house and unpack fully two days before my mom's double mastectomy was extremely overwhelming. If the people who ran through my home had made better choices that night, their lives and mine could have looked incredibly different. I now know that a single choice, no matter how big or small it may seem, can impact the lives of many. I am so thankful that I had PALS and counseling as a positive outlet while going through that unimaginable time. The support and love I was given helped me get through that year. Despite that being the most challenging year of my life, I managed to keep all A’s all year, which was incredibly rewarding. I pushed myself past my limits and learned how to compartmentalize the events around me to get what I needed to done. I leaned on my relationship with Christ, and He gave me all the strength that I needed to get through that time. The support I was shown throughout that year is the same type of support I want to show others through a career in Psychology. I am amazed at how God has worked in my life through my story thus far, and I cannot wait to see how he works next.