A challenge is when you push yourself past the boundaries of everyday comfort. Challenging yourself to have hard conversations, uncomfortable presentations, or odd interactions with strangers is difficult. Throughout my years of school, I have had multiple different teachers, just like the average student. However, unlike many of my peers, I have attended multiple schools in the past 18 years. With three different preschools, four different elementary schools, two different middle schools, and one high school, the ability to make friends became second nature. I've been in schools in the Midwest and in the East. I have friends from when I was three to friends I made in my senior year. I've made my fair share of connections, but I’ve still struggled in school. I've struggled in chemistry and in mathematics; I'm not the brightest history student or the best English writer. However, one thing I have struggled most with is having true, steadfast, honest friendships. For the children who have gone from one school to the next, it's important to understand that you're always going to long for being friends with people straight away in new settings. Moving to my current high school has always been one of my greatest struggles and always will be. Moving to a small town is hard enough. Moving to a school where everyone has been friends since preschool is harder, without a doubt. The phrase, “before you were here,” becomes a constant in conversations about childhood or when recalling stories. Moms will always show the pictures of your friends you made last year when they were all two. That feeling of being the odd one out is slowly everywhere. There's nothing wrong with it, nothing needs to change, but it slowly consumes you in a feeling of despair and grief, a self-sabotaged feeling where you can never be that friend. It may seem incredibly dramatic, and honestly, I can understand why. However, you can't understand the feeling until you're thrown into an occasion where you have nothing but to sit in silence while others tell stories about birthdays, lake days, and summer camp. When they were enjoying the lake and birthdays, I was packing up and moving everything I knew to strange and new places, or visiting my old lives. Overcoming the feeling of grief of a “normal” childhood is not meant for the weak. Some days you're excited for new friendships, and sometimes you feel the overwhelming urge to cry while eating ice cream. I learned that there are only three different friendships in life. When you're young, it's hard to understand that not everyone will be your best friend; in essence, that's also refreshing, knowing that you don't have to strain yourself trying to be a friend to everyone. The biggest lesson I have learned in relationships is that there are the friends that you talk to in passing, you will have either one or two best friends in life, and they typically come to you when you least expect. Finally, you're going to have the built in best friends; your family. I've learned that not everyone is lucky enough to have family as their best friends. Maturing is realizing that, yes, I have struggled with having close friendships when I was a little girl, but I have learned to find comfort in my sisters and mother, my aunts and cousins, my grandmothers, and my pets. Friends aren't just the people you grew up with since preschool. Friends are the childhood dog that grew up with you and lived to be seventeen. There are challenges everyone goes through in school, whether that be climbing the monkey bars, passing a chemistry test, sports games, or navigating friendships. I've learned to overcome the grief and guilt of absences in friendships as a girl, to find comfort in the furry paws at home and cousins at family gatherings. I wish every child who's moved from different schools, to places unknown, that they find self-love and friendship in people and places that don't leave them grieving. I've learned to embrace being the odd one out. The feeling of being late to the friendships in my life has been something I have struggled with for years, however this has developed into something I'm not scared of anymore. Being able to persevere through difficult times and hard relationships is a skill most are unfamiliar with. I've learned that, rather than continuing to make it a struggle I fight with, I've made it something that has taught me to value the relationships I have made. I've made friendships in new places, with new teammates and schools. Every relationship I have earned along the way has shaped me into who I am today, a strong independent woman striving to become something.

For anyone who's been the child of a veteran, they can understand the moment of silence when you realize you asked a question that hurt your parent too much to talk about. The moment of agonizing silence, watching the floods of memories behind their eyes. Why is it that I have never been to war, seen horror films in person, fought for survival, but I can feel the pain that lingers? I'm the daughter of an Iraq War veteran, and my Dad survived. He's a man who pushed forward, raised a family, owned a business, and got a bachelor's degree at forty seven. He’s a man who works beyond standard hours because of his love for family and the belief in hard work. As the eldest daughter of five girls, the role of leadership is gifted to you at an early age. From bossing my sisters around in princess tiaras to running and organizing programs like yearbook club, small business hair salons, digital platforms, and vacation bible schools, it's safe to say I know how to run an operation or two. Don't be fooled by leadership tactics or organized planners. My room is a mess, I would rather eat at home instead of going out, and I love softball. My car is always full of younger siblings or half-eaten snacks from when we were in a rush. I love to see the sunset, and I love to push myself to do better, be better. I get my sense of leadership and obstacle jumping from my parents. I am a woman who came from generations of women who never got a degree; my mother was a victim of the same virus as her mother, sisters, and grandmothers before her. I am from a man who came from a broken and split family and survived years in the army as an ammunition specialist during the Iraq War. My parents are the definition of survivors; however, they are also entrepreneurs. In the early years of my childhood, I can remember how my parents scrambled with their new business. My mother was the head of the operation, and Dad was the muscle. The business plan was simple: find used furniture, clean and polish it up, then re-sell. As two young adults with three young children, my parents made a good income, worked their own hours, and ran a fully credible, operating system. My parents are entrepreneurs who know how to start a business from the ground up, to make the weeks of struggling and turn it into profit. My parents' entrepreneurial journey inspired me to become my own boss, to lead myself and others, and most importantly, never allow there to be a ceiling above me. My parents have survived traumatic childhoods, became victims to their generational curse, survived war, raised five daughters, and after what seems like a history of challenge, they challenge themselves to become their own leaders. I will not be the next female in five generations to not get a degree; I will be the first woman in generations to have a degree. I dream of owning my own business and being my own boss, just like my parents have. I am the change that generations before me have dreamed about breaking. With that, I wish nothing more than to set the example that anyone can be more than what they were born into. I want to be the proof that anyone can achieve anything they set their minds and hearts to.