For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother’s womb. I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well. (Psalms 139: 13-16) Our God loves us each so deeply. We were intricately knit together as a perfect creation that our Lord designed. With a steady hand, he placed us each inside our mother’s womb, with a beautiful purpose called to fulfill. My pro-life position is deeply rooted in my personal experiences and my unwavering resolve that the Lord’s word is true. Growing up, I witnessed firsthand the challenges my mother faced as a young parent. When she found out she was pregnant with my sister, she was terrified. Many people in her life encouraged her to consider abortion, telling her that it would be easier and less complicated. However, my mother chose life for my sister. She embraced the responsibility of motherhood, and though it was incredibly difficult, she found strength and support in her faith. Her decision to keep my sibling, despite the challenges she faced, profoundly shaped my understanding of the value of life, especially the life of the unborn. From a young age, I learned that every life, no matter how unexpected or difficult, has inherent value because we are all created in the image of God. My mother’s decision to keep my sister, despite the obstacles in her path, taught me that life is a precious gift, one that should never be discarded or taken lightly. Her love for her children, despite the uncertainty she faced, reflected the biblical teaching that life is sacred and that we are all precious in God's sight. This foundation in faith solidified my belief in the beauty of life, and I carry that conviction with me today. I give credit to my local church for supporting young mothers and giving me the opportunity to do so as well. Although I am young, I am able to see barriers when they exist. Many of these young mothers feel as though there is no other way; that is a lie the enemy tells. Throughout high school, I spent a great deal of time volunteering for both my school and community. Many of these volunteer opportunities took place with organizations who systematically strive to eliminate barriers. Whether it was as simple as helping with donation drives for diapers, wipes, formula, and other needed supplies, or working directly with The Crisis Pregnancy Outreach Center, I have always valued the opportunity to support the brave women who choose life, not because it is the easy choice, but because it was God’s choice. Ultimately, my pro-life position is a reflection of my belief in God’s plan for each one of our lives, great and small. Just as my mother chose life for my sister, I believe it is our responsibility as a society to protect and defend the unborn, ensuring they have the opportunity to fulfill their God-given potential. It is my mission to continue advocating for life, supporting women in crisis, and sharing the message of hope that every life is sacred. Thank you for letting me speak on such an important topic and I am truly thankful for this scholarship opportunity and your help in securing my college dreams.

I, myself, was a student with special needs. I am passionate about becoming a special education teacher because I understand firsthand the profound impact that a supportive and understanding teacher can have on a student’s sense of self. Professor Bloom’s statement, "The purpose of teaching is to bring the student to his or her sense of his or her own presence," tugs at my heartstrings. It speaks to the idea of helping students realize their worth and uniqueness, something I struggled with growing up. In my own journey, I often felt invisible, less-than, and misunderstood, but the teachers who took the time to see me for who I truly was helped me discover my strengths and believe in my potential. There was a time I didn't believe in myself, but my teachers always did. As a future educator, my mission would be to guide my students toward their own sense of presence by nurturing their unique talents, encouraging self-expression, and fostering a classroom environment where every student feels valued and capable. I plan to provide the support and encouragement that can help students like me feel empowered, confident, and proud of their unique abilities, because I have walked in their shoes and have felt their struggles. Fairy Tale : Lila the Leaf Once upon a time, in a faraway forest, there was a tiny leaf named Lila. She grew on the branch of a tall tree, surrounded by many other leaves. Each of the leaves on her branch was big, strong, and green, while Lila was small and pale in comparison. She looked around and noticed that the other leaves seemed to flutter gracefully in the wind, while she barely moved at all. Lila felt different, unsure of where she belonged in the great big forest. Every day, the other leaves danced beautifully in the breeze with ease, their bodies twirling and fluttering as if they were born to sway in the wind. They laughed with the breeze, moving in perfect harmony. But Lila was too small and fragile to move the way they did. When the wind blew, she barely swayed. She watched in silence, wishing to be more like them. Lila began to feel invisible. “Why can’t I be like the other leaves?” she wondered, feeling sad and alone. The wind heard Lila, and felt compassion for her. One day, as the wind began to blow, Lila felt the breeze touch her gently. She tried to move, but she was still too small, too weak to catch the wind like the others. She felt helpless and out of place. “I’m not good enough,” she thought. “I’m not like them. I don’t belong.” Now, the wind was friends with many creatures in this forest. The wind talks in quiet whispers, but all the creatures hear. The wind told of her fondness for Lila and searched far and wide for just the right helper to send her way. Very soon, the wind sent a wise old butterfly named Bella to visit Lila. Bella noticed Lila’s downcast face and slowed her flight. She perched on a nearby branch and asked kindly, “Why do you look so sad, little leaf?” Lila sighed and whispered, “I’m not like the other leaves. I can’t dance in the breeze like they do. I feel so small, and I don’t think I matter.” Bella smiled warmly. “Oh, little leaf, every leaf is special in its own way. You may not dance in the breeze like the others, but that doesn’t mean you don’t have your own place in the world. Little Lila, do you know that you are so deeply loved?" Lila looked up, confused. “What do you mean? I can’t do what they do. I’ll never be as beautiful or graceful as they are and no one loves me deeply” Bella’s wings fluttered gently as she perched on a branch, her voice was soft but wise. “Let me tell you something. Sometimes, it takes time to discover your own way of being. You may not move like the others, but you have your own unique rhythm. The wind is not the same for every leaf, and neither are we. The wind, in fact, sent me here. The wind has watched you for most of your life. She finds you beautiful and determined, special amongst all the other leaves on this tree.” Over the course of the season, Bella spent time with Lila, teaching her to listen to the different winds that blew through the forest. She showed Lila how each breeze was unique. “The strong winds make some leaves swirl and twirl,” Bella explained. “But the gentler breezes help leaves like you find their own rhythm. They don’t need to dance in the same way. They help you sway gently, creating your own beauty.” At first, Lila wasn’t sure what Bella meant. How could she ever move like the other leaves? But she trusted the butterfly and decided to listen carefully to the wind. One morning, as the sun’s light filtered through the trees, a soft breeze blew through the forest. The wind sent this breeze as a gift, just for Lila. Lila felt it brush against her edges, comforting and secure. She stretched her tiny stem and swayed with the breeze, trying to feel the rhythm. The gentle wind whispered to her, guiding her to move in a peaceful, graceful way. As she swayed, Lila began to realize that this breeze wasn’t like the strong winds that made the other leaves twirl and spin. This breeze was softer, more delicate. It encouraged her to move slowly, to bend and flutter in a quiet, steady motion. Lila smiled as she realized that this was her way of dancing. It wasn’t like the others, but it was beautiful in its own way. With each passing day, Lila continued to dance with the gentler winds. She didn’t try to mimic the other leaves anymore. Instead, she embraced her own unique way of moving. As she swayed with the breeze, she felt her heart grow warm with pride. She wasn’t like the other leaves, and that was perfectly okay. Her way of moving, her soft, graceful dance, was just as beautiful. Lila’s gentle movements created ripples of beauty throughout the forest. The animals began to notice her. The birds perched on nearby branches, the squirrels paused in their busy movements, and the rabbits watched from below. They all admired how Lila moved with such calmness and serenity. Lila’s newfound confidence made her realize that she was just as important as any other leaf in the forest. It didn’t matter that she didn’t move in the same way the others did. She was special because she was unique. Her presence in the forest added a special kind of beauty, a beauty that wasn’t loud or flashy, but quiet and peaceful. One day, Bella came back to visit Lila. She saw how the little leaf had blossomed into her own beautiful self. “Look at you, little leaf,” Bella said, smiling. “You’ve found your own rhythm.” Lila beamed with happiness. “Thank you for showing me that I didn’t need to be like the other leaves. I am happy being myself.” And so, Lila the leaf learned that she didn’t need to be like anyone else to matter. Her own soft dance in the breeze was enough, and she was proud of it. She had discovered that she had her own unique place in the world, just as every other leaf did. The forest was made up of many different leaves, each contributing their own beauty to the world. Lila realized that, in her own quiet way, she was as important as any other leaf. And the forest, with all its many leaves, was more beautiful because of the differences each one brought. Just like Lila, every student is unique and special in their own way. It’s important to support them in discovering their own rhythm, to embrace their individuality, and to remind them that they, too, matter. Just as Lila learned that she didn’t need to dance like the other leaves to be beautiful, every child can be encouraged to recognize their own worth and to shine in their own unique way.

As an education major at the University of Oklahoma, my struggles with ADHD and major depression have deeply shaped my desire to help children. There were many days when I gave up on myself and if it were not for the help of my teachers, counselors, and other supportive adults, I would not be here today. There were days when the weight of these challenges felt unbearable. My ADHD made it hard to focus, and depression made even the smallest tasks feel overwhelming. I often felt invisible, like I was the only one facing these battles. I watched others move through life with ease while I felt stuck. However, in my hardest moments, I learned that vulnerability is strength. I began opening up and allowed others to help me; I did not have to do life alone. I was met with compassion. It was in those moments of being seen and heard that I found healing. I realized that asking for help and prioritizing my mental wellbeing weren’t signs of weakness, but necessary acts of self-care. Since then, I’ve made it a point to offer that same support to others. I’ve reached out to classmates who seemed quiet or withdrawn, letting them know that I understand what it’s like to struggle. I’ve shared my experiences with mental health in hopes that others might feel less alone and more comfortable seeking help. I’ve also volunteered over 400 hours in my school and community, finding peace in serving others. In my future career, I plan to carry this passion forward. As an educator, I want to create a classroom where every student feels valued, seen, and heard. I will use my experiences to help young children develop grit and build resilience. I aim to be the teacher who creates a safe, supportive space, especially for those silently struggling, and show them that asking for help is a sign of strength, not failure. I've been in their shoes and believe I can make their walk a little more joyful. My experiences have shown me that our struggles don’t define us; they shape how we can support others. I will continue to use my story to offer hope, empathy, and understanding. Every future student I encounter will know they are never alone. I am proof that pain can become power. Thank you for helping to make my dream a reality.

I am applying to this scholarship with a mixture of vulnerability and resilience, laying out the stories of my life that have shaped me into the person I am today. Though it is terrifying and humbling to open up about my experiences, I believe that sharing my story is essential to fully understanding my journey and aspirations. From the outside, my life may have appeared idyllic, but beneath the surface is a story of hardship and perseverance. I am a survivor of emotional abuse, enduring a childhood marked by turmoil and self-doubt. The wounds inflicted upon me were invisible to the eye, yet they cut deep into my sense of self-worth and belonging. My deepest kept secret, that I share with you today, is the fact that I am an unaccompanied minor under the McKinney Vento Act. My homelife has been inconsistent at best and has added yet another layer of adversity to my high school experience. Growing up, I was convinced of my own inadequacy. Hindered by undiagnosed learning disabilities and untreated mental health challenges, I struggled to keep pace with my peers academically, socially, and emotionally. Despite these obstacles, I refused to surrender to the limitations imposed upon me. Instead, I found strength in the concept of grit—a resilience born from adversity and nurtured by unwavering determination. I like the word grit; I think it describes me well. Grit is something that doesn’t come from ease and privilege. Grit isn’t something you can detect from a GPA or test score. Grit becomes a gift to those of us who come from hard places, but have the determination to dream so big that we find our way out. My personal journey has been filled with setbacks and challenges, yet it has also been defined by growth and resilience. To those in the midst of hurt, my advice to you is to see past the pain. There is hope for your future and you have the power to author your own story. I refuse to be defined by my past; instead, I choose to celebrate the strength and fight that have carried me through life's darkest moments, and you can too. Where I used to be overpowered with my depression, set off course by my ADHD, confused by the ups downs of my hormone dysregulation, or hiding in my dark room from the fighting below, today, I stand before you as a testament to the power of perseverance—a dented, yet unbroken, individual who refuses to settle for anything less than I am capable of. I am unwavering in my commitment to becoming an educator, in honor of those who believed in me when I could not believe in myself. This has been my dream ever since I started dreaming. I want to live a life in service of others, especially children during their most uncertain times. I am deeply committed to using my experiences to connect with and uplift those who hurt, offering them the same compassion and understanding that got me where I am today. Receiving this scholarship would allow me to continue pursuing an education degree at The University of Oklahoma, as I am independently responsible to fund my education. This scholarship would affirm my belief in the value of resilience and determination. It will also provide validation of my journey and the strength I have gained along the way. I am deeply grateful for the opportunity to share my story with you and humbly request your consideration for this scholarship.

I am writing today with a mix of vulnerability and resilience, laying out the stories of my life that have shaped me into the person I am today. Though it is terrifying and humbling to open up about my experiences, I believe that sharing my story is essential to fully understanding my journey and aspirations. From the outside, my life may have appeared idyllic, but beneath the surface is a story of hardship and perseverance. I am a survivor of emotional abuse, enduring a childhood marked by turmoil and self-doubt. The wounds inflicted upon me were invisible to the eye, yet they cut deep into my sense of self-worth and belonging. My deepest kept secret, that I share with you today, is the fact that I am an unaccompanied minor under the McKinney Vento Act. My homelife has been inconsistent at best and has added yet another layer of adversity to my high school experience. Growing up, I held deep inside the disparaging words of my parents and teachers, convinced of my own inadequacy. Hindered by undiagnosed learning disabilities and untreated mental health challenges, I struggled to keep pace with my peers academically, socially, and emotionally. Despite these obstacles, I refused to surrender to the limitations imposed upon me. Instead, I found strength in the concept of grit—a resilience born from adversity and nurtured by unwavering determination. I like the word grit; I think it describes me well. Grit is something that doesn’t come from ease and privilege. Grit isn’t something you can detect from a GPA or test score. Grit becomes a gift to those of us who come from hard places, but have the determination to dream so big that we find our way out. My dreams extend beyond myself; they encompass a vision of service and compassion. My commitment to volunteerism is my proudest achievement. This year I will graduate as a Distinguished Service Graduate from Jenks High School, having completed well over 400 hours of service to my school and community. I am unwavering in my commitment to becoming a pediatric nurse, offering comfort and care to children and families facing trials. This has been my dream ever since I started dreaming. I want to live a life in service of others, especially children during their most uncertain times. I am deeply committed to using my experiences to connect with and uplift those who hurt, offering them the same compassion and understanding that I wished for during my darkest moments. Receiving this scholarship would allow me to attend the college of my dreams, something I am still fighting to achieve due to financial uncertainty. Receiving this scholarship would affirm my belief in the value of resilience and determination. It will also provide validation of my journey and the strength I have gained along the way. I am deeply grateful for the opportunity to share my story with you and humbly request your consideration for this scholarship.

I am writing today with a mix of vulnerability and resilience, laying out the stories of my life that have shaped me into the person I am today. Though it is terrifying and humbling to open up about my experiences, I believe that sharing my story is essential to fully understanding my journey and aspirations. From the outside, my life may have appeared idyllic, but beneath the surface is a story of hardship and perseverance. I am a survivor of emotional abuse, enduring a childhood marked by turmoil and self-doubt. The wounds inflicted upon me were invisible to the eye, yet they cut deep into my sense of self-worth and belonging. My deepest kept secret, that I share with you today, is the fact that I am an unaccompanied minor under the McKinney Vento Act. My homelife has been inconsistent at best and has added yet another layer of adversity to my high school experience. Growing up, I held deep inside the disparaging words of my parents and teachers, convinced of my own inadequacy. Hindered by undiagnosed learning disabilities and untreated mental health challenges, I struggled to keep pace with my peers academically, socially, and emotionally. Despite these obstacles, I refused to surrender to the limitations imposed upon me. Instead, I found strength in the concept of grit—a resilience born from adversity and nurtured by unwavering determination. I like the word grit; I think it describes me well. Grit is something that doesn’t come from ease and privilege. Grit isn’t something you can detect from a GPA or test score. Grit becomes a gift to those of us who come from hard places, but have the determination to dream so big that we find our way out. My personal journey has been filled with setbacks and challenges, yet it has also been defined by growth and resilience. I refuse to be defined by my past; instead, I choose to celebrate the strength and fight that have carried me through life's darkest moments. Where I used to be overpowered with my depression, set off course by my ADHD, confused by the ups downs of my hormone dysregulation, or hiding in my dark room from the fighting below, today, I stand before you as a testament to the power of perseverance—a dented, yet unbroken, individual who refuses to settle for anything less than I am capable of. My dreams extend beyond myself; they encompass a vision of service and compassion. My commitment to volunteerism is my proudest achievement. This year I will graduate as a Distinguished Service Graduate from Jenks High School, having completed well over 400 hours of service to my school and community. I am unwavering in my commitment to becoming a pediatric nurse, offering comfort and care to children and families facing trials. This has been my dream ever since I started dreaming. I want to live a life in service of others, especially children during their most uncertain times. I am deeply committed to using my experiences to connect with and uplift those who hurt, offering them the same compassion and understanding that I wished for during my darkest moments. Receiving this scholarship would allow me to attend the college of my dreams, something I am still fighting to achieve due to financial uncertainty. Receiving this scholarship would affirm my belief in the value of resilience and determination. It will also provide validation of my journey and the strength I have gained along the way. I am deeply grateful for the opportunity to share my story with you and humbly request your consideration for this scholarship.

I am writing today with a mix of vulnerability and resilience, laying out the stories of my life that have shaped me into the person I am today. Though it is terrifying and humbling to open up about my experiences, I believe that sharing my story is essential to fully understanding my journey and aspirations. From the outside, my life may have appeared idyllic, but beneath the surface is a story of hardship and perseverance. I am a survivor of emotional abuse, enduring a childhood marked by turmoil and self-doubt. The wounds inflicted upon me were invisible to the eye, yet they cut deep into my sense of self-worth and belonging. My deepest kept secret, that I share with you today, is the fact that I am an unaccompanied minor under the McKinney Vento Act. My homelife has been inconsistent at best and has added yet another layer of adversity to my high school experience. Growing up, I held deep inside the disparaging words of my parents and teachers, convinced of my own inadequacy. Hindered by undiagnosed learning disabilities and untreated mental health challenges, I struggled to keep pace with my peers academically, socially, and emotionally. Despite these obstacles, I refused to surrender to the limitations imposed upon me. Instead, I found strength in the concept of grit—a resilience born from adversity and nurtured by unwavering determination. I like the word grit; I think it describes me well. Grit is something that doesn’t come from ease and privilege. Grit isn’t something you can detect from a GPA or test score. Grit becomes a gift to those of us who come from hard places, but have the determination to dream so big that we find our way out. My personal journey has been filled with setbacks and challenges, yet it has also been defined by growth and resilience. I refuse to be defined by my past; instead, I choose to celebrate the strength and fight that have carried me through life's darkest moments. Where I used to be overpowered with my depression, set off course by my ADHD, confused by the ups downs of my hormone dysregulation, or hiding in my dark room from the fighting below, today, I stand before you as a testament to the power of perseverance—a dented, yet unbroken, individual who refuses to settle for anything less than I am capable of. My dreams extend beyond myself; they encompass a vision of service and compassion. My commitment to volunteerism is my proudest achievement. This year I will graduate as a Distinguished Service Graduate from Jenks High School, having completed well over 400 hours of service to my school and community. I am unwavering in my commitment to becoming a pediatric nurse, offering comfort and care to children and families facing trials. This has been my dream ever since I started dreaming. I want to live a life in service of others, especially children during their most uncertain times. I am deeply committed to using my experiences to connect with and uplift those who hurt, offering them the same compassion and understanding that I wished for during my darkest moments. Receiving this scholarship would allow me to attend the college of my dreams, something I am still fighting to achieve due to financial uncertainty. Receiving this scholarship would affirm my belief in the value of resilience and determination. It will also provide validation of my journey and the strength I have gained along the way. I am deeply grateful for the opportunity to share my story with you and humbly request your consideration for this scholarship.

I am writing today with a mix of vulnerability and resilience, laying out the stories of my life that have shaped me into the person I am today. Though it is terrifying and humbling to open up about my experiences, I believe that sharing my story is essential to fully understanding my journey and aspirations. From the outside, my life may have appeared idyllic, but beneath the surface is a story of hardship and perseverance. I am a survivor of emotional abuse, enduring a childhood marked by turmoil and self-doubt. The wounds inflicted upon me were invisible to the eye, yet they cut deep into my sense of self-worth and belonging. My deepest kept secret, that I share with you today, is the fact that I am an unaccompanied minor under the McKinney Vento Act. My homelife has been inconsistent at best and has added yet another layer of adversity to my high school experience. Growing up, I held deep inside the disparaging words of my parents and teachers, convinced of my own inadequacy. Hindered by undiagnosed learning disabilities and untreated mental health challenges, I struggled to keep pace with my peers academically, socially, and emotionally. Despite these obstacles, I refused to surrender to the limitations imposed upon me. Instead, I found strength in the concept of grit—a resilience born from adversity and nurtured by unwavering determination. I like the word grit; I think it describes me well. Grit is something that doesn’t come from ease and privilege. Grit isn’t something you can detect from a GPA or test score. Grit becomes a gift to those of us who come from hard places, but have the determination to dream so big that we find our way out. My personal journey has been filled with setbacks and challenges, yet it has also been defined by growth and resilience. I refuse to be defined by my past; instead, I choose to celebrate the strength and fight that have carried me through life's darkest moments. Where I used to be overpowered with my depression, set off course by my ADHD, confused by the ups downs of my hormone dysregulation, or hiding in my dark room from the fighting below, today, I stand before you as a testament to the power of perseverance—a dented, yet unbroken, individual who refuses to settle for anything less than I am capable of. My dreams extend beyond myself; they encompass a vision of service and compassion. My commitment to volunteerism is my proudest achievement. This year I will graduate as a Distinguished Service Graduate from Jenks High School, having completed well over 400 hours of service to my school and community. I am unwavering in my commitment to becoming a pediatric nurse, offering comfort and care to children and families facing trials. This has been my dream ever since I started dreaming. I want to live a life in service of others, especially children during their most uncertain times. I am deeply committed to using my experiences to connect with and uplift those who hurt, offering them the same compassion and understanding that I wished for during my darkest moments. Receiving this scholarship would allow me to attend the college of my dreams, something I am still fighting to achieve due to financial uncertainty. Receiving this scholarship would affirm my belief in the value of resilience and determination. It will also provide validation of my journey and the strength I have gained along the way. I am deeply grateful for the opportunity to share my story with you and humbly request your consideration for this scholarship.

I am writing today with a mix of vulnerability and resilience, laying out the stories of my life that have shaped me into the person I am today. Though it is terrifying and humbling to open up about my experiences, I believe that sharing my story is essential to fully understanding my journey and aspirations. From the outside, my life may have appeared idyllic, but beneath the surface is a story of hardship and perseverance. I am a survivor of emotional abuse, enduring a childhood marked by turmoil and self-doubt. The wounds inflicted upon me were invisible to the eye, yet they cut deep into my sense of self-worth and belonging. My deepest kept secret, that I share with you today, is the fact that I am an unaccompanied minor under the McKinney Vento Act. My homelife has been inconsistent at best and has added yet another layer of adversity to my high school experience. Growing up, I held deep inside the disparaging words of my parents and teachers, convinced of my own inadequacy. Hindered by undiagnosed learning disabilities and untreated mental health challenges, I struggled to keep pace with my peers academically, socially, and emotionally. Despite these obstacles, I refused to surrender to the limitations imposed upon me. Instead, I found strength in the concept of grit—a resilience born from adversity and nurtured by unwavering determination. I like the word grit; I think it describes me well. Grit is something that doesn’t come from ease and privilege. Grit isn’t something you can detect from a GPA or test score. Grit becomes a gift to those of us who come from hard places, but have the determination to dream so big that we find our way out. My personal journey has been filled with setbacks and challenges, yet it has also been defined by growth and resilience. I refuse to be defined by my past; instead, I choose to celebrate the strength and fight that have carried me through life's darkest moments. Where I used to be overpowered with my depression, set off course by my ADHD, confused by the ups downs of my hormone dysregulation, or hiding in my dark room from the fighting below, today, I stand before you as a testament to the power of perseverance—a dented, yet unbroken, individual who refuses to settle for anything less than I am capable of. My dreams extend beyond myself; they encompass a vision of service and compassion. My commitment to volunteerism is my proudest achievement. This year I will graduate as a Distinguished Service Graduate from Jenks High School, having completed well over 400 hours of service to my school and community. I am unwavering in my commitment to becoming a pediatric nurse, offering comfort and care to children and families facing trials. This has been my dream ever since I started dreaming. I want to live a life in service of others, especially children during their most uncertain times. I am deeply committed to using my experiences to connect with and uplift those who hurt, offering them the same compassion and understanding that I wished for during my darkest moments. Receiving this scholarship would allow me to attend the college of my dreams, something I am still fighting to achieve due to financial uncertainty. Receiving this scholarship would affirm my belief in the value of resilience and determination. It will also provide validation of my journey and the strength I have gained along the way. I am deeply grateful for the opportunity to share my story with you and humbly request your consideration for this scholarship.

I am writing today with a mix of vulnerability and resilience, laying out the stories of my life that have shaped me into the person I am today. Though it is terrifying and humbling to open up about my experiences, I believe that sharing my story is essential to fully understanding my journey and aspirations. From the outside, my life may have appeared idyllic, but beneath the surface is a story of hardship and perseverance. I am a survivor of emotional abuse, enduring a childhood marked by turmoil and self-doubt. The wounds inflicted upon me were invisible to the eye, yet they cut deep into my sense of self-worth and belonging. My deepest kept secret, that I share with you today, is the fact that I am an unaccompanied minor under the McKinney Vento Act. My homelife has been inconsistent at best and has added yet another layer of adversity to my high school experience. Growing up, I held deep inside the disparaging words of my parents and teachers, convinced of my own inadequacy. Hindered by undiagnosed learning disabilities and untreated mental health challenges, I struggled to keep pace with my peers academically, socially, and emotionally. Despite these obstacles, I refused to surrender to the limitations imposed upon me. Instead, I found strength in the concept of grit—a resilience born from adversity and nurtured by unwavering determination. I like the word grit; I think it describes me well. Grit is something that doesn’t come from ease and privilege. Grit isn’t something you can detect from a GPA or test score. Grit becomes a gift to those of us who come from hard places, but have the determination to dream so big that we find our way out. My personal journey has been filled with setbacks and challenges, yet it has also been defined by growth and resilience. I refuse to be defined by my past; instead, I choose to celebrate the strength and fight that have carried me through life's darkest moments. Where I used to be overpowered with my depression, set off course by my ADHD, confused by the ups downs of my hormone dysregulation, or hiding in my dark room from the fighting below, today, I stand before you as a testament to the power of perseverance—a dented, yet unbroken, individual who refuses to settle for anything less than I am capable of. My dreams extend beyond myself; they encompass a vision of service and compassion. My commitment to volunteerism is my proudest achievement. This year I will graduate as a Distinguished Service Graduate from Jenks High School, having completed well over 400 hours of service to my school and community. I am unwavering in my commitment to becoming a pediatric nurse, offering comfort and care to children and families facing trials. This has been my dream ever since I started dreaming. I want to live a life in service of others, especially children during their most uncertain times. I am deeply committed to using my experiences to connect with and uplift those who hurt, offering them the same compassion and understanding that I wished for during my darkest moments. Receiving this scholarship would allow me to attend the college of my dreams, something I am still fighting to achieve due to financial uncertainty. Receiving this scholarship would affirm my belief in the value of resilience and determination. It will also provide validation of my journey and the strength I have gained along the way. I am deeply grateful for the opportunity to share my story with you and humbly request your consideration for this scholarship.

I am writing today with a mix of vulnerability and resilience, laying out the stories of my life that have shaped me into the person I am today. Though it is terrifying and humbling to open up about my experiences, I believe that sharing my story is essential to fully understanding my journey and aspirations. From the outside, my life may have appeared idyllic, but beneath the surface is a story of hardship and perseverance. I am a survivor of emotional abuse, enduring a childhood marked by turmoil and self-doubt. The wounds inflicted upon me were invisible to the eye, yet they cut deep into my sense of self-worth and belonging. My deepest kept secret, that I share with you today, is the fact that I am an unaccompanied minor under the McKinney Vento Act. My homelife has been inconsistent at best and has added yet another layer of adversity to my high school experience. Growing up, I held deep inside the disparaging words of my parents and teachers, convinced of my own inadequacy. Hindered by undiagnosed learning disabilities and untreated mental health challenges, I struggled to keep pace with my peers academically, socially, and emotionally. Despite these obstacles, I refused to surrender to the limitations imposed upon me. Instead, I found strength in the concept of grit—a resilience born from adversity and nurtured by unwavering determination. I like the word grit; I think it describes me well. Grit is something that doesn’t come from ease and privilege. Grit isn’t something you can detect from a GPA or test score. Grit becomes a gift to those of us who come from hard places, but have the determination to dream so big that we find our way out. My personal journey has been filled with setbacks and challenges, yet it has also been defined by growth and resilience. I refuse to be defined by my past; instead, I choose to celebrate the strength and fight that have carried me through life's darkest moments. Where I used to be overpowered with my depression, set off course by my ADHD, confused by the ups downs of my hormone dysregulation, or hiding in my dark room from the fighting below, today, I stand before you as a testament to the power of perseverance—a dented, yet unbroken, individual who refuses to settle for anything less than I am capable of. My dreams extend beyond myself; they encompass a vision of service and compassion. My commitment to volunteerism is my proudest achievement. This year I will graduate as a Distinguished Service Graduate from Jenks High School, having completed well over 400 hours of service to my school and community. I am unwavering in my commitment to becoming a pediatric nurse, offering comfort and care to children and families facing trials. This has been my dream ever since I started dreaming. I want to live a life in service of others, especially children during their most uncertain times. I am deeply committed to using my experiences to connect with and uplift those who hurt, offering them the same compassion and understanding that I wished for during my darkest moments. Receiving this scholarship would allow me to attend the college of my dreams, something I am still fighting to achieve due to financial uncertainty. Receiving this scholarship would affirm my belief in the value of resilience and determination. It will also provide validation of my journey and the strength I have gained along the way. I am deeply grateful for the opportunity to share my story with you and humbly request your consideration for this scholarship.

I am writing today with a mix of vulnerability and resilience, laying out the stories of my life that have shaped me into the person I am today. Though it is terrifying and humbling to open up about my experiences, I believe that sharing my story is essential to fully understanding my journey and aspirations. From the outside, my life may have appeared idyllic, but beneath the surface is a story of hardship and perseverance. I am a survivor of emotional abuse, enduring a childhood marked by turmoil and self-doubt. The wounds inflicted upon me were invisible to the eye, yet they cut deep into my sense of self-worth and belonging. My deepest kept secret, that I share with you today, is the fact that I am an unaccompanied minor under the McKinney Vento Act. My homelife has been inconsistent at best and has added yet another layer of adversity to my high school experience. Growing up, I held deep inside the disparaging words of my parents and teachers, convinced of my own inadequacy. Hindered by undiagnosed learning disabilities and untreated mental health challenges, I struggled to keep pace with my peers academically, socially, and emotionally. Despite these obstacles, I refused to surrender to the limitations imposed upon me. Instead, I found strength in the concept of grit—a resilience born from adversity and nurtured by unwavering determination. I like the word grit; I think it describes me well. Grit is something that doesn’t come from ease and privilege. Grit isn’t something you can detect from a GPA or test score. Grit becomes a gift to those of us who come from hard places, but have the determination to dream so big that we find our way out. My personal journey has been filled with setbacks and challenges, yet it has also been defined by growth and resilience. I refuse to be defined by my past; instead, I choose to celebrate the strength and fight that have carried me through life's darkest moments. Where I used to be overpowered with my depression, set off course by my ADHD, confused by the ups downs of my hormone dysregulation, or hiding in my dark room from the fighting below, today, I stand before you as a testament to the power of perseverance—a dented, yet unbroken, individual who refuses to settle for anything less than I am capable of. My dreams extend beyond myself; they encompass a vision of service and compassion. My commitment to volunteerism is my proudest achievement. This year I will graduate as a Distinguished Service Graduate from Jenks High School, having completed well over 400 hours of service to my school and community. I am unwavering in my commitment to becoming a pediatric nurse, offering comfort and care to children and families facing trials. This has been my dream ever since I started dreaming. I want to live a life in service of others, especially children during their most uncertain times. I am deeply committed to using my experiences to connect with and uplift those who hurt, offering them the same compassion and understanding that I wished for during my darkest moments. Receiving this scholarship would allow me to attend the college of my dreams, something I am still fighting to achieve due to financial uncertainty. Receiving this scholarship would affirm my belief in the value of resilience and determination. It will also provide validation of my journey and the strength I have gained along the way. I am deeply grateful for the opportunity to share my story with you and humbly request your consideration for this scholarship.

I am writing today with a mix of vulnerability and resilience, laying out the stories of my life that have shaped me into the person I am today. Though it is terrifying and humbling to open up about my experiences, I believe that sharing my story is essential to fully understanding my journey and aspirations. From the outside, my life may have appeared idyllic, but beneath the surface is a story of hardship and perseverance. I am a survivor of emotional abuse, enduring a childhood marked by turmoil and self-doubt. The wounds inflicted upon me were invisible to the eye, yet they cut deep into my sense of self-worth and belonging. My deepest kept secret, that I share with you today, is the fact that I am an unaccompanied minor under the McKinney Vento Act. My homelife has been inconsistent at best and has added yet another layer of adversity to my high school experience. Growing up, I held deep inside the disparaging words of my parents and teachers, convinced of my own inadequacy. Hindered by undiagnosed learning disabilities and untreated mental health challenges, I struggled to keep pace with my peers academically, socially, and emotionally. Despite these obstacles, I refused to surrender to the limitations imposed upon me. Instead, I found strength in the concept of grit—a resilience born from adversity and nurtured by unwavering determination. I like the word grit; I think it describes me well. Grit is something that doesn’t come from ease and privilege. Grit isn’t something you can detect from a GPA or test score. Grit becomes a gift to those of us who come from hard places, but have the determination to dream so big that we find our way out. My personal journey has been filled with setbacks and challenges, yet it has also been defined by growth and resilience. I refuse to be defined by my past; instead, I choose to celebrate the strength and fight that have carried me through life's darkest moments. Where I used to be overpowered with my depression, set off course by my ADHD, confused by the ups downs of my hormone dysregulation, or hiding in my dark room from the fighting below, today, I stand before you as a testament to the power of perseverance—a dented, yet unbroken, individual who refuses to settle for anything less than I am capable of. My dreams extend beyond myself; they encompass a vision of service and compassion. My commitment to volunteerism is my proudest achievement. This year I will graduate as a Distinguished Service Graduate from Jenks High School, having completed well over 400 hours of service to my school and community. I am unwavering in my commitment to becoming a pediatric nurse, offering comfort and care to children and families facing trials. This has been my dream ever since I started dreaming. I want to live a life in service of others, especially children during their most uncertain times. I am deeply committed to using my experiences to connect with and uplift those who hurt, offering them the same compassion and understanding that I wished for during my darkest moments. Receiving this scholarship would allow me to attend the college of my dreams, something I am still fighting to achieve due to financial uncertainty. Receiving this scholarship would affirm my belief in the value of resilience and determination. It will also provide validation of my journey and the strength I have gained along the way. I am deeply grateful for the opportunity to share my story with you and humbly request your consideration for this scholarship.

I am writing today with a mix of vulnerability and resilience, laying out the stories of my life that have shaped me into the person I am today. Though it is terrifying and humbling to open up about my experiences, I believe that sharing my story is essential to fully understanding my journey and aspirations. From the outside, my life may have appeared idyllic, but beneath the surface is a story of hardship and perseverance. I am a survivor of emotional abuse, enduring a childhood marked by turmoil and self-doubt. The wounds inflicted upon me were invisible to the eye, yet they cut deep into my sense of self-worth and belonging. My deepest kept secret, that I share with you today, is the fact that I am an unaccompanied minor under the McKinney Vento Act. My homelife has been inconsistent at best and has added yet another layer of adversity to my high school experience. Growing up, I held deep inside the disparaging words of my parents and teachers, convinced of my own inadequacy. Hindered by undiagnosed learning disabilities and untreated mental health challenges, I struggled to keep pace with my peers academically, socially, and emotionally. Despite these obstacles, I refused to surrender to the limitations imposed upon me. Instead, I found strength in the concept of grit—a resilience born from adversity and nurtured by unwavering determination. I like the word grit; I think it describes me well. Grit is something that doesn’t come from ease and privilege. Grit isn’t something you can detect from a GPA or test score. Grit becomes a gift to those of us who come from hard places, but have the determination to dream so big that we find our way out. My personal journey has been filled with setbacks and challenges, yet it has also been defined by growth and resilience. I refuse to be defined by my past; instead, I choose to celebrate the strength and fight that have carried me through life's darkest moments. Where I used to be overpowered with my depression, set off course by my ADHD, confused by the ups downs of my hormone dysregulation, or hiding in my dark room from the fighting below, today, I stand before you as a testament to the power of perseverance—a dented, yet unbroken, individual who refuses to settle for anything less than I am capable of. My dreams extend beyond myself; they encompass a vision of service and compassion. My commitment to volunteerism is my proudest achievement. This year I will graduate as a Distinguished Service Graduate from Jenks High School, having completed well over 400 hours of service to my school and community. I am unwavering in my commitment to becoming a pediatric nurse, offering comfort and care to children and families facing trials. This has been my dream ever since I started dreaming. I want to live a life in service of others, especially children during their most uncertain times. I am deeply committed to using my experiences to connect with and uplift those who hurt, offering them the same compassion and understanding that I wished for during my darkest moments.

I am writing today with a mix of vulnerability and resilience, laying out the stories of my life that have shaped me into the person I am today. Though it is terrifying and humbling to open up about my experiences, I believe that sharing my story is essential to fully understanding my journey and aspirations. From the outside, my life may have appeared idyllic, but beneath the surface is a story of hardship and perseverance. I am a survivor of emotional abuse, enduring a childhood marked by turmoil and self-doubt. The wounds inflicted upon me were invisible to the eye, yet they cut deep into my sense of self-worth and belonging. My deepest kept secret, that I share with you today, is the fact that I am an unaccompanied minor under the McKinney Vento Act. My homelife has been inconsistent at best and has added yet another layer of adversity to my high school experience. Growing up, I held deep inside the disparaging words of my parents and teachers, convinced of my own inadequacy. Hindered by undiagnosed learning disabilities and untreated mental health challenges, I struggled to keep pace with my peers academically, socially, and emotionally. Despite these obstacles, I refused to surrender to the limitations imposed upon me. Instead, I found strength in the concept of grit—a resilience born from adversity and nurtured by unwavering determination. I like the word grit; I think it describes me well. Grit is something that doesn’t come from ease and privilege. Grit isn’t something you can detect from a GPA or test score. Grit becomes a gift to those of us who come from hard places, but have the determination to dream so big that we find our way out. My personal journey has been filled with setbacks and challenges, yet it has also been defined by growth and resilience. I refuse to be defined by my past; instead, I choose to celebrate the strength and fight that have carried me through life's darkest moments. Where I used to be overpowered with my depression, set off course by my ADHD, confused by the ups downs of my hormone dysregulation, or hiding in my dark room from the fighting below, today, I stand before you as a testament to the power of perseverance—a dented, yet unbroken, individual who refuses to settle for anything less than I am capable of. My dreams extend beyond myself; they encompass a vision of service and compassion. My commitment to volunteerism is my proudest achievement. This year I will graduate as a Distinguished Service Graduate from Jenks High School, having completed over 400 hours of service to my school and community. I am unwavering in my commitment to becoming a pediatric nurse, offering comfort and care to children and families facing trials. This has been my dream ever since I started dreaming. I want to live a life in service of others, especially children during their most uncertain times. I am deeply committed to using my experiences to connect with and uplift those who hurt, offering them the same compassion and understanding that I wished for during my darkest moments.

In a world where physical health often takes center stage, the significance of mental health can easily be overlooked. Yet, as I have come to understand through personal experience, the importance of mental health awareness and advocacy cannot be overstated. High School was a challenge. I lived in a home where chaos was common. I spent many nights alone in my room, wishing that I was unalive. I have struggled with my mental health for as long as I can remember. My father, being Middle-Eastern, found it culturally unacceptable, and pretended it did not exist. I went undiagnosed and unmedicated for most of my life. I see what mental health, or a lack thereof can do to our youth. This stigma creates barriers to seeking help and support, perpetuating a cycle of silence and suffering. As someone who has lived with mental health challenges firsthand, I understand the isolation and fear that often accompany these struggles. For years, I held onto feelings of shame and inadequacy, believing that my struggles were a sign of weakness rather than a legitimate concern. It wasn't until I found the courage to speak out and seek support that I began to realize the power of openness and vulnerability. I've learned the power of my words, and I also learned the power that comes from admitting we are not all-powerful. I have learned the power of my personal story and the power that comes from listening to yours. These lessons have helped me define my future; helped me see my place in this world. It is nursing; psychiatric nursing, just like my aunt, my mentor and role-model. Through my journey, I have come to appreciate the importance of speaking your story in order to break down barriers and foster a culture of acceptance and care. By openly discussing mental health and sharing our stories, we can challenge misconceptions and demonstrate that seeking help is a sign of strength, not weakness. By normalizing conversations around mental health, we can create a culture where individuals feel empowered to prioritize their well-being and seek the help they need without fear of judgment or discrimination. I learned to overcome the hard way, but that does not have to be the story for us all. After proper diagnosis, medication, and counseling, I found something within myself that I did not know was there. It was grit. You can’t wonder and wish life into submission, but you can develop the grit to take it under control. I like the word grit; I think it describes me well. Grit is something that doesn’t come from easy and privileged. Grit isn’t something you can detect from a GPA or test score. Grit becomes a gift to those of us who come from hard places, but have the determination to dream so big that we find our way out. Speaking openly about mental illness, might just be the way out for someone else, so speak loudly. As a future leader and advocate, I am committed to sharing my story and speaking out on mental health awareness. When, no longer if, I get to college, I will pursue a degree in nursing. I want to be like my aunt, my biggest inspiration. She is a registered nurse who is pursuing her Doctorate as a Psychiatric Nurse Practitioner; one day, with the help of this scholarship, I will do the same. Thank you for supporting those of us who have struggled with our mental health. Thank you for letting me tell my story.

I am writing today with a mix of vulnerability and resilience, laying out the stories of my life that have shaped me into the person I am today. Though it is terrifying and humbling to open up about my experiences, I believe that sharing my story is essential to fully understanding my journey and aspirations. From the outside, my life may have appeared idyllic, but beneath the surface is a story of hardship and perseverance. I am a survivor of emotional abuse, enduring a childhood marked by turmoil and self-doubt. The wounds inflicted upon me were invisible to the eye, yet they cut deep into my sense of self-worth and belonging. My deepest kept secret, that I share with you today, is the fact that I am an unaccompanied minor under the McKinney Vento Act. My homelife has been inconsistent at best and has added yet another layer of adversity to my high school experience. Growing up, I held deep inside the disparaging words of my parents and teachers, convinced of my own inadequacy. Hindered by undiagnosed learning disabilities and untreated mental health challenges, I struggled to keep pace with my peers academically, socially, and emotionally. Despite these obstacles, I refused to surrender to the limitations imposed upon me. Instead, I found strength in the concept of grit—a resilience born from adversity and nurtured by unwavering determination. I like the word grit; I think it describes me well. Grit is something that doesn’t come from ease and privilege. Grit isn’t something you can detect from a GPA or test score. Grit becomes a gift to those of us who come from hard places, but have the determination to dream so big that we find our way out. My personal journey has been filled with setbacks and challenges, yet it has also been defined by growth and resilience. I refuse to be defined by my past; instead, I choose to celebrate the strength and fight that have carried me through life's darkest moments. Where I used to be overpowered with my depression, set off course by my ADHD, confused by the ups downs of my hormone dysregulation, or hiding in my dark room from the fighting below, today, I stand before you as a testament to the power of perseverance—a dented, yet unbroken, individual who refuses to settle for anything less than I am capable of. My dreams extend beyond myself; they encompass a vision of service and compassion. My commitment to volunteerism is my proudest achievement. This year I will graduate as a Distinguished Service Graduate from Jenks High School, having completed over 400 hours of service to my school and community. I am unwavering in my commitment to becoming a pediatric nurse, offering comfort and care to children and families facing trials. This has been my dream ever since I started dreaming. I want to live a life in service of others, especially children during their most uncertain times. I am deeply committed to using my experiences to connect with and uplift those who hurt, offering them the same compassion and understanding that I wished for during my darkest moments. Receiving this scholarship would allow me to attend the college of my dreams, something I am still fighting to achieve due to financial uncertainty. Receiving this scholarship would affirm my belief in the value of resilience and determination. It will also provide validation of my journey and the strength I have gained along the way. I am deeply grateful for the opportunity to share my story with you and humbly request your consideration for this scholarship.

I am writing today with a mix of vulnerability and resilience, laying out the stories of my life that have shaped me into the person I am today. Though it is terrifying and humbling to open up about my experiences, I believe that sharing my story is essential to fully understanding my journey and aspirations. From the outside, my life may have appeared idyllic, but beneath the surface is a story of hardship and perseverance. I am a survivor of emotional abuse, enduring a childhood marked by turmoil and self-doubt. The wounds inflicted upon me were invisible to the eye, yet they cut deep into my sense of self-worth and belonging. My deepest kept secret, that I share with you today, is the fact that I am an unaccompanied minor under the McKinney Vento Act. My homelife has been inconsistent at best and has added yet another layer of adversity to my high school experience. Growing up, I held deep inside the disparaging words of my parents and teachers, convinced of my own inadequacy. Hindered by undiagnosed learning disabilities and untreated mental health challenges, I struggled to keep pace with my peers academically, socially, and emotionally. Despite these obstacles, I refused to surrender to the limitations imposed upon me. Instead, I found strength in the concept of grit—a resilience born from adversity and nurtured by unwavering determination. I like the word grit; I think it describes me well. Grit is something that doesn’t come from ease and privilege. Grit isn’t something you can detect from a GPA or test score. Grit becomes a gift to those of us who come from hard places, but have the determination to dream so big that we find our way out. My personal journey has been filled with setbacks and challenges, yet it has also been defined by growth and resilience. I refuse to be defined by my past; instead, I choose to celebrate the strength and fight that have carried me through life's darkest moments. Where I used to be overpowered with my depression, set off course by my ADHD, confused by the ups downs of my hormone dysregulation, or hiding in my dark room from the fighting below, today, I stand before you as a testament to the power of perseverance—a dented, yet unbroken, individual who refuses to settle for anything less than I am capable of. My dreams extend beyond myself; they encompass a vision of service and compassion. My commitment to volunteerism is my proudest achievement. This year I will graduate as a Distinguished Service Graduate from Jenks High School, having completed over 400 hours of service to my school and community. I am unwavering in my commitment to becoming a pediatric nurse, offering comfort and care to children and families facing trials. This has been my dream ever since I started dreaming. I want to live a life in service of others, especially children during their most uncertain times. I am deeply committed to using my experiences to connect with and uplift those who hurt, offering them the same compassion and understanding that I wished for during my darkest moments. Receiving this scholarship would allow me to attend the college of my dreams, something I am still fighting to achieve due to financial uncertainty. Receiving this scholarship would affirm my belief in the value of resilience and determination. It will also provide validation of my journey and the strength I have gained along the way. I am deeply grateful for the opportunity to share my story with you and humbly request your consideration for this scholarship.

I am writing today with a mix of vulnerability and resilience, laying out the stories of my life that have shaped me into the person I am today. Though it is terrifying and humbling to open up about my experiences, I believe that sharing my story is essential to fully understanding my journey and aspirations. From the outside, my life may have appeared idyllic, but beneath the surface is a story of hardship and perseverance. I am a survivor of emotional abuse, enduring a childhood marked by turmoil and self-doubt. The wounds inflicted upon me were invisible to the eye, yet they cut deep into my sense of self-worth and belonging. My deepest kept secret, that I share with you today, is the fact that I am an unaccompanied minor under the McKinney Vento Act. My homelife has been inconsistent at best and has added yet another layer of adversity to my high school experience. Growing up, I held deep inside the disparaging words of my parents and teachers, convinced of my own inadequacy. Hindered by undiagnosed learning disabilities and untreated mental health challenges, I struggled to keep pace with my peers academically, socially, and emotionally. Despite these obstacles, I refused to surrender to the limitations imposed upon me. Instead, I found strength in the concept of grit—a resilience born from adversity and nurtured by unwavering determination. I like the word grit; I think it describes me well. Grit is something that doesn’t come from ease and privilege. Grit isn’t something you can detect from a GPA or test score. Grit becomes a gift to those of us who come from hard places, but have the determination to dream so big that we find our way out. My personal journey has been filled with setbacks and challenges, yet it has also been defined by growth and resilience. I refuse to be defined by my past; instead, I choose to celebrate the strength and fight that have carried me through life's darkest moments. Where I used to be overpowered with my depression, set off course by my ADHD, confused by the ups downs of my hormone dysregulation, or hiding in my dark room from the fighting below, today, I stand before you as a testament to the power of perseverance—a dented, yet unbroken, individual who refuses to settle for anything less than I am capable of. My dreams extend beyond myself; they encompass a vision of service and compassion. My commitment to volunteerism is my proudest achievement. This year I will graduate as a Distinguished Service Graduate from Jenks High School, having completed over 400 hours of service to my school and community. I am unwavering in my commitment to becoming a pediatric nurse, offering comfort and care to children and families facing trials. This has been my dream ever since I started dreaming. I want to live a life in service of others, especially children during their most uncertain times. I am deeply committed to using my experiences to connect with and uplift those who hurt, offering them the same compassion and understanding that I wished for during my darkest moments. Receiving this scholarship would allow me to attend the college of my dreams, something I am still fighting to achieve due to financial uncertainty. Receiving this scholarship would affirm my belief in the value of resilience and determination. It will also provide validation of my journey and the strength I have gained along the way. I am deeply grateful for the opportunity to share my story with you and humbly request your consideration for this scholarship.

I am writing today with a mix of vulnerability and resilience, laying out the stories of my life that have shaped me into the person I am today. Though it is terrifying and humbling to open up about my experiences, I believe that sharing my story is essential to fully understanding my journey and aspirations. From the outside, my life may have appeared idyllic, but beneath the surface is a story of hardship and perseverance. I am a survivor of emotional abuse, enduring a childhood marked by turmoil and self-doubt. The wounds inflicted upon me were invisible to the eye, yet they cut deep into my sense of self-worth and belonging. My deepest kept secret, that I share with you today, is the fact that I am an unaccompanied minor under the McKinney Vento Act. My homelife has been inconsistent at best and has added yet another layer of adversity to my high school experience. Growing up, I held deep inside the disparaging words of my parents and teachers, convinced of my own inadequacy. Hindered by undiagnosed learning disabilities and untreated mental health challenges, I struggled to keep pace with my peers academically, socially, and emotionally. Despite these obstacles, I refused to surrender to the limitations imposed upon me. Instead, I found strength in the concept of grit—a resilience born from adversity and nurtured by unwavering determination. I like the word grit; I think it describes me well. Grit is something that doesn’t come from ease and privilege. Grit isn’t something you can detect from a GPA or test score. Grit becomes a gift to those of us who come from hard places, but have the determination to dream so big that we find our way out. My personal journey has been filled with setbacks and challenges, yet it has also been defined by growth and resilience. I refuse to be defined by my past; instead, I choose to celebrate the strength and fight that have carried me through life's darkest moments. Where I used to be overpowered with my depression, set off course by my ADHD, confused by the ups downs of my hormone dysregulation, or hiding in my dark room from the fighting below, today, I stand before you as a testament to the power of perseverance—a dented, yet unbroken, individual who refuses to settle for anything less than I am capable of. My dreams extend beyond myself; they encompass a vision of service and compassion. My commitment to volunteerism is my proudest achievement. This year I will graduate as a Distinguished Service Graduate from Jenks High School, having completed over 400 hours of service to my school and community. I am unwavering in my commitment to becoming a pediatric nurse, offering comfort and care to children and families facing trials. This has been my dream ever since I started dreaming. I want to live a life in service of others, especially children during their most uncertain times. I am deeply committed to using my experiences to connect with and uplift those who hurt, offering them the same compassion and understanding that I wished for during my darkest moments. Receiving this scholarship would allow me to attend the college of my dreams, something I am still fighting to achieve due to financial uncertainty. Receiving this scholarship would affirm my belief in the value of resilience and determination. It will also provide validation of my journey and the strength I have gained along the way. I am deeply grateful for the opportunity to share my story with you and humbly request your consideration for this scholarship.

I am writing today with a mix of vulnerability and resilience, laying out the stories of my life that have shaped me into the person I am today. Though it is terrifying and humbling to open up about my experiences, I believe that sharing my story is essential to fully understanding my journey and aspirations. From the outside, my life may have appeared idyllic, but beneath the surface is a story of hardship and perseverance. I am a survivor of emotional abuse, enduring a childhood marked by turmoil and self-doubt. The wounds inflicted upon me were invisible to the eye, yet they cut deep into my sense of self-worth and belonging. My deepest kept secret, that I share with you today, is the fact that I am an unaccompanied minor under the McKinney Vento Act. My homelife has been inconsistent at best and has added yet another layer of adversity to my high school experience. Growing up, I held deep inside the disparaging words of my parents and teachers, convinced of my own inadequacy. Hindered by undiagnosed learning disabilities and untreated mental health challenges, I struggled to keep pace with my peers academically, socially, and emotionally. Despite these obstacles, I refused to surrender to the limitations imposed upon me. Instead, I found strength in the concept of grit—a resilience born from adversity and nurtured by unwavering determination. I like the word grit; I think it describes me well. Grit is something that doesn’t come from ease and privilege. Grit isn’t something you can detect from a GPA or test score. Grit becomes a gift to those of us who come from hard places, but have the determination to dream so big that we find our way out. My personal journey has been filled with setbacks and challenges, yet it has also been defined by growth and resilience. I refuse to be defined by my past; instead, I choose to celebrate the strength and fight that have carried me through life's darkest moments. Where I used to be overpowered with my depression, set off course by my ADHD, confused by the ups downs of my hormone dysregulation, or hiding in my dark room from the fighting below, today, I stand before you as a testament to the power of perseverance—a dented, yet unbroken, individual who refuses to settle for anything less than I am capable of. My dreams extend beyond myself; they encompass a vision of service and compassion. My commitment to volunteerism is my proudest achievement. This year I will graduate as a Distinguished Service Graduate from Jenks High School, having completed over 400 hours of service to my school and community. I am unwavering in my commitment to becoming a pediatric nurse, offering comfort and care to children and families facing trials. This has been my dream ever since I started dreaming. I want to live a life in service of others, especially children during their most uncertain times. I am deeply committed to using my experiences to connect with and uplift those who hurt, offering them the same compassion and understanding that I wished for during my darkest moments. Receiving this scholarship would allow me to attend the college of my dreams, something I am still fighting to achieve due to financial uncertainty. Receiving this scholarship would affirm my belief in the value of resilience and determination. It will also provide validation of my journey and the strength I have gained along the way. I am deeply grateful for the opportunity to share my story with you and humbly request your consideration for this scholarship.

I am writing today with a mix of vulnerability and resilience, laying out the stories of my life that have shaped me into the person I am today. Though it is terrifying and humbling to open up about my experiences, I believe that sharing my story is essential to fully understanding my journey and aspirations. From the outside, my life may have appeared idyllic, but beneath the surface is a story of hardship and perseverance. I am a survivor of emotional abuse, enduring a childhood marked by turmoil and self-doubt. The wounds inflicted upon me were invisible to the eye, yet they cut deep into my sense of self-worth and belonging. My deepest kept secret, that I share with you today, is the fact that I am an unaccompanied minor under the McKinney Vento Act. My homelife has been inconsistent at best and has added yet another layer of adversity to my high school experience. Growing up, I held deep inside the disparaging words of my parents and teachers, convinced of my own inadequacy. Hindered by undiagnosed learning disabilities and untreated mental health challenges, I struggled to keep pace with my peers academically, socially, and emotionally. Despite these obstacles, I refused to surrender to the limitations imposed upon me. Instead, I found strength in the concept of grit—a resilience born from adversity and nurtured by unwavering determination. I like the word grit; I think it describes me well. Grit is something that doesn’t come from ease and privilege. Grit isn’t something you can detect from a GPA or test score. Grit becomes a gift to those of us who come from hard places, but have the determination to dream so big that we find our way out. My personal journey has been filled with setbacks and challenges, yet it has also been defined by growth and resilience. I refuse to be defined by my past; instead, I choose to celebrate the strength and fight that have carried me through life's darkest moments. Where I used to be overpowered with my depression, set off course by my ADHD, confused by the ups downs of my hormone dysregulation, or hiding in my dark room from the fighting below, today, I stand before you as a testament to the power of perseverance—a dented, yet unbroken, individual who refuses to settle for anything less than I am capable of. My dreams extend beyond myself; they encompass a vision of service and compassion. My commitment to volunteerism is my proudest achievement. This year I will graduate as a Distinguished Service Graduate from Jenks High School, having completed over 400 hours of service to my school and community. I am unwavering in my commitment to becoming a pediatric nurse, offering comfort and care to children and families facing trials. This has been my dream ever since I started dreaming. I want to live a life in service of others, especially children during their most uncertain times. I am deeply committed to using my experiences to connect with and uplift those who hurt, offering them the same compassion and understanding that I wished for during my darkest moments. Receiving this scholarship would allow me to attend the college of my dreams, something I am still fighting to achieve due to financial uncertainty. Receiving this scholarship would affirm my belief in the value of resilience and determination. It will also provide validation of my journey and the strength I have gained along the way. I am deeply grateful for the opportunity to share my story with you and humbly request your consideration for this scholarship.

I am writing today with a mix of vulnerability and resilience, laying out the stories of my life that have shaped me into the person I am today. Though it is terrifying and humbling to open up about my experiences, I believe that sharing my story is essential to fully understanding my journey and aspirations. From the outside, my life may have appeared idyllic, but beneath the surface is a story of hardship and perseverance. I am a survivor of emotional abuse, enduring a childhood marked by turmoil and self-doubt. The wounds inflicted upon me were invisible to the eye, yet they cut deep into my sense of self-worth and belonging. My deepest kept secret, that I share with you today, is the fact that I am an unaccompanied minor under the McKinney Vento Act. My homelife has been inconsistent at best and has added yet another layer of adversity to my high school experience. Growing up, I held deep inside the disparaging words of my parents and teachers, convinced of my own inadequacy. Hindered by undiagnosed learning disabilities and untreated mental health challenges, I struggled to keep pace with my peers academically, socially, and emotionally. Despite these obstacles, I refused to surrender to the limitations imposed upon me. Instead, I found strength in the concept of grit—a resilience born from adversity and nurtured by unwavering determination. I like the word grit; I think it describes me well. Grit is something that doesn’t come from ease and privilege. Grit isn’t something you can detect from a GPA or test score. Grit becomes a gift to those of us who come from hard places, but have the determination to dream so big that we find our way out. My personal journey has been filled with setbacks and challenges, yet it has also been defined by growth and resilience. I refuse to be defined by my past; instead, I choose to celebrate the strength and fight that have carried me through life's darkest moments. Where I used to be overpowered with my depression, set off course by my ADHD, confused by the ups downs of my hormone dysregulation, or hiding in my dark room from the fighting below, today, I stand before you as a testament to the power of perseverance—a dented, yet unbroken, individual who refuses to settle for anything less than I am capable of. My dreams extend beyond myself; they encompass a vision of service and compassion. My commitment to volunteerism is my proudest achievement. This year I will graduate as a Distinguished Service Graduate from Jenks High School, having completed over 400 hours of service to my school and community. I am unwavering in my commitment to becoming a pediatric nurse, offering comfort and care to children and families facing trials. This has been my dream ever since I started dreaming. I want to live a life in service of others, especially children during their most uncertain times. I am deeply committed to using my experiences to connect with and uplift those who hurt, offering them the same compassion and understanding that I wished for during my darkest moments. Receiving this scholarship would allow me to attend the college of my dreams, something I am still fighting to achieve due to financial uncertainty. Receiving this scholarship would affirm my belief in the value of resilience and determination. It will also provide validation of my journey and the strength I have gained along the way. I am deeply grateful for the opportunity to share my story with you and humbly request your consideration for this scholarship.

I am writing today with a mix of vulnerability and resilience, laying out the stories of my life that have shaped me into the person I am today. Though it is terrifying and humbling to open up about my experiences, I believe that sharing my story is essential to fully understanding my journey and aspirations. From the outside, my life may have appeared idyllic, but beneath the surface is a story of hardship and perseverance. I am a survivor of emotional abuse, enduring a childhood marked by turmoil and self-doubt. The wounds inflicted upon me were invisible to the eye, yet they cut deep into my sense of self-worth and belonging. My deepest kept secret, that I share with you today, is the fact that I am an unaccompanied minor under the McKinney Vento Act. My homelife has been inconsistent at best and has added yet another layer of adversity to my high school experience. Growing up, I held deep inside the disparaging words of my parents and teachers, convinced of my own inadequacy. Hindered by undiagnosed learning disabilities and untreated mental health challenges, I struggled to keep pace with my peers academically, socially, and emotionally. Despite these obstacles, I refused to surrender to the limitations imposed upon me. Instead, I found strength in the concept of grit—a resilience born from adversity and nurtured by unwavering determination. I like the word grit; I think it describes me well. Grit is something that doesn’t come from ease and privilege. Grit isn’t something you can detect from a GPA or test score. Grit becomes a gift to those of us who come from hard places, but have the determination to dream so big that we find our way out. My dreams extend beyond myself; they encompass a vision of service and compassion. My commitment to volunteerism is my proudest achievement. This year I will graduate as a Distinguished Service Graduate from Jenks High School, having completed over 400 hours of service to my school and community. I am unwavering in my commitment to becoming a pediatric nurse, offering comfort and care to children and families facing trials. This has been my dream ever since I started dreaming. I want to live a life in service of others, especially children during their most uncertain times. I am deeply committed to using my experiences to connect with and uplift those who hurt, offering them the same compassion and understanding that I wished for during my darkest moments. Receiving this scholarship would allow me to attend the college of my dreams, something I am still fighting to achieve due to financial uncertainty. Receiving this scholarship would affirm my belief in the value of resilience and determination. It will also provide validation of my journey and the strength I have gained along the way. I am deeply grateful for the opportunity to share my story with you and humbly request your consideration for this scholarship.

I am writing today with a mix of vulnerability and resilience, laying out the stories of my life that have shaped me into the person I am today. Though it is terrifying and humbling to open up about my experiences, I believe that sharing my story is essential to fully understanding my journey and aspirations. From the outside, my life may have appeared idyllic, but beneath the surface is a story of hardship and perseverance. I am a survivor of emotional abuse, enduring a childhood marked by turmoil and self-doubt. The wounds inflicted upon me were invisible to the eye, yet they cut deep into my sense of self-worth and belonging. My deepest kept secret, that I share with you today, is the fact that I am an unaccompanied minor under the McKinney Vento Act. My homelife has been inconsistent at best and has added yet another layer of adversity to my high school experience. Growing up, I held deep inside the disparaging words of my parents and teachers, convinced of my own inadequacy. Hindered by undiagnosed learning disabilities and untreated mental health challenges, I struggled to keep pace with my peers academically, socially, and emotionally. Despite these obstacles, I refused to surrender to the limitations imposed upon me. Instead, I found strength in the concept of grit—a resilience born from adversity and nurtured by unwavering determination. I like the word grit; I think it describes me well. Grit is something that doesn’t come from ease and privilege. Grit isn’t something you can detect from a GPA or test score. Grit becomes a gift to those of us who come from hard places, but have the determination to dream so big that we find our way out. My personal journey has been filled with setbacks and challenges, yet it has also been defined by growth and resilience. I refuse to be defined by my past; instead, I choose to celebrate the strength and fight that have carried me through life's darkest moments. Where I used to be overpowered with my depression, set off course by my ADHD, confused by the ups downs of my hormone dysregulation, or hiding in my dark room from the fighting below, today, I stand before you as a testament to the power of perseverance—a dented, yet unbroken, individual who refuses to settle for anything less than I am capable of. My dreams extend beyond myself; they encompass a vision of service and compassion. My commitment to volunteerism is my proudest achievement. This year I will graduate as a Distinguished Service Graduate from Jenks High School, having completed over 400 hours of service to my school and community. I am unwavering in my commitment to becoming a pediatric nurse, offering comfort and care to children and families facing trials. This has been my dream ever since I started dreaming. I want to live a life in service of others, especially children during their most uncertain times. I am deeply committed to using my experiences to connect with and uplift those who hurt, offering them the same compassion and understanding that I wished for during my darkest moments. Receiving this scholarship would allow me to attend the college of my dreams, something I am still fighting to achieve due to financial uncertainty. Receiving this scholarship would affirm my belief in the value of resilience and determination. It will also provide validation of my journey and the strength I have gained along the way. I am deeply grateful for the opportunity to share my story with you and humbly request your consideration for this scholarship.

I am writing today with a mix of vulnerability and resilience, laying out the stories of my life that have shaped me into the person I am today. Though it is terrifying and humbling to open up about my experiences, I believe that sharing my story is essential to fully understanding my journey and aspirations. From the outside, my life may have appeared idyllic, but beneath the surface is a story of hardship and perseverance. I am a survivor of emotional abuse, enduring a childhood marked by turmoil and self-doubt. The wounds inflicted upon me were invisible to the eye, yet they cut deep into my sense of self-worth and belonging. My deepest kept secret, that I share with you today, is the fact that I am an unaccompanied minor under the McKinney Vento Act. My homelife has been inconsistent at best and has added yet another layer of adversity to my high school experience. Growing up, I held deep inside the disparaging words of my parents and teachers, convinced of my own inadequacy. Hindered by undiagnosed learning disabilities and untreated mental health challenges, I struggled to keep pace with my peers academically, socially, and emotionally. Despite these obstacles, I refused to surrender to the limitations imposed upon me. Instead, I found strength in the concept of grit—a resilience born from adversity and nurtured by unwavering determination. I like the word grit; I think it describes me well. Grit is something that doesn’t come from ease and privilege. Grit isn’t something you can detect from a GPA or test score. Grit becomes a gift to those of us who come from hard places, but have the determination to dream so big that we find our way out. My personal journey has been filled with setbacks and challenges, yet it has also been defined by growth and resilience. I refuse to be defined by my past; instead, I choose to celebrate the strength and fight that have carried me through life's darkest moments. Where I used to be overpowered with my depression, set off course by my ADHD, confused by the ups downs of my hormone dysregulation, or hiding in my dark room from the fighting below, today, I stand before you as a testament to the power of perseverance—a dented, yet unbroken, individual who refuses to settle for anything less than I am capable of. My dreams extend beyond myself; they encompass a vision of service and compassion. My commitment to volunteerism is my proudest achievement. This year I will graduate as a Distinguished Service Graduate from Jenks High School, having completed over 400 hours of service to my school and community. I am unwavering in my commitment to becoming a pediatric nurse, offering comfort and care to children and families facing trials. This has been my dream ever since I started dreaming. I want to live a life in service of others, especially children during their most uncertain times. I am deeply committed to using my experiences to connect with and uplift those who hurt, offering them the same compassion and understanding that I wished for during my darkest moments. Receiving this scholarship would allow me to attend the college of my dreams, something I am still fighting to achieve due to financial uncertainty. Receiving this scholarship would affirm my belief in the value of resilience and determination. It will also provide validation of my journey and the strength I have gained along the way. I am deeply grateful for the opportunity to share my story with you and humbly request your consideration for this scholarship.

I am writing today with a mix of vulnerability and resilience, laying out the stories of my life that have shaped me into the person I am today. Though it is terrifying and humbling to open up about my experiences, I believe that sharing my story is essential to fully understanding my journey and aspirations. From the outside, my life may have appeared idyllic, but beneath the surface is a story of hardship and perseverance. I am a survivor of emotional abuse, enduring a childhood marked by turmoil and self-doubt. The wounds inflicted upon me were invisible to the eye, yet they cut deep into my sense of self-worth and belonging. My deepest kept secret, that I share with you today, is the fact that I am an unaccompanied minor under the McKinney Vento Act. My homelife has been inconsistent at best and has added yet another layer of adversity to my high school experience. Growing up, I held deep inside the disparaging words of my parents and teachers, convinced of my own inadequacy. Hindered by undiagnosed learning disabilities and untreated mental health challenges, I struggled to keep pace with my peers academically, socially, and emotionally. Despite these obstacles, I refused to surrender to the limitations imposed upon me. Instead, I found strength in the concept of grit—a resilience born from adversity and nurtured by unwavering determination. I like the word grit; I think it describes me well. Grit is something that doesn’t come from ease and privilege. Grit isn’t something you can detect from a GPA or test score. Grit becomes a gift to those of us who come from hard places, but have the determination to dream so big that we find our way out. My personal journey has been filled with setbacks and challenges, yet it has also been defined by growth and resilience. I refuse to be defined by my past; instead, I choose to celebrate the strength and fight that have carried me through life's darkest moments. Where I used to be overpowered with my depression, set off course by my ADHD, confused by the ups downs of my hormone dysregulation, or hiding in my dark room from the fighting below, today, I stand before you as a testament to the power of perseverance—a dented, yet unbroken, individual who refuses to settle for anything less than I am capable of. My dreams extend beyond myself; they encompass a vision of service and compassion. My commitment to volunteerism is my proudest achievement. This year I will graduate as a Distinguished Service Graduate from Jenks High School, having completed over 400 hours of service to my school and community. I am unwavering in my commitment to becoming a pediatric nurse, offering comfort and care to children and families facing trials. This has been my dream ever since I started dreaming. I want to live a life in service of others, especially children during their most uncertain times. I am deeply committed to using my experiences to connect with and uplift those who hurt, offering them the same compassion and understanding that I wished for during my darkest moments. Receiving this scholarship would allow me to attend the college of my dreams, something I am still fighting to achieve due to financial uncertainty. Receiving this scholarship would affirm my belief in the value of resilience and determination. It will also provide validation of my journey and the strength I have gained along the way. I am deeply grateful for the opportunity to share my story with you and humbly request your consideration for this scholarship.

I am writing today with a mix of vulnerability and resilience, laying out the stories of my life that have shaped me into the person I am today. Though it is terrifying and humbling to open up about my experiences, I believe that sharing my story is essential to fully understanding my journey and aspirations. From the outside, my life may have appeared idyllic, but beneath the surface is a story of hardship and perseverance. I am a survivor of emotional abuse, enduring a childhood marked by turmoil and self-doubt. The wounds inflicted upon me were invisible to the eye, yet they cut deep into my sense of self-worth and belonging. My deepest kept secret, that I share with you today, is the fact that I am an unaccompanied minor under the McKinney Vento Act. My homelife has been inconsistent at best and has added yet another layer of adversity to my high school experience. Growing up, I held deep inside the disparaging words of my parents and teachers, convinced of my own inadequacy. Hindered by undiagnosed learning disabilities and untreated mental health challenges, I struggled to keep pace with my peers academically, socially, and emotionally. Despite these obstacles, I refused to surrender to the limitations imposed upon me. Instead, I found strength in the concept of grit—a resilience born from adversity and nurtured by unwavering determination. I like the word grit; I think it describes me well. Grit is something that doesn’t come from ease and privilege. Grit isn’t something you can detect from a GPA or test score. Grit becomes a gift to those of us who come from hard places, but have the determination to dream so big that we find our way out. My personal journey has been filled with setbacks and challenges, yet it has also been defined by growth and resilience. I refuse to be defined by my past; instead, I choose to celebrate the strength and fight that have carried me through life's darkest moments. Where I used to be overpowered with my depression, set off course by my ADHD, confused by the ups downs of my hormone dysregulation, or hiding in my dark room from the fighting below, today, I stand before you as a testament to the power of perseverance—a dented, yet unbroken, individual who refuses to settle for anything less than I am capable of. My dreams extend beyond myself; they encompass a vision of service and compassion. My commitment to volunteerism is my proudest achievement. This year I will graduate as a Distinguished Service Graduate from Jenks High School, having completed over 400 hours of service to my school and community. I am unwavering in my commitment to becoming a pediatric nurse, offering comfort and care to children and families facing trials. This has been my dream ever since I started dreaming. I want to live a life in service of others, especially children during their most uncertain times. I am deeply committed to using my experiences to connect with and uplift those who hurt, offering them the same compassion and understanding that I wished for during my darkest moments. Receiving this scholarship would allow me to attend the college of my dreams, something I am still fighting to achieve due to financial uncertainty. Receiving this scholarship would affirm my belief in the value of resilience and determination. It will also provide validation of my journey and the strength I have gained along the way. I am deeply grateful for the opportunity to share my story with you and humbly request your consideration for this scholarship.

I am a child of trauma. I am a child who knows first hand how hard life can be and how drastically we are impacted by our mental health or lack thereof. The reason I advocate for mental health, is because of my mom and her story. She has also been through so much, so much that I cannot share on here. I watch her cry often and see how badly she needs help but simply cannot afford it; you see she had to choose between financing my therapy or hers...she chose me. I advocate for my mother and for all of those who want support, but just cannot afford it. My contribution to the world would be free access to mental health supports for all. A world where you don't have to choose between your utility bills or your therapist's bill and you don't have to choose between your daughter's mental health and yours. Our world can do better and by doing better for us, we could do better by it. There is a way to get this done, we just have to make the choice to.

There’s so much more to me than people will ever know. To show you the chapters of my life, my story, I’d have to open my book to you. It’s a scary thought for me; I've tried my entire life to keep it closed. I’ve had a hard life. What makes it even harder is that from the outside, it doesn’t look that way. I’m not a person that anyone would look at and feel sorry for. I’m not a person that anyone would look at and think to offer help. I’m not a person that anyone would look at and second guess if the smile on my face was fake; it was by the way. Most of this was by design, some of this was by assumption; the assumption that “pretty” girls, from “good” families, living in Jenks, America have it all. I did not have it all. I am a child of abuse. I don’t even like to put this into words. It makes me so uncomfortable to say that I’ve deleted and reinserted this paragraph five times now. My abuse was never physical, nothing anyone could ever see, but it was emotional, and devastating. I thought nothing of myself by grade six. I grew up listening to my father berate my mother, over and over and over again. Eventually, it shifted to me, sadly. I got it from my dad and my mom; she was hurt and I was an outlet. I was never an impressive child, in their eyes. I was just a girl “who would have to spend her life trying really hard to become average.” I put that in quotes because that’s the exact phrase my second grade teacher used to describe me to my mother, as I stood by her side and listened; It’s funny what sticks with you. I felt so stupid. As I grew, I continued to feel stupid. Eventually other kids started to notice, and liked to remind me. Truthfully I was never stupid. My brain worked differently and processed more slowly and my lack of focus, combined with my anxiety, depression, and hidden trauma made learning and succeeding hard. My father refused to let me be evaluated or be medicated, so I crawled along as my peers sped by. My junior year I received the coveted designation of being a McKinney-Vento recipient, a polite way to call me homeless. Sometimes I wonder what an impressive application I would’ve submitted to you if things were different… You can’t wonder and wish life into submission, but you can develop the grit to take it under control. I like the word grit; I think it describes me well. Grit is something that doesn’t come from easy and privileged. Grit isn’t something you can detect from a GPA or test score. Grit becomes a gift to those of us who come from hard places, but have the determination to dream so big that we find our way out. Most of my life, I’ve resented my struggles, but no longer today. I proudly present to you, dearest reader, a girl who knows how to thrive when life is hard; a girl who knows success takes work; a girl who doesn’t give up on her dreams. What are my dreams; I know you’re wondering… I will grow up to become a pediatric nurse, working in a children’s hospital. I’ll work alongside children and families who are going through the hardest times in their lives. I’ll hold their hands and give them comfort like only a fellow girl from a hard place can do.

In a world where physical health often takes center stage, the significance of mental health can easily be overlooked. Yet, as I have come to understand through personal experience, the importance of mental health awareness and advocacy cannot be overstated. High School was a challenge. I lived in a home where chaos was common. I spent many nights alone in my room, wishing that I was unalive. I have struggled with my mental health for as long as I can remember. My father, being Middle-Eastern, found it culturally unacceptable, and pretended it did not exist. I went undiagnosed and unmedicated for most of my life. I see what mental health, or a lack thereof can do to our youth. This stigma creates barriers to seeking help and support, perpetuating a cycle of silence and suffering. As someone who has lived with mental health challenges firsthand, I understand the isolation and fear that often accompany these struggles. For years, I held onto feelings of shame and inadequacy, believing that my struggles were a sign of weakness rather than a legitimate concern. It wasn't until I found the courage to speak out and seek support that I began to realize the power of openness and vulnerability. I've learned the power of my words, and I also learned the power that comes from admitting we are not all-powerful. I have learned the power of my personal story and the power that comes from listening to yours. These lessons have helped me define my future; helped me see my place in this world. It is nursing; psychiatric nursing, just like my aunt, my mentor and role-model. Through my journey, I have come to appreciate the importance of speaking your story in order to break down barriers and foster a culture of acceptance and care. By openly discussing mental health and sharing our stories, we can challenge misconceptions and demonstrate that seeking help is a sign of strength, not weakness. By normalizing conversations around mental health, we can create a culture where individuals feel empowered to prioritize their well-being and seek the help they need without fear of judgment or discrimination. I learned to overcome the hard way, but that does not have to be the story for us all. After proper diagnosis, medication, and counseling, I found something within myself that I did not know was there. It was grit. You can’t wonder and wish life into submission, but you can develop the grit to take it under control. I like the word grit; I think it describes me well. Grit is something that doesn’t come from easy and privileged. Grit isn’t something you can detect from a GPA or test score. Grit becomes a gift to those of us who come from hard places, but have the determination to dream so big that we find our way out. Speaking openly about mental illness, might just be the way out for someone else, so speak loudly. As a future leader and advocate, I am committed to sharing my story and speaking out on mental health awareness. When, no longer if, I get to college, I will pursue a degree in nursing. I want to be like my aunt, my biggest inspiration. She is a registered nurse who is pursuing her Doctorate as a Psychiatric Nurse Practitioner; one day, with the help of this scholarship, I will do the same. Thank you for supporting those of us who have struggled with our mental health. Thank you for letting me tell my story.

In a world where physical health often takes center stage, the significance of mental health can easily be overlooked. Yet, as I have come to understand through personal experience, the importance of mental health awareness and advocacy cannot be overstated. High School was a challenge. I lived in a home where chaos was common. I spent many nights alone in my room, wishing that I was unalive. I have struggled with my mental health for as long as I can remember. My father, being Middle-Eastern, found it culturally unacceptable, and pretended it did not exist. I went undiagnosed and unmedicated for most of my life. I see what mental health, or a lack thereof can do to our youth. This stigma creates barriers to seeking help and support, perpetuating a cycle of silence and suffering. As someone who has lived with mental health challenges firsthand, I understand the isolation and fear that often accompany these struggles. For years, I held onto feelings of shame and inadequacy, believing that my struggles were a sign of weakness rather than a legitimate concern. It wasn't until I found the courage to speak out and seek support that I began to realize the power of openness and vulnerability. I've learned the power of my words, and I also learned the power that comes from admitting we are not all-powerful. I have learned the power of my personal story and the power that comes from listening to yours. These lessons have helped me define my future; helped me see my place in this world. It is nursing; psychiatric nursing, just like my aunt, my mentor and role-model. Through my journey, I have come to appreciate the importance of speaking your story in order to break down barriers and foster a culture of acceptance and care. By openly discussing mental health and sharing our stories, we can challenge misconceptions and demonstrate that seeking help is a sign of strength, not weakness. By normalizing conversations around mental health, we can create a culture where individuals feel empowered to prioritize their well-being and seek the help they need without fear of judgment or discrimination. I learned to overcome the hard way, but that does not have to be the story for us all. After proper diagnosis, medication, and counseling, I found something within myself that I did not know was there. It was grit. You can’t wonder and wish life into submission, but you can develop the grit to take it under control. I like the word grit; I think it describes me well. Grit is something that doesn’t come from easy and privileged. Grit isn’t something you can detect from a GPA or test score. Grit becomes a gift to those of us who come from hard places, but have the determination to dream so big that we find our way out. Speaking openly about mental illness, might just be the way out for someone else, so speak loudly. As a future leader and advocate, I am committed to sharing my story and speaking out on mental health awareness. When, no longer if, I get to college, I will pursue a degree in nursing. I want to be like my aunt, my biggest inspiration. She is a registered nurse who is pursuing her Doctorate as a Psychiatric Nurse Practitioner; one day, with the help of this scholarship, I will do the same. Thank you for supporting those of us who have struggled with our mental health. Thank you for letting me tell my story.

There’s so much more to me than people will ever know. To show you the chapters of my life, my story, I’d have to open my book to you. It’s a scary thought for me; I've tried my entire life to keep it closed. I’ve had a hard life. What makes it even harder is that from the outside, it doesn’t look that way. I’m not a person that anyone would look at and feel sorry for. I’m not a person that anyone would look at and think to offer help. I’m not a person that anyone would look at and second guess if the smile on my face was fake; it was by the way. Most of this was by design, some of this was by assumption; the assumption that “pretty” girls, from “good” families, living in Jenks, America have it all. I did not have it all. I am a child of abuse. I don’t even like to put this into words. It makes me so uncomfortable to say that I’ve deleted and reinserted this paragraph five times now. My abuse was never physical, nothing anyone could ever see, but it was emotional, and devastating. I thought nothing of myself by grade six. I grew up listening to my father berate my mother, over and over and over again. Eventually, it shifted to me; here I needed compassion. I was never an impressive child, in their eyes. I was just a girl “who would have to spend her life trying really hard to become average.” I put that in quotes because that’s the exact phrase my second grade teacher used to describe me to my mother, as I stood by her side and listened; It’s funny what sticks with you. I felt so stupid. As I grew, I continued to feel stupid. Eventually other kids started to notice, and liked to remind me. Truthfully I was never stupid. My brain worked differently and processed more slowly and my lack of focus, combined with my anxiety, depression, and hidden trauma made learning and succeeding hard. My father refused to let me be evaluated or be medicated, so I crawled along as my peers sped by. My junior year I received the coveted designation of being a McKinney-Vento recipient, a polite way to call me homeless; here I needed compassion. Sometimes I wonder what an impressive story I would have told if things were different… You can’t wonder and wish life into submission, but you can develop the grit to take it under control. I like the word grit; I think it describes me well. Grit is something that doesn’t come from easy and privileged. Grit isn’t something you can detect from a GPA or test score. Grit becomes a gift to those of us who come from hard places, but have the determination to dream so big that we find our way out. Most of my life, I’ve resented my struggles, but no longer today. I proudly present to you, dearest reader, a girl who knows how to thrive when life is hard; a girl who knows success takes work; a girl who doesn’t give up on her dreams; a girl who will give the compassion she didn’t always get. What are my dreams; I know you’re wondering… I will grow up to become a pediatric nurse, working in a children’s hospital. I’ll work alongside children and families who are going through the hardest times in their lives. I’ll hold their hands and give them comfort and compassion like only a girl from a hard place can do.

There’s so much more to me than people will ever know. To show you the chapters of my life, my story, I’d have to open my book to you. It’s a scary thought for me; I've tried my entire life to keep it closed. I’ve had a hard life. What makes it even harder is that from the outside, it doesn’t look that way. I’m not a person that anyone would look at and feel sorry for. I’m not a person that anyone would look at and think to offer help. I’m not a person that anyone would look at and second guess if the smile on my face was fake; it was by the way. Most of this was by design, some of this was by assumption; the assumption that “pretty” girls, from “good” families, living in Jenks, America have it all. I did not have it all. I am a child of abuse. I don’t even like to put this into words. It makes me so uncomfortable to say that I’ve deleted and reinserted this paragraph five times now. My abuse was never physical, nothing anyone could ever see, but it was emotional, and devastating. I thought nothing of myself by grade six. I grew up listening to my father berate my mother, over and over and over again. Eventually, it shifted to me; here I needed compassion. I was never an impressive child, in their eyes. I was just a girl “who would have to spend her life trying really hard to become average.” I put that in quotes because that’s the exact phrase my second grade teacher used to describe me to my mother, as I stood by her side and listened; It’s funny what sticks with you. I felt so stupid. As I grew, I continued to feel stupid. Eventually other kids started to notice, and liked to remind me. Truthfully I was never stupid. My brain worked differently and processed more slowly and my lack of focus, combined with my anxiety, depression, and hidden trauma made learning and succeeding hard. My father refused to let me be evaluated or be medicated, so I crawled along as my peers sped by. My junior year I received the coveted designation of being a McKinney-Vento recipient, a polite way to call me homeless; here I needed compassion. Sometimes I wonder what an impressive story I would have told if things were different… You can’t wonder and wish life into submission, but you can develop the grit to take it under control. I like the word grit; I think it describes me well. Grit is something that doesn’t come from easy and privileged. Grit isn’t something you can detect from a GPA or test score. Grit becomes a gift to those of us who come from hard places, but have the determination to dream so big that we find our way out. Most of my life, I’ve resented my struggles, but no longer today. I proudly present to you, dearest reader, a girl who knows how to thrive when life is hard; a girl who knows success takes work; a girl who doesn’t give up on her dreams; a girl who will give the compassion she didn’t always get. What are my dreams; I know you’re wondering… I will grow up to become a pediatric nurse, working in a children’s hospital. I’ll work alongside children and families who are going through the hardest times in their lives. I’ll hold their hands and give them comfort and compassion like only a girl from a hard place can do.

There’s so much more to me than people will ever know. To show you the chapters of my life, my story, I’d have to open my book to you. It’s a scary thought for me; I've tried my entire life to keep it closed. I’ve had a hard life. What makes it even harder is that from the outside, it doesn’t look that way. I’m not a person that anyone would look at and feel sorry for. I’m not a person that anyone would look at and think to offer help. I’m not a person that anyone would look at and second guess if the smile on my face was fake; it was by the way. Most of this was by design, some of this was by assumption; the assumption that “pretty” girls, from “good” families, living in Jenks, America have it all. I did not have it all. I am a child of abuse. I don’t even like to put this into words. It makes me so uncomfortable to say that I’ve deleted and reinserted this paragraph five times now. My abuse was never physical, nothing anyone could ever see, but it was emotional, and devastating. I thought nothing of myself by grade six. I grew up listening to my father berate my mother, over and over and over again. Eventually, it shifted to me; here I needed compassion. I was never an impressive child, in their eyes. I was just a girl “who would have to spend her life trying really hard to become average.” I put that in quotes because that’s the exact phrase my second grade teacher used to describe me to my mother, as I stood by her side and listened; It’s funny what sticks with you. I felt so stupid. As I grew, I continued to feel stupid. Eventually other kids started to notice, and liked to remind me. Truthly I was never stupid. My brain worked differently and processed more slowly and my lack of focus, combined with my anxiety, depression, and hidden trauma made learning and succeeding hard. My father refused to let me be evaluated or be medicated, so I crawled along as my peers sped by. My junior year I received the coveted designation of being a McKinney-Vento recipient, a polite way to call me homeless; here I needed compassion. Sometimes I wonder what an impressive story I would have told if things were different… You can’t wonder and wish life into submission, but you can develop the grit to take it under control. I like the word grit; I think it describes me well. Grit is something that doesn’t come from easy and privileged. Grit isn’t something you can detect from a GPA or test score. Grit becomes a gift to those of us who come from hard places, but have the determination to dream so big that we find our way out. Most of my life, I’ve resented my struggles, but no longer today. I proudly present to you, dearest reader, a girl who knows how to thrive when life is hard; a girl who knows success takes work; a girl who doesn’t give up on her dreams; a girl who will give the compassion she didn’t always get. What are my dreams; I know you’re wondering… I will grow up to become a pediatric nurse, working in a children’s hospital. I’ll work alongside children and families who are going through the hardest times in their lives. I’ll hold their hands and give them comfort and compassion like only a girl from a hard place can do.

There’s so much more to me than people will ever know. To show you the chapters of my life, my story, I’d have to open my book to you. It’s a scary thought for me; I've tried my entire life to keep it closed. I’ve had a hard life. What makes it even harder is that from the outside, it doesn’t look that way. I’m not a person that anyone would look at and feel sorry for. I’m not a person that anyone would look at and think to offer help. I’m not a person that anyone would look at and second guess if the smile on my face was fake; it was by the way. Most of this was by design, some of this was by assumption; the assumption that “pretty” girls, from “good” families, living in Jenks, America have it all. I did not have it all. I am a child of abuse. I don’t even like to put this into words. It makes me so uncomfortable to say that I’ve deleted and reinserted this paragraph five times now. My abuse was never physical, nothing anyone could ever see, but it was emotional, and devastating. I thought nothing of myself by grade six. I grew up listening to my father berate my mother, over and over and over again. Eventually, it shifted to me; here I needed compassion. I was never an impressive child, in their eyes. I was just a girl “who would have to spend her life trying really hard to become average.” I put that in quotes because that’s the exact phrase my second grade teacher used to describe me to my mother, as I stood by her side and listened; It’s funny what sticks with you. I felt so stupid. As I grew, I continued to feel stupid. Eventually other kids started to notice, and liked to remind me. Truthfully I was never stupid. My brain worked differently and processed more slowly and my lack of focus, combined with my anxiety, depression, and hidden trauma made learning and succeeding hard. My father refused to let me be evaluated or be medicated, so I crawled along as my peers sped by. My junior year I received the coveted designation of being a McKinney-Vento recipient, a polite way to call me homeless; here I needed compassion. Sometimes I wonder what an impressive story I would have told if things were different… You can’t wonder and wish life into submission, but you can develop the grit to take it under control. I like the word grit; I think it describes me well. Grit is something that doesn’t come from easy and privileged. Grit isn’t something you can detect from a GPA or test score. Grit becomes a gift to those of us who come from hard places, but have the determination to dream so big that we find our way out. Most of my life, I’ve resented my struggles, but no longer today. I proudly present to you, dearest reader, a girl who knows how to thrive when life is hard; a girl who knows success takes work; a girl who doesn’t give up on her dreams; a girl who will give the compassion she didn’t always get. What are my dreams; I know you’re wondering… I will grow up to become a pediatric nurse, working in a children’s hospital. I’ll work alongside children and families who are going through the hardest times in their lives. I’ll hold their hands and give them comfort and compassion like only a girl from a hard place can do.

There’s so much more to me than people will ever know. To show you the chapters of my life, my story, I’d have to open my book to you. It’s a scary thought for me; I've tried my entire life to keep it closed. I’ve had a hard life. What makes it even harder is that from the outside, it doesn’t look that way. I’m not a person that anyone would look at and feel sorry for. I’m not a person that anyone would look at and think to offer help. I’m not a person that anyone would look at and second guess if the smile on my face was fake; it was by the way. Most of this was by design, some of this was by assumption; the assumption that “pretty” girls, from “good” families, living in Jenks, America have it all. I did not have it all. I am a child of abuse. I don’t even like to put this into words. It makes me so uncomfortable to say that I’ve deleted and reinserted this paragraph five times now. My abuse was never physical, nothing anyone could ever see, but it was emotional, and devastating. I thought nothing of myself by grade six. I grew up listening to my father berate my mother, over and over and over again. Eventually, it shifted to me. I was never an impressive child, in their eyes. I was just a girl “who would have to spend her life trying really hard to become average.” I put that in quotes because that’s the exact phrase my second grade teacher used to describe me to my mother, as I stood by her side and listened; It’s funny what sticks with you. I felt so stupid. As I grew, I continued to feel stupid. Eventually other kids started to notice, and liked to remind me. Truthfully I was never stupid. My brain worked differently and processed more slowly and my lack of focus, combined with my anxiety, depression, and hidden trauma made learning and succeeding hard. My father refused to let me be evaluated or be medicated, so I crawled along as my peers sped by. My junior year I received the coveted designation of being a McKinney-Vento recipient, a polite way to call me homeless. Sometimes I wonder what an impressive story I would have told if things were different… You can’t wonder and wish life into submission, but you can develop the grit to take it under control. I like the word grit; I think it describes me well. Grit is something that doesn’t come from easy and privileged. Grit isn’t something you can detect from a GPA or test score. Grit becomes a gift to those of us who come from hard places, but have the determination to dream so big that we find our way out. Most of my life, I’ve resented my struggles, but no longer today. I proudly present to you, dearest reader, a girl who knows how to thrive when life is hard; a girl who knows success takes work; a girl who doesn’t give up on her dreams; a girl whose greatest accomplishment is simply making it this far, but still dreaming for more. What are my dreams; I know you’re wondering… I will grow up to become a pediatric nurse, working in a children’s hospital. I’ll work alongside children and families who are going through the hardest times in their lives. I’ll hold their hands and give them comfort and compassion like only a girl from a hard place can do.

There’s so much more to me than people will ever know. To show you the chapters of my life, my story, I’d have to open my book to you. It’s a scary thought for me; I've tried my entire life to keep it closed. I’ve had a hard life. What makes it even harder is that from the outside, it doesn’t look that way. I’m not a person that anyone would look at and feel sorry for. I’m not a person that anyone would look at and think to offer help. I’m not a person that anyone would look at and second guess if the smile on my face was fake; it was by the way. Most of this was by design, some of this was by assumption; the assumption that “pretty” girls, from “good” families, living in Jenks, America have it all. I did not have it all. I am a child of abuse. I don’t even like to put this into words. It makes me so uncomfortable to say that I’ve deleted and reinserted this paragraph five times now. My abuse was never physical, nothing anyone could ever see, but it was emotional, and devastating. I thought nothing of myself by grade six. I grew up listening to my father berate my mother, over and over and over again. Eventually, it shifted to me. I was never an impressive child, in their eyes. I was just a girl “who would have to spend her life trying really hard to become average.” I put that in quotes because that’s the exact phrase my second grade teacher used to describe me to my mother, as I stood by her side and listened; It’s funny what sticks with you. I felt so stupid. As I grew, I continued to feel stupid. Eventually other kids started to notice, and liked to remind me. Truthfully I was never stupid. My brain worked differently and processed more slowly and my lack of focus, combined with my anxiety, depression, and hidden trauma made learning and succeeding hard. My father refused to let me be evaluated or be medicated, so I crawled along as my peers sped by. My junior year I received the coveted designation of being a McKinney-Vento recipient, a polite way to call me homeless. Sometimes I wonder what an impressive story I would have told if things were different… You can’t wonder and wish life into submission, but you can develop the grit to take it under control. I like the word grit; I think it describes me well. Grit is something that doesn’t come from easy and privileged. Grit isn’t something you can detect from a GPA or test score. Grit becomes a gift to those of us who come from hard places, but have the determination to dream so big that we find our way out. Most of my life, I’ve resented my struggles, but no longer today. I proudly present to you, dearest reader, a girl who knows how to thrive when life is hard; a girl who knows success takes work; a girl who doesn’t give up on her dreams; a girl who will give the compassion she didn’t always get. What are my dreams; I know you’re wondering… I will grow up to become a pediatric nurse, working in a children’s hospital. I’ll work alongside children and families who are going through the hardest times in their lives. I’ll hold their hands and give them comfort and compassion like only a girl from a hard place can do. This scholarship, will make it all possible.

There’s so much more to me than people will ever know. To show you the chapters of my life, my story, I’d have to open my book to you. It’s a scary thought for me; I've tried my entire life to keep it closed. I’ve had a hard life. What makes it even harder is that from the outside, it doesn’t look that way. I’m not a person that anyone would look at and feel sorry for. I’m not a person that anyone would look at and think to offer help. I’m not a person that anyone would look at and second guess if the smile on my face was fake; it was by the way. Most of this was by design, some of this was by assumption; the assumption that “pretty” girls, from “good” families, living in Jenks, America have it all. I did not have it all. I am a child of abuse. I don’t even like to put this into words. It makes me so uncomfortable to say that I’ve deleted and reinserted this paragraph five times now. My abuse was never physical, nothing anyone could ever see, but it was emotional, and devastating. I thought nothing of myself by grade six. I grew up listening to my father berate my mother, over and over and over again. Eventually, it shifted to me; here I needed compassion. I was never an impressive child, in their eyes. I was just a girl “who would have to spend her life trying really hard to become average.” I put that in quotes because that’s the exact phrase my second grade teacher used to describe me to my mother, as I stood by her side and listened; It’s funny what sticks with you. I felt so stupid. As I grew, I continued to feel stupid. Eventually other kids started to notice, and liked to remind me. Truthfully I was never stupid. My brain worked differently and processed more slowly and my lack of focus, combined with my anxiety, depression, and hidden trauma made learning and succeeding hard. My father refused to let me be evaluated or be medicated, so I crawled along as my peers sped by. My junior year I received the coveted designation of being a McKinney-Vento recipient, a polite way to call me homeless; here I needed compassion. Sometimes I wonder what an impressive story I would have told if things were different… You can’t wonder and wish life into submission, but you can develop the grit to take it under control. I like the word grit; I think it describes me well. Grit is something that doesn’t come from easy and privileged. Grit isn’t something you can detect from a GPA or test score. Grit becomes a gift to those of us who come from hard places, but have the determination to dream so big that we find our way out. Most of my life, I’ve resented my struggles, but no longer today. I proudly present to you, dearest reader, a girl who knows how to thrive when life is hard; a girl who knows success takes work; a girl who doesn’t give up on her dreams; a girl who will give the compassion she didn’t always get. What are my dreams; I know you’re wondering… I will grow up to become a pediatric nurse, working in a children’s hospital. I’ll work alongside children and families who are going through the hardest times in their lives. I’ll hold their hands and give them comfort and compassion like only a girl from a hard place can do.

There’s so much more to me than people will ever know. To show you the chapters of my life, my story, I’d have to open my book to you. It’s a scary thought for me; I've tried my entire life to keep it closed. I’ve had a hard life. What makes it even harder is that from the outside, it doesn’t look that way. I’m not a person that anyone would look at and feel sorry for. I’m not a person that anyone would look at and think to offer help. I’m not a person that anyone would look at and second guess if the smile on my face was fake; it was by the way. Most of this was by design, some of this was by assumption; the assumption that “pretty” girls, from “good” families, living in Jenks, America have it all. I did not have it all. I am a child of abuse. I don’t even like to put this into words. It makes me so uncomfortable to say that I’ve deleted and reinserted this paragraph five times now. My abuse was never physical, nothing anyone could ever see, but it was emotional, and devastating. I thought nothing of myself by grade six. I grew up listening to my father berate my mother, over and over and over again. Eventually, it shifted to me, sadly. I got it from my dad and my mom; she was hurt and I was an outlet. I was never an impressive child, in their eyes. I was just a girl “who would have to spend her life trying really hard to become average.” I put that in quotes because that’s the exact phrase my second grade teacher used to describe me to my mother, as I stood by her side and listened; It’s funny what sticks with you. I felt so stupid. As I grew, I continued to feel stupid. Eventually other kids started to notice, and liked to remind me. Truthly I was never stupid. My brain worked differently and processed more slowly and my lack of focus, combined with my anxiety, depression, and hidden trauma made learning and succeeding hard. My father refused to let me be evaluated or be medicated, so I crawled along as my peers sped by. My junior year I received the coveted designation of being a McKinney-Vento recipient, a polite way to call me homeless. Sometimes I wonder what an impressive application I would’ve submitted to you if things were different… You can’t wonder and wish life into submission, but you can develop the grit to take it under control. I like the word grit; I think it describes me well. Grit is something that doesn’t come from easy and privileged. Grit isn’t something you can detect from a GPA or test score. Grit becomes a gift to those of us who come from hard places, but have the determination to dream so big that we find our way out. Most of my life, I’ve resented my struggles, but no longer today. I proudly present to you, dearest reader, a girl who knows how to thrive when life is hard; a girl who knows success takes work; a girl who doesn’t give up on her dreams. What are my dreams; I know you’re wondering… I will grow up to become a pediatric nurse, working in a children’s hospital. I’ll work alongside children and families who are going through the hardest times in their lives. I’ll hold their hands and give them comfort like only a fellow girl from a hard place can do.

There’s so much more to me than people will ever know. To show you the chapters of my life, my story, I’d have to open my book to you. It’s a scary thought for me; I've tried my entire life to keep it closed. I’ve had a hard life. What makes it even harder is that from the outside, it doesn’t look that way. I’m not a person that anyone would look at and feel sorry for. I’m not a person that anyone would look at and think to offer help. I’m not a person that anyone would look at and second guess if the smile on my face was fake; it was by the way. Most of this was by design, some of this was by assumption; the assumption that “pretty” girls, from “good” families, living in Jenks, America have it all. I did not have it all. I am a child of abuse. I don’t even like to put this into words. It makes me so uncomfortable to say that I’ve deleted and reinserted this paragraph five times now. My abuse was never physical, nothing anyone could ever see, but it was emotional, and devastating. I thought nothing of myself by grade six. I grew up listening to my father berate my mother, over and over and over again. Eventually, it shifted to me, sadly. I got it from my dad and my mom; she was hurt and I was an outlet. I was never an impressive child, in their eyes. I was just a girl “who would have to spend her life trying really hard to become average.” I put that in quotes because that’s the exact phrase my second grade teacher used to describe me to my mother, as I stood by her side and listened; It’s funny what sticks with you. I felt so stupid. As I grew, I continued to feel stupid. Eventually other kids started to notice, and liked to remind me. Truthly I was never stupid. My brain worked differently and processed more slowly and my lack of focus, combined with my anxiety, depression, and hidden trauma made learning and succeeding hard. My father refused to let me be evaluated or be medicated, so I crawled along as my peers sped by. My junior year I received the coveted designation of being a McKinney-Vento recipient, a polite way to call me homeless. Sometimes I wonder what an impressive application I would’ve submitted to you if things were different… You can’t wonder and wish life into submission, but you can develop the grit to take it under control. I like the word grit; I think it describes me well. Grit is something that doesn’t come from easy and privileged. Grit isn’t something you can detect from a GPA or test score. Grit becomes a gift to those of us who come from hard places, but have the determination to dream so big that we find our way out. Most of my life, I’ve resented my struggles, but no longer today. I proudly present to you, dearest reader, a girl who knows how to thrive when life is hard; a girl who knows success takes work; a girl who doesn’t give up on her dreams. What are my dreams; I know you’re wondering… I will grow up to become a pediatric nurse, working in a children’s hospital. I’ll work alongside children and families who are going through the hardest times in their lives. I’ll hold their hands and give them comfort like only a fellow girl from a hard place can do.

There is so much more to me than people will ever know. To show you the chapters of my life, my story, I’d have to open up my book to you. This is a scary thought for me; I've tried my entire life to keep it closed. However, you have asked for me to be vulnerable; to share the stories that would render my submission incomplete without retelling, so here I go. I’ve had a hard life. What makes it even harder is that from the outside, it doesn’t look that way. I’m not a person that anyone would look at and feel sorry for. I’m not a person that anyone would look at and think to offer help. I’m not a person that anyone would look at and second guess if the smile on my face was fake; it was by the way. Most of this was by design, some of this was by assumption; the assumption that “pretty” girls, from “good” families, living in Jenks, America have it all. I did not have it all. I am a child of abuse. I don’t even like to put this into words. It makes me so uncomfortable to say that I’ve deleted and reinserted this paragraph five times now. My abuse was never physical, nothing anyone could ever see, but it was emotional, and devastating. I thought nothing of myself by grade six. I grew up listening to my father berate my mother, over and over and over again. Eventually, it shifted to me, sadly. I got it from my dad and my mom; she was hurt and I was an outlet. In the midst of my hurt, I had to remain silent. I have a strong history of mental illness and emotional dysregulation that runs within my family. Being of Middle Eastern decent, adds to the complexities of my personal experience. It is hard to live in a home where mental illness "does not exist," when you have so many deficiencies in your mental health. I have Major Depressive Disorder, ADHD, and hormone dysregulation. I am have learning disabilities and eventually received services through my IEP. Having this labels have both hurt me, and made me strong. I was never an impressive child, in their eyes. I was just a girl “who would have to spend her life trying really hard to become average.” I put that in quotes because that’s the exact phrase my second grade teacher used to describe me to my mother, as I stood by her side and listened; It’s funny what sticks with you. I felt so stupid. As I grew, I continued to feel stupid. Eventually other kids started to notice, and liked to remind me. Truthfully I was never stupid. My brain worked differently and processed more slowly and my lack of focus, combined with my anxiety, depression, and hidden trauma made learning and succeeding hard. My father refused to let me be evaluated or be medicated, so I crawled along as my peers sped by. My junior year I received the coveted designation of being a Mckinney-Vento recipient, a polite way to call me homeless. Sometimes I wonder what an impressive application I would’ve submitted to you if things were different… You can’t wonder and wish life into submission, but you can develop the grit to take it under control. I like the word grit; I think it describes me well. Grit is something that doesn’t come from easy and privileged. Grit isn’t something you can detect from a GPA or test score. Grit becomes a gift to those of us who come from hard places, but have the determination to dream so big that we find our way out. For me, navigating through mental health struggles has instilled within me a profound empathy and understanding for others facing similar battles. These experiences have shown me the importance of compassionate care and effective support systems in overcoming life's obstacles. Witnessing the impact of mental health issues on my own life and those around me has ignited a passion within me to make a difference in the lives of others. Most of my life, I’ve resented my struggles; today I celebrate them for all that they are. I proudly present to you, dearest reader, a dented, yet unbroken, girl who knows how to thrive when life is hard; a girl who knows success takes work; a girl who doesn’t give up on her dreams. What are my dreams; I know you’re wondering… I will grow up to become a pediatric nurse, working in a children’s hospital. I will work alongside children and families who are going through the hardest time in their lives. I will hold their hands and give them comfort like only a fellow girl from a hard place can do. Today, I am endlessly proud of myself for refusing to settle for average and appreciate every setback that I transformed into momentum.

Helping others with their mental health has been a big part of my life. I've been there for friends and family when they needed someone to talk to, offering support and understanding. Whether it's listening without judgment, providing encouragement, or suggesting resources, I try to be a positive presence for those struggling with their mental well-being. I have a strong history of mental illness and emotional dysregulation that runs within my family. Being of Middle Eastern decent, adds to the complexities of my personal experience. It is hard to live in a home where mental illness "does not exist," when you have deficiencies in your mental health. I have Major Depressive Disorder, ADHD, and hormone dysregulation. I am have learning disabilities and receive services through my IEP. Having this labels have both hurt me, and made me strong. Looking ahead, I'm passionate about pursuing a degree in nursing to continue helping others, especially with their emotional needs. Nursing isn't just about giving medicine; it's also about providing comfort, empathy, and emotional support. Through my studies, I hope to learn more about mental health so I can better understand and assist those struggling with their mental well-being. I plan to immerse myself in courses that explore these topics deeply, and I'm eager to gain practical experience in college and in my future program. By learning how to effectively communicate and connect with patients, I believe I can make a real difference in their lives beyond just treating their physical symptoms. Ultimately, my goal is to create a safe and supportive environment for people to open up about their mental health struggles without fear of judgment. I want to be a source of comfort and encouragement for those going through difficult times, helping them navigate their emotions and find the strength to keep going. Through dedication, compassion, and a commitment to learning, I know I can make a meaningful impact in the field of nursing. I'm excited about the opportunity to continue helping others and making a positive difference in their lives, one interaction at a time. Being awarded this scholarship will make my dreams obtainable. I am a working student who will be paying my way through college. Thank you for your time, consideration, and for helping me to one day help others.

There is so much more to me than people will ever know. To show you the chapters of my life, my story, I’d have to open up my book to you. This is a scary thought for me; I've tried my entire life to keep it closed. However, you have asked for me to be vulnerable; to share the stories that would render my submission incomplete without retelling, so here I go. I’ve had a hard life. What makes it even harder is that from the outside, it doesn’t look that way. I’m not a person that anyone would look at and feel sorry for. I’m not a person that anyone would look at and think to offer help. I’m not a person that anyone would look at and second guess if the smile on my face was fake; it was by the way. I did not have it all. I am a child of abuse. I don’t even like to put this into words. It makes me so uncomfortable to say that I’ve deleted and reinserted this paragraph five times now. My abuse was never physical, nothing anyone could ever see, but it was emotional, and devastating. I thought nothing of myself by grade six. My diagnosis of Major Depressive Disorder, Hormone Imbalance, and ADHD made me feel so ashamed. I was never an impressive child, in their eyes. I was just a girl “who would have to spend her life trying really hard to become average.” I put that in quotes because that’s the exact phrase my second grade teacher used to describe me to my mother, as I stood by her side and listened; It’s funny what sticks with you. I felt so stupid. As I grew, I continued to feel stupid. Eventually other kids started to notice, and liked to remind me. Truthly I was never stupid. My brain worked differently and processed more slowly and my lack of focus, combined with my anxiety, depression, and hidden trauma made learning and succeeding hard. My father refused to let me be evaluated or be medicated, so I crawled along as my peers sped by. My junior year I received the coveted designation of being a Mckinney-Vento recipient, a polite way to call me homeless. Sometimes I wonder what an impressive application I would’ve submitted to you if things were different… You can’t wonder and wish life into submission, but you can develop the grit to take it under control. I like the word grit; I think it describes me well. Grit is something that doesn’t come from easy and privileged. Grit isn’t something you can detect from a GPA or test score. Grit becomes a gift to those of us who come from hard places, but have the determination to dream so big that we find our way out. Most of my life, I’ve resented my struggles; today I celebrate them for all that they are. I proudly present to you, dearest reader, a dented, yet unbroken, girl who knows how to thrive when life is hard; a girl who knows success takes work; a girl who doesn’t give up on her dreams. What are my dreams; I know you’re wondering… I will grow up to become a pediatric nurse, working in a children’s hospital. I will work alongside children and families who are going through the hardest time in their lives. I will hold their hands and give them comfort like only a fellow girl from a hard place can do. Today, I am endlessly proud of myself for refusing to settle for average.

In a world where physical health often takes center stage, the significance of mental health can easily be overlooked. Yet, as I have come to understand through personal the importance of mental health awareness and advocacy cannot be overstated. Highschool was a challenge. I lived in a home where chaos was common. I spent many nights alone in my room, wishing that I was unalive. I have struggled with my mental health for as long as I can remember. My father, being Middle-Eastern, found it culturally unacceptable, and pretended it did not exist. I went undiagnosed and unmedicated for most of my life. I see what mental health, or a lack thereof can do to our youth. This stigma creates barriers to seeking help and support, perpetuating a cycle of silence and suffering. As someone who has grappled with mental health challenges firsthand, I understand the isolation and fear that often accompany these struggles. For years, I internalized feelings of shame and inadequacy, believing that my struggles were a sign of weakness rather than a legitimate health concern. It wasn't until I found the courage to speak out and seek support that I began to realize the transformative power of openness and vulnerability. Through my journey, I have come to appreciate the importance of mental health awareness in breaking down barriers and fostering a culture of acceptance and understanding. By openly discussing mental health and sharing our stories, we can challenge misconceptions and demonstrate that seeking help is a sign of strength, not weakness. Moreover, by normalizing conversations around mental health, we can create a supportive environment where individuals feel empowered to prioritize their well-being and seek the help they need without fear of judgment or discrimination. I learned to overcome the hard way, but that does not have to be the story for us all. After proper diagnosis, medication, and counseling, I found something within myself that I did not know was there. It was grit. You can’t wonder and wish life into submission, but you can develop the grit to take it under control. I like the word grit; I think it describes me well. Grit is something that doesn’t come from easy and privileged. Grit isn’t something you can detect from a GPA or test score. Grit becomes a gift to those of us who come from hard places, but have the determination to dream so big that we find our way out. Speaking openly about mental illness, might just be the way out for someone else, so speak loudly. As a future leader and advocate, I am committed to championing mental health awareness and advocating for policies that promote mental well-being for all. When I get to college, I will pursue a degree in nursing. I want to be like my aunt, my biggest inspiration. She is a registered nurse who is pursuing her Doctorate as a Psychiatric Nurse Practitioner; one day, with the help of this scholarship, I will do the same. Thank you for supporting those of us who have struggled with our mental health. Thank you for letting me tell my story.

In a world where physical health often takes center stage, the significance of mental health can easily be overlooked. Yet, as I have come to understand through personal the importance of mental health awareness and advocacy cannot be overstated. Highschool was a challenge. I lived in a home where chaos was common. I spent many nights alone in my room, wishing that I was unalive. I have struggled with my mental health for as long as I can remember. My father, being Middle-Eastern, found it culturally unacceptable, and pretended it did not exist. I went undiagnosed and unmedicated for most of my life. I see what mental health, or a lack thereof can do to our youth. This stigma creates barriers to seeking help and support, perpetuating a cycle of silence and suffering. As someone who has grappled with mental health challenges firsthand, I understand the isolation and fear that often accompany these struggles. For years, I internalized feelings of shame and inadequacy, believing that my struggles were a sign of weakness rather than a legitimate health concern. It wasn't until I found the courage to speak out and seek support that I began to realize the transformative power of openness and vulnerability. Through my journey, I have come to appreciate the importance of mental health awareness in breaking down barriers and fostering a culture of acceptance and understanding. By openly discussing mental health and sharing our stories, we can challenge misconceptions and demonstrate that seeking help is a sign of strength, not weakness. Moreover, by normalizing conversations around mental health, we can create a supportive environment where individuals feel empowered to prioritize their well-being and seek the help they need without fear of judgment or discrimination. I learned to overcome the hard way, but that does not have to be the story for us all. After proper diagnosis, medication, and counseling, I found something within myself that I did not know was there. It was grit. You can’t wonder and wish life into submission, but you can develop the grit to take it under control. I like the word grit; I think it describes me well. Grit is something that doesn’t come from easy and privileged. Grit isn’t something you can detect from a GPA or test score. Grit becomes a gift to those of us who come from hard places, but have the determination to dream so big that we find our way out. Speaking openly about mental illness, might just be the way out for someone else, so speak loudly. As a future leader and advocate, I am committed to championing mental health awareness and advocating for policies that promote mental well-being for all. When I get to college, I will pursue a degree in nursing. I want to be like my aunt, my biggest inspiration. She is a registered nurse who is pursuing her Doctorate as a Psychiatric Nurse Practitioner; one day, with the help of this scholarship, I will do the same. Thank you for supporting those of us who have struggled with our mental health. Thank you for letting me tell my story.

In a world where physical health often takes center stage, the significance of mental health can easily be overlooked. Yet, as I have come to understand through personal the importance of mental health awareness and advocacy cannot be overstated. Highschool was a challenge. I lived in a home where chaos was common. I spent many nights alone in my room, wishing that I was unalive. I have struggled with my mental health for as long as I can remember. My father, being Middle-Eastern, found it culturally unacceptable, and pretended it did not exist. I went undiagnosed and unmedicated for most of my life. I see what mental health, or a lack thereof can do to our youth. This stigma creates barriers to seeking help and support, perpetuating a cycle of silence and suffering. As someone who has grappled with mental health challenges firsthand, I understand the isolation and fear that often accompany these struggles. For years, I internalized feelings of shame and inadequacy, believing that my struggles were a sign of weakness rather than a legitimate health concern. It wasn't until I found the courage to speak out and seek support that I began to realize the transformative power of openness and vulnerability. Through my journey, I have come to appreciate the importance of mental health awareness in breaking down barriers and fostering a culture of acceptance and understanding. By openly discussing mental health and sharing our stories, we can challenge misconceptions and demonstrate that seeking help is a sign of strength, not weakness. Moreover, by normalizing conversations around mental health, we can create a supportive environment where individuals feel empowered to prioritize their well-being and seek the help they need without fear of judgment or discrimination. I learned to overcome the hard way, but that does not have to be the story for us all. After proper diagnosis, medication, and counseling, I found something within myself that I did not know was there. It was grit. You can’t wonder and wish life into submission, but you can develop the grit to take it under control. I like the word grit; I think it describes me well. Grit is something that doesn’t come from easy and privileged. Grit isn’t something you can detect from a GPA or test score. Grit becomes a gift to those of us who come from hard places, but have the determination to dream so big that we find our way out. Speaking openly about mental illness, might just be the way out for someone else, so speak loudly. As a future leader and advocate, I am committed to championing mental health awareness and advocating for policies that promote mental well-being for all. When I get to college, I will pursue a degree in nursing. I want to be like my aunt, my biggest inspiration. She is a registered nurse who is pursuing her Doctorate as a Psychiatric Nurse Practitioner; one day, with the help of this scholarship, I will do the same. Thank you for supporting those of us who have struggled with our mental health. Thank you for letting me tell my story.

I am writing today with a mix of vulnerability and resilience, laying out the stories of my life that have shaped me into the person I am today. Though it is terrifying and humbling to open up about my experiences, I believe that sharing my story is essential to fully understanding my journey and aspirations. From the outside, my life may have appeared idyllic, but beneath the surface is a story of hardship and perseverance. I am a survivor of emotional abuse, enduring a childhood marked by turmoil and self-doubt. The wounds inflicted upon me were invisible to the eye, yet they cut deep into my sense of self-worth and belonging. My deepest kept secret, that I share with you today, is the fact that I am an unaccompanied minor under the McKinney Vento Act. My homelife has been inconsistent at best and has added yet another layer of adversity to my high school experience. Growing up, I held deep inside the disparaging words of my parents and teachers, convinced of my own inadequacy. Hindered by undiagnosed learning disabilities and untreated mental health challenges, I struggled to keep pace with my peers academically, socially, and emotionally. Despite these obstacles, I refused to surrender to the limitations imposed upon me. Instead, I found strength in the concept of grit—a resilience born from adversity and nurtured by unwavering determination. I like the word grit; I think it describes me well. Grit is something that doesn’t come from ease and privilege. Grit isn’t something you can detect from a GPA or test score. Grit becomes a gift to those of us who come from hard places, but have the determination to dream so big that we find our way out. My personal journey has been filled with setbacks and challenges, yet it has also been defined by growth and resilience. I refuse to be defined by my past; instead, I choose to celebrate the strength and fight that have carried me through life's darkest moments. Where I used to be overpowered with my depression, set off course by my ADHD, confused by the ups downs of my hormone dysregulation, or hiding in my dark room from the fighting below, today, I stand before you as a testament to the power of perseverance—a dented, yet unbroken, individual who refuses to settle for anything less than I am capable of. My dreams extend beyond myself; they encompass a vision of service and compassion. My commitment to volunteerism is my proudest achievement. This year I will graduate as a Distinguished Service Graduate from Jenks High School, having completed well over the required 200 hours of service to my school and community. I am unwavering in my commitment to becoming a pediatric nurse, offering comfort and care to children and families facing trials. This has been my dream ever since I started dreaming. I want to live a life in service of others, especially children during their most uncertain times. I am deeply committed to using my experiences to connect with and uplift those who hurt, offering them the same compassion and understanding that I wished for during my darkest moments. Receiving this scholarship would allow me to attend the college of my dreams, something I am still fighting to achieve due to financial uncertainty. Receiving this scholarship would affirm my belief in the value of resilience and determination. It will also provide validation of my journey and the strength I have gained along the way. I am deeply grateful for the opportunity to share my story with you and humbly request your consideration for this scholarship.

I am writing today with a mix of vulnerability and resilience, laying out the stories of my life that have shaped me into the person I am today. Though it is terrifying and humbling to open up about my experiences, I believe that sharing my story is essential to fully understanding my journey and aspirations. From the outside, my life may have appeared idyllic, but beneath the surface is a story of hardship and perseverance. I am a survivor of emotional abuse, enduring a childhood marked by turmoil and self-doubt. The wounds inflicted upon me were invisible to the eye, yet they cut deep into my sense of self-worth and belonging. My deepest kept secret, that I share with you today, is the fact that I am an unaccompanied minor under the McKinney Vento Act. My homelife has been inconsistent at best and has added yet another layer of adversity to my high school experience. Growing up, I held deep inside the disparaging words of my parents and teachers, convinced of my own inadequacy. Hindered by undiagnosed learning disabilities and untreated mental health challenges, I struggled to keep pace with my peers academically, socially, and emotionally. Despite these obstacles, I refused to surrender to the limitations imposed upon me. Instead, I found strength in the concept of grit—a resilience born from adversity and nurtured by unwavering determination. I like the word grit; I think it describes me well. Grit is something that doesn’t come from ease and privilege. Grit isn’t something you can detect from a GPA or test score. Grit becomes a gift to those of us who come from hard places, but have the determination to dream so big that we find our way out. My personal journey has been filled with setbacks and challenges, yet it has also been defined by growth and resilience. I refuse to be defined by my past; instead, I choose to celebrate the strength and fight that have carried me through life's darkest moments. Where I used to be overpowered with my depression, set off course by my ADHD, confused by the ups downs of my hormone dysregulation, or hiding in my dark room from the fighting below, today, I stand before you as a testament to the power of perseverance—a dented, yet unbroken, individual who refuses to settle for anything less than I am capable of. My dreams extend beyond myself; they encompass a vision of service and compassion. My commitment to volunteerism is my proudest achievement. This year I will graduate as a Distinguished Service Graduate from Jenks High School, having completed well over the required 200 hours of service to my school and community. I am unwavering in my commitment to becoming a pediatric nurse, offering comfort and care to children and families facing trials. This has been my dream ever since I started dreaming. I want to live a life in service of others, especially children during their most uncertain times. I am deeply committed to using my experiences to connect with and uplift those who hurt, offering them the same compassion and understanding that I wished for during my darkest moments. Receiving this scholarship would allow me to attend the college of my dreams, something I am still fighting to achieve due to financial uncertainty. Receiving this scholarship would affirm my belief in the value of resilience and determination. It will also provide validation of my journey and the strength I have gained along the way. I am deeply grateful for the opportunity to share my story with you and humbly request your consideration for this scholarship.

I am writing today with a mix of vulnerability and resilience, laying out the stories of my life that have shaped me into the person I am today. Though it is terrifying and humbling to open up about my experiences, I believe that sharing my story is essential to fully understanding my journey and aspirations. From the outside, my life may have appeared idyllic, but beneath the surface is a story of hardship and perseverance. I am a survivor of emotional abuse, enduring a childhood marked by turmoil and self-doubt. The wounds inflicted upon me were invisible to the eye, yet they cut deep into my sense of self-worth and belonging. My deepest kept secret, that I share with you today, is the fact that I am an unaccompanied minor under the McKinney Vento Act. My homelife has been inconsistent at best and has added yet another layer of adversity to my high school experience. Growing up, I held deep inside the disparaging words of my parents and teachers, convinced of my own inadequacy. Hindered by undiagnosed learning disabilities and untreated mental health challenges, I struggled to keep pace with my peers academically, socially, and emotionally. Despite these obstacles, I refused to surrender to the limitations imposed upon me. Instead, I found strength in the concept of grit—a resilience born from adversity and nurtured by unwavering determination. I like the word grit; I think it describes me well. Grit is something that doesn’t come from ease and privilege. Grit isn’t something you can detect from a GPA or test score. Grit becomes a gift to those of us who come from hard places, but have the determination to dream so big that we find our way out. My personal journey has been filled with setbacks and challenges, yet it has also been defined by growth and resilience. I refuse to be defined by my past; instead, I choose to celebrate the strength and fight that have carried me through life's darkest moments. Where I used to be overpowered with my depression, set off course by my ADHD, confused by the ups downs of my hormone dysregulation, or hiding in my dark room from the fighting below, today, I stand before you as a testament to the power of perseverance—a dented, yet unbroken, individual who refuses to settle for anything less than I am capable of. My dreams extend beyond myself; they encompass a vision of service and compassion. My commitment to volunteerism is my proudest achievement. This year I will graduate as a Distinguished Service Graduate from Jenks High School, having completed well over the required 200 hours of service to my school and community. I am unwavering in my commitment to becoming a pediatric nurse, offering comfort and care to children and families facing trials. This has been my dream ever since I started dreaming. I want to live a life in service of others, especially children during their most uncertain times. I am deeply committed to using my experiences to connect with and uplift those who hurt, offering them the same compassion and understanding that I wished for during my darkest moments. Receiving this scholarship would allow me to attend the college of my dreams, something I am still fighting to achieve due to financial uncertainty. Receiving this scholarship would affirm my belief in the value of resilience and determination. It will also provide validation of my journey and the strength I have gained along the way. I am deeply grateful for the opportunity to share my story with you and humbly request your consideration for this scholarship.

Most of my life, people haven’t thought much of me. I’ve never been the smartest or the most athletic. I have a hard time feeling happy and my mind is always racing. I spend hours on my work, just to get nowhere. Most people assume I’m lazy and don't care; I do, in fact, care, so very much. Life’s hard; every day is hard for me. Often, I've found myself getting jealous of others because everything seems to fall into place for them and because when they smile, I can see that it is genuine; mine was often faked. I’ve felt like a disappointment, mainly to myself, but also to my teachers who "try so hard to help me" and to my parents who can't understand why I won't just "do/be better." For seventeen years of life, I wallowed in sadness over my circumstances; as a teen girl with a diagnosis of ADHD, Major Depressive Disorder, and a hormone imbalance, this was easy to do. I wondered how beautiful my life would be without my disabilities and circumstances; I wondered, until one day, I simply could not do so anymore. You see, you can’t wonder and wish life into submission, but you can develop the grit to take it under control. I like the word grit; it describes me well. Grit is something that doesn’t come from ease and privilege. Grit isn’t something detectable from a GPA or test score. Grit becomes a gift to those of us who come from hard places, but have the determination to dream so big that we find our way out. I’ve dreamt my way out of darkness; I’ve dreamt my way out of self-pity; I’ve dreamt myself so far beyond my disabilities that they no longer look like disabilities to me; they look like my greatest strengths. Through every tear and every setback, I grew stronger. I dreamt my way into college, something no one thought I could achieve. However, here I am now, accepted into my top-four universities as a pre-nursing major and I’m writing today, to share my story with you and others like me; the dreamers of the world whose challenges will never limit their potential. I’ve come so far from the days where I couldn't pull myself out of bed, where I sat in darkness without purpose or hope. Mental illness is something not everyone can understand, but for those of us who have lived life under the veil, we know how powerful each one of our breaths can be and how much courage it takes to dream. My dream, for college and beyond, is to pursue pediatric/psychiatric nursing. My dream’s to love, support, and care for children experiencing challenging situations during dark seasons; children much like me. I cannot imagine spending my life doing anything else. My heart has undoubtedly driven my desire to pursue nursing, along with my desire to tackle the academic and emotional challenges that I’ve spent the majority of my life shying away from; I can and will do it. My dream is also to share the story I once hid, in hopes that someone else who is on the verge of giving up, will read this, and decide to keep working for their greatness. For most of my life, I’ve resented my struggles; today I celebrate them. I proudly present to you a dented, yet unbroken, girl who knows how to thrive when life is hard; a girl who knows success takes work; and a girl who doesn’t give up on her dreams. Thank you for hearing my story.

Most of my life, people haven’t thought much of me. I’ve never been the smartest or the most athletic. I have a hard time feeling happy and my mind is always racing. I spend hours on my work, just to get nowhere. Most people assume I’m lazy and don't care; I do, in fact, care, so very much. Life’s hard; every day is hard for me. Often, I've found myself getting jealous of others because everything seems to fall into place for them and because when they smile, I can see that it is genuine; mine was often faked. I’ve felt like a disappointment, mainly to myself, but also to my teachers who "try so hard to help me" and to my parents who can't understand why I won't just "do/be better"...at least that is how I perceived them. It was always so hard being the girl who was so difficult to love. I often caused conflict within my family and peer grounds, without meaning to. You see, mental health impacts every aspect of your life and sometimes consumes the person you were meant to become and want to be. I spent a lot of nights alone because I hated that I upset the people I loved and it was easier to tuck myself away rather then yell, fight, and cry. I hated that I was always sad and so very angry when everyone around me was experiencing genuine joy. But from deep in the dark, sometimes you find your light. I will admit, I thought I would never find it, but I found it, shockingly within myself. I found my goodness and my softness and realized I was not incapable of being loved. The family and friends that I thought wanted nothing to do with me, were so eager to love and accept me and wanted me back just as badly as I wanted to be back. For seventeen years of life, I wallowed in sadness over my circumstances; as a teen girl with a diagnosis of ADHD, Major Depressive Disorder, and a hormone imbalance, this was easy to do. I wondered how beautiful my life would be without my disabilities and circumstances; I wondered, until one day, I simply could not do so anymore. You see, you can’t wonder and wish life into submission, but you can develop the grit to take it under control. I like the word grit; it describes me well. Grit is something that doesn’t come from ease and privilege. Grit isn’t something detectable from a GPA or test score. Grit becomes a gift to those of us who come from hard places, but have the determination to dream so big that we find our way out. I’ve dreamt my way out of darkness; I’ve dreamt my way out of self-pity; I’ve dreamt myself so far beyond my disabilities that they no longer look like disabilities to me; they look like my greatest strengths. Through every tear and every setback, I grew stronger. I dreamt my way into college, something no one thought I could achieve. However, here I am now, accepted into my top-four universities as a pre-nursing major and I’m writing today, to share my story with you and others like me; the dreamers of the world whose challenges will never limit their potential. I’ve come so far from the days where I couldn't pull myself out of bed, where I sat in darkness without purpose or hope. Mental illness is something not everyone can understand, but for those of us who have lived life under the veil, we know how powerful each one of our breaths can be and how much courage it takes to dream. My dream, for college and beyond, is to pursue pediatric nursing. My dream’s to love, support, and care for children experiencing challenging situations during dark seasons; children much like me. I cannot imagine spending my life doing anything else. My heart has undoubtedly driven my desire to pursue nursing, along with my desire to tackle the academic and emotional challenges that I’ve spent the majority of my life shying away from; I can and will do it. My dream is also to share the story I once hid, in hopes that someone else who is on the verge of giving up, will read this, and decide to keep working for their greatness. For most of my life, I’ve resented my struggles; today I celebrate them. I proudly present to you a dented, yet unbroken, girl who knows how to thrive when life is hard; a girl who knows success takes work; and a girl who doesn’t give up on her dreams. Thank you for hearing my story.

Most of my life, people haven’t thought much of me. I’ve never been the smartest or the most athletic. I’ve a hard time feeling happy and my mind is always racing. I spend hours on my work, just to get nowhere. Most people assume I’m lazy and don't care; I do, in fact, care, so very much. Life’s hard; every day is hard for me. Often, I've found myself getting jealous of others because everything seems to fall into place for them and because when they smile, I can see that it’s genuine. I’ve felt like a disappointment, mainly to myself, but also to others who can't stop wondering why I can't just do and be "better." However, there is one person who saw past what others could not, my aunt and my role model. She is a beautiful woman with a flawless heart and she lifted me up when I was at my lowest. She pushed me and pulled me when I could not will myself forward. My aunt Tori inspired me out of darkness and opened my eyes to a future I never dared to dream. For seventeen years of life, I wallowed in sadness over my circumstances; as a teen girl with a diagnosis of ADHD, Major Depressive Disorder, and a hormone imbalance, this was easy to do. I wondered how beautiful my life would be without my disabilities and circumstances; I wondered, until one day, I simply could not do so anymore. You see, you can’t wonder and wish life into submission, but you can develop the grit to take it under control; my aunt taught me that. I like the word grit; it describes me well. Grit is something that doesn’t come from ease and privilege. Grit isn’t something detectable from a GPA or test score. Grit becomes a gift to those of us who come from hard places, but have the determination to dream so big that we find our way out. I’ve dreamt my way out of darkness; I’ve dreamt my way out of self-pity; I’ve dreamt myself so far beyond my disabilities that they no longer look like disabilities to me; they look like my greatest strengths. Through every tear and every setback, I grew stronger. I dreamt my way into college, something no one thought I could achieve. However, here I am now, accepted into my top-four universities as a pre-nursing major and I’m writing today, to share my story about the impact that one compassionate woman had on a young girl. My dream, for college and beyond, is to pursue pediatric nursing, just like my Aunt Tori. My dream’s to love, support, and care for children experiencing challenging situations during dark seasons; children much like me. I cannot imagine spending my life doing anything else. My heart has undoubtedly driven my desire to pursue nursing, along with my desire to tackle the academic and emotional challenges that I’ve spent the majority of my life shying away from; I can and will do it. My dream is also to share the story I once hid, in hopes that someone else who is on the verge of giving up, will read this, and decide to keep working for their greatness. For most of my life, I’ve resented my struggles; today I celebrate them. I proudly present to you a girl who knows how to thrive when life is hard; a girl who knows success takes work; and a girl who doesn’t give up on her dreams. I'll impact the world, just like my amazing aunt, Tori, showed me I could.

Most of my life, people haven’t thought much of me. I’ve never been the smartest or the most athletic. I’ve a hard time feeling happy and my mind is always racing. I spend hours on my work, just to get nowhere. Most people assume I’m lazy and don't care; I do, in fact, care, so very much. Life’s hard; every day is hard for me. Often, I've found myself getting jealous of others because everything seems to fall into place for them and because when they smile, I can see that it’s genuine. I’ve felt like a disappointment, mainly to myself, but also to my teachers who "try so hard to help me" and to my parents who can't understand why I won't just "do better." For seventeen years of life, I wallowed in sadness over my circumstances; as a teen girl with a diagnosis of ADHD, Major Depressive Disorder, and a hormone imbalance, this was easy to do. I wondered how beautiful my life would be without my disabilities and circumstances; I wondered, until one day, I simply could not do so anymore. You see, you can’t wonder and wish life into submission, but you can develop the grit to take it under control. I like the word grit; it describes me well. Grit is something that doesn’t come from ease and privilege. Grit isn’t something detectable from a GPA or test score. Grit becomes a gift to those of us who come from hard places, but have the determination to dream so big that we find our way out. I’ve dreamt my way out of darkness; I’ve dreamt my way out of self-pity; I’ve dreamt myself so far beyond my disabilities that they no longer look like disabilities to me; they look like my greatest strengths. Through every tear and every setback, I grew stronger. I dreamt my way into college, something no one thought I could achieve. However, here I am now, accepted into my top-four universities as a pre-nursing major and I’m writing today, to share my story with you and others like me; the dreamers of the world whose challenges will never limit their potential. My dream, for college and beyond, is to pursue pediatric nursing. My dream’s to love, support, and care for children experiencing challenging situations during dark seasons; children much like me. I cannot imagine spending my life doing anything else. My heart has undoubtedly driven my desire to pursue nursing, along with my desire to tackle the academic and emotional challenges that I’ve spent the majority of my life shying away from; I can and will do it. My dream is also to share the story I once hid, in hopes that someone else who is on the verge of giving up, will read this, and decide to keep working for their greatness. I am well-prepared for the rigor ahead. I know that the science-rich course load that awaits me will be difficult and that there are far easier options, but none of them are for me. I'm eager to learn about anatomy, chemistry, biology, and physiology. I'm ready to learn how my mind and body works. I'm embracing my future and the challenges that come with it. For most of my life, I’ve resented my struggles; today I celebrate them. I proudly present to you a dented, yet unbroken, girl who knows how to thrive when life is hard; a girl who knows success takes work; and a girl who doesn’t give up on her dreams. I want to impact the world, and I will.

Most of my life, people haven’t thought much of me. I’ve never been the smartest or the most athletic. I have a hard time feeling happy and my mind is always racing. I spend hours on my work, just to get nowhere. Most people assume I’m lazy and don't care; I do, in fact, care, so very much. Life’s hard; every day is hard for me. Often, I've found myself getting jealous of others because everything seems to fall into place for them and because when they smile, I can see that it is genuine. I’ve felt like a disappointment, mainly to myself, but also to my teachers who "try so hard to help me" and to my parents who can't understand why I won't just "do better." For seventeen years of life, I wallowed in sadness over my circumstances; as a teen girl with a diagnosis of ADHD, Major Depressive Disorder, and a hormone imbalance, this was easy to do. I wondered how beautiful my life would be without my disabilities and circumstances; I wondered, until one day, I simply could not do so anymore. You see, you can’t wonder and wish life into submission, but you can develop the grit to take it under control. I like the word grit; it describes me well. Grit is something that doesn’t come from ease and privilege. Grit isn’t something detectable from a GPA or test score. Grit becomes a gift to those of us who come from hard places, but have the determination to dream so big that we find our way out. I’ve dreamt my way out of darkness; I’ve dreamt my way out of self-pity; I’ve dreamt myself so far beyond my disabilities that they no longer look like disabilities to me; they look like my greatest strengths. Through every tear and every setback, I grew stronger. I dreamt my way into college, something no one thought I could achieve. However, here I am now, accepted into my top-four universities as a pre-nursing major and I’m writing today, to share my story with you and others like me; the dreamers of the world whose challenges will never limit their potential. As an Iranian-American women, I have also been told that my key to success it to marry well. I do not like this narrative and it took me some time to mentally re-write it. That looks trump brains and therefore I should become quiet, pretty and appealing. However, my dreams are bigger than this and I am destined for more. My dream, for college and beyond, is to pursue pediatric nursing. My dream’s to love, support, and care for children experiencing challenging situations during dark seasons; children much like me. I cannot imagine spending my life doing anything else. My heart has undoubtedly driven my desire to pursue nursing, along with my desire to tackle the academic and emotional challenges that I’ve spent the majority of my life shying away from; I can and will do it. For most of my life, I’ve resented my struggles; today I celebrate them. I proudly present to you a dented, yet unbroken, girl who knows how to thrive when life is hard; a girl who knows success takes work; and a girl who doesn’t give up on her dreams. This scholarship will make college possible for me, as I am on my own to finance my degree. I am here at home on New Year's Eve, applying for your scholarship, because I truly and deeply value my future. Thank you for hearing my story and I am honored to be considered.

Most of my life, people haven’t thought much of me. I’ve never been the smartest or the most athletic. I have a hard time feeling happy and my mind is always racing. I spend hours on my work, just to get nowhere. Most people assume I’m lazy and don't care; I do, in fact, care, so very much. Life’s hard; every day is hard for me. Often, I've found myself getting jealous of others because everything seems to fall into place for them and because when they smile, I can see that it is genuine; mine was often faked. I’ve felt like a disappointment, mainly to myself, but also to my teachers who "try so hard to help me" and to my parents who can't understand why I won't just "do/be better." For seventeen years of life, I wallowed in sadness over my circumstances; as a teen girl with a diagnosis of ADHD, Major Depressive Disorder, and a hormone imbalance, this was easy to do. I wondered how beautiful my life would be without my disabilities and circumstances; I wondered, until one day, I simply could not do so anymore. You see, you can’t wonder and wish life into submission, but you can develop the grit to take it under control. I like the word grit; it describes me well. Grit is something that doesn’t come from ease and privilege. Grit isn’t something detectable from a GPA or test score. Grit becomes a gift to those of us who come from hard places, but have the determination to dream so big that we find our way out. I’ve dreamt my way out of darkness; I’ve dreamt my way out of self-pity; I’ve dreamt myself so far beyond my disabilities that they no longer look like disabilities to me; they look like my greatest strengths. Through every tear and every setback, I grew stronger. I dreamt my way into college, something no one thought I could achieve. However, here I am now, accepted into my top-four universities as a pre-nursing major and I’m writing today, to share my story with you and others like me; the dreamers of the world whose challenges will never limit their potential. I’ve come so far from the days where I couldn't pull myself out of bed, where I sat in darkness without purpose or hope. Mental illness is something not everyone can understand, but for those of us who have lived life under the veil, we know how powerful each one of our breaths can be and how much courage it takes to dream. My dream, for college and beyond, is to pursue pediatric nursing. My dream’s to love, support, and care for children experiencing challenging situations during dark seasons; children much like me. I cannot imagine spending my life doing anything else. My heart has undoubtedly driven my desire to pursue nursing, along with my desire to tackle the academic and emotional challenges that I’ve spent the majority of my life shying away from; I can and will do it. My dream is also to share the story I once hid, in hopes that someone else who is on the verge of giving up, will read this, and decide to keep working for their greatness. For most of my life, I’ve resented my struggles; today I celebrate them. I proudly present to you a dented, yet unbroken, girl who knows how to thrive when life is hard; a girl who knows success takes work; and a girl who doesn’t give up on her dreams. Thank you for hearing my story.

Most of my life, people haven’t thought much of me. I’ve never been the smartest or the most athletic. I have a hard time feeling happy and my mind is always racing. I spend hours on my work, just to get nowhere. Most people assume I’m lazy and don't care; I do, in fact, care, so very much. Life’s hard; every day is hard for me. Often, I've found myself getting jealous of others because everything seems to fall into place for them and because when they smile, I can see that it is genuine. I’ve felt like a disappointment, mainly to myself, but also to my teachers who "try so hard to help me" and to my parents who can't understand why I won't just "do better." For seventeen years of life, I wallowed in sadness over my circumstances; as a teen girl with a diagnosis of ADHD, Major Depressive Disorder, and a hormone imbalance, this was easy to do. I wondered how beautiful my life would be without my disabilities and circumstances; I wondered, until one day, I simply could not do so anymore. You see, you can’t wonder and wish life into submission, but you can develop the grit to take it under control. I like the word grit; it describes me well. Grit is something that doesn’t come from ease and privilege. Grit isn’t something detectable from a GPA or test score. Grit becomes a gift to those of us who come from hard places, but have the determination to dream so big that we find our way out. I’ve dreamt my way out of darkness; I’ve dreamt my way out of self-pity; I’ve dreamt myself so far beyond my disabilities that they no longer look like disabilities to me; they look like my greatest strengths. Through every tear and every setback, I grew stronger. I dreamt my way into college, something no one thought I could achieve. However, here I am now, accepted into my top-four universities as a pre-nursing major and I’m writing today, to share my story with you and others like me; the dreamers of the world whose challenges will never limit their potential. My dream, for college and beyond, is to pursue pediatric nursing. My dream’s to love, support, and care for children experiencing challenging situations during dark seasons; children much like me. I cannot imagine spending my life doing anything else. My heart has undoubtedly driven my desire to pursue nursing, along with my desire to tackle the academic and emotional challenges that I’ve spent the majority of my life shying away from; I can and will do it. My dream is also to share the story I once hid, in hopes that someone else who is on the verge of giving up, will read this, and decide to keep working for their greatness. I am well-prepared for the rigor ahead. I know that the science-rich course load that awaits me will be difficult and that there are far easier options, but none of them are for me. I'm eager to learn about anatomy, chemistry, biology, and physiology. I'm ready to learn how my mind and body works. I embrace my future and the challenges that come with it. For most of my life, I’ve resented my struggles; today I celebrate them. I proudly present to you a dented, yet unbroken, girl who knows how to thrive when life is hard; a girl who knows success takes work; and a girl who doesn’t give up on her dreams. I want to impact the world, and I will as a nurse/superhero.

Most of my life, people haven’t thought much of me. I’ve never been the smartest or the most athletic. I have a hard time feeling happy and my mind is always racing. I spend hours on my work, just to get nowhere. Most people assume I’m lazy and don't care; I do, in fact, care, so very much. Life’s hard; every day is hard for me. Often, I've found myself getting jealous of others because everything seems to fall into place for them and because when they smile, I can see that it is genuine. I’ve felt like a disappointment, mainly to myself, but also to my teachers who "try so hard to help me" and to my parents who can't understand why I won't just "do better." For seventeen years of life, I wallowed in sadness over my circumstances; as a teen girl with a diagnosis of ADHD, Major Depressive Disorder, and a hormone imbalance, this was easy to do. I wondered how beautiful my life would be without my disabilities and circumstances; I wondered, until one day, I simply could not do so anymore. You see, you can’t wonder and wish life into submission, but you can develop the grit to take it under control. I like the word grit; it describes me well. Grit is something that doesn’t come from ease and privilege. Grit isn’t something detectable from a GPA or test score. Grit becomes a gift to those of us who come from hard places, but have the determination to dream so big that we find our way out. I’ve dreamt my way out of darkness; I’ve dreamt my way out of self-pity; I’ve dreamt myself so far beyond my disabilities that they no longer look like disabilities to me; they look like my greatest strengths. Through every tear and every setback, I grew stronger. I dreamt my way into college, something no one thought I could achieve. However, here I am now, accepted into my top-four universities as a pre-nursing major and I’m writing today, to share my story with you and others like me; the dreamers of the world whose challenges will never limit their potential. My dream, for college and beyond, is to pursue pediatric nursing. My dream’s to love, support, and care for children experiencing challenging situations during dark seasons; children much like me. I cannot imagine spending my life doing anything else. My heart has undoubtedly driven my desire to pursue nursing, along with my desire to tackle the academic and emotional challenges that I’ve spent the majority of my life shying away from; I can and will do it. My dream is also to share the story I once hid, in hopes that someone else who is on the verge of giving up, will read this, and decide to keep working for their greatness. I am well-prepared for the rigor ahead. I know that the science-rich course load that awaits me will be difficult and that there are far easier options, but none of them are for me. I'm eager to learn about anatomy, chemistry, biology, and physiology. I'm ready to learn how my mind and body works. I embrace my future and the challenges that come with it. For most of my life, I’ve resented my struggles; today I celebrate them. I proudly present to you a dented, yet unbroken, girl who knows how to thrive when life is hard; a girl who knows success takes work; and a girl who doesn’t give up on her dreams. I want to impact the world, and I will as a nurse/superhero.

Most of my life, people haven’t thought much of me. I’ve never been the smartest or the most athletic. I have a hard time feeling happy and my mind is always racing. I spend hours on my work, just to get nowhere. Most people assume I’m lazy and don't care; I do, in fact, care, so very much. Life’s hard; every day is hard for me. Often, I've found myself getting jealous of others because everything seems to fall into place for them and because when they smile, I can see that it is genuine. I’ve felt like a disappointment, mainly to myself, but also to my teachers who "try so hard to help me" and to my parents who can't understand why I won't just "do better." For seventeen years of life, I wallowed in sadness over my circumstances; as a teen girl with a diagnosis of ADHD, Major Depressive Disorder, and a hormone imbalance, this was easy to do. I wondered how beautiful my life would be without my disabilities and circumstances; I wondered, until one day, I simply could not do so anymore. You see, you can’t wonder and wish life into submission, but you can develop the grit to take it under control. I like the word grit; it describes me well. Grit is something that doesn’t come from ease and privilege. Grit isn’t something detectable from a GPA or test score. Grit becomes a gift to those of us who come from hard places, but have the determination to dream so big that we find our way out. I’ve dreamt my way out of darkness; I’ve dreamt my way out of self-pity; I’ve dreamt myself so far beyond my disabilities that they no longer look like disabilities to me; they look like my greatest strengths. Through every tear and every setback, I grew stronger. I dreamt my way into college, something no one thought I could achieve. However, here I am now, accepted into my top-four universities as a pre-nursing major and I’m writing today, to share my story with you and others like me; the dreamers of the world whose challenges will never limit their potential. My dream, for college and beyond, is to pursue pediatric nursing. My dream’s to love, support, and care for children experiencing challenging situations during dark seasons; children much like me. I cannot imagine spending my life doing anything else. My heart has undoubtedly driven my desire to pursue nursing, along with my desire to tackle the academic and emotional challenges that I’ve spent the majority of my life shying away from; I can and will do it. My dream is also to share the story I once hid, in hopes that someone else who is on the verge of giving up, will read this, and decide to keep working for their greatness. I am well-prepared for the rigor ahead. I know that the science-rich course load that awaits me will be difficult and that there are far easier options, but none of them are for me. I'm eager to learn about anatomy, chemistry, biology, and physiology. I'm ready to learn how my mind and body works. I embrace my future and the challenges that come with it. For most of my life, I’ve resented my struggles; today I celebrate them. I proudly present to you a dented, yet unbroken, girl who knows how to thrive when life is hard; a girl who knows success takes work; and a girl who doesn’t give up on her dreams. I want to impact the world, and I will as a nurse/superhero.

Most of my life, people haven’t thought much of me. I’ve never been the smartest or the most athletic. I have a hard time feeling happy and my mind is always racing. I spend hours on my work, just to get nowhere. Most people assume I’m lazy and don't care; I do, in fact, care, so very much. Life’s hard; every day is hard for me. Often, I've found myself getting jealous of others because everything seems to fall into place for them and because when they smile, I can see that it is genuine. I’ve felt like a disappointment, mainly to myself, but also to my teachers who "try so hard to help me" and to my parents who can't understand why I won't just "do better." For seventeen years of life, I wallowed in sadness over my circumstances; as a teen girl with a diagnosis of ADHD, Major Depressive Disorder, and a hormone imbalance, this was easy to do. I wondered how beautiful my life would be without my disabilities and circumstances; I wondered, until one day, I simply could not do so anymore. You see, you can’t wonder and wish life into submission, but you can develop the grit to take it under control. I like the word grit; it describes me well. Grit is something that doesn’t come from ease and privilege. Grit isn’t something detectable from a GPA or test score. Grit becomes a gift to those of us who come from hard places, but have the determination to dream so big that we find our way out. I’ve dreamt my way out of darkness; I’ve dreamt my way out of self-pity; I’ve dreamt myself so far beyond my disabilities that they no longer look like disabilities to me; they look like my greatest strengths. Through every tear and every setback, I grew stronger. I dreamt my way into college, something no one thought I could achieve. However, here I am now, accepted into my top-four universities as a pre-nursing major and I’m writing today, to share my story with you and others like me; the dreamers of the world whose challenges will never limit their potential. As an Iranian-American women, I have also been told that my key to success it to marry well. I do not like this narrative and it took me some time to mentally re-write it. That looks trump brains and therefore I should become quiet, pretty and appealing. However, my dreams are bigger than this and I am destined for more. My dream, for college and beyond, is to pursue pediatric nursing. My dream’s to love, support, and care for children experiencing challenging situations during dark seasons; children much like me. I cannot imagine spending my life doing anything else. My heart has undoubtedly driven my desire to pursue nursing, along with my desire to tackle the academic and emotional challenges that I’ve spent the majority of my life shying away from; I can and will do it. My dream is also to share the story I once hid, in hopes that someone else who is on the verge of giving up, will read this, and decide to keep working for their greatness. For most of my life, I’ve resented my struggles; today I celebrate them. I proudly present to you a dented, yet unbroken, girl who knows how to thrive when life is hard; a girl who knows success takes work; and a girl who doesn’t give up on her dreams. I want to impact the world, and I will as a nurse/superhero.

Most of my life, people haven’t thought much of me. I’ve never been the smartest or the most athletic. I have a hard time feeling happy and my mind is always racing. I spend hours on my work, just to get nowhere. Most people assume I’m lazy and don't care; I do, in fact, care, so very much. Life’s hard; every day is hard for me. Often, I've found myself getting jealous of others because everything seems to fall into place for them and because when they smile, I can see that it is genuine. I’ve felt like a disappointment, mainly to myself, but also to my teachers who "try so hard to help me" and to my parents who can't understand why I won't just "do better." For seventeen years of life, I wallowed in sadness over my circumstances; as a teen girl with a diagnosis of ADHD, Major Depressive Disorder, and a hormone imbalance, this was easy to do. I wondered how beautiful my life would be without my disabilities and circumstances; I wondered, until one day, I simply could not do so anymore. You see, you can’t wonder and wish life into submission, but you can develop the grit to take it under control. I like the word grit; it describes me well. Grit is something that doesn’t come from ease and privilege. Grit isn’t something detectable from a GPA or test score. Grit becomes a gift to those of us who come from hard places, but have the determination to dream so big that we find our way out. I’ve dreamt my way out of darkness; I’ve dreamt my way out of self-pity; I’ve dreamt myself so far beyond my disabilities that they no longer look like disabilities to me; they look like my greatest strengths. Through every tear and every setback, I grew stronger. I dreamt my way into college, something no one thought I could achieve. However, here I am now, accepted into my top-four universities as a pre-nursing major and I’m writing today, to share my story with you and others like me; the dreamers of the world whose challenges will never limit their potential. As an Iranian-American women, I have also been told that my key to success it to marry well. I do not like this narrative and it took me some time to mentally re-write it. That looks trump brains and therefore I should become quiet, pretty and appealing. However, my dreams are bigger than this and I am destined for more. My dream, for college and beyond, is to pursue pediatric nursing. My dream’s to love, support, and care for children experiencing challenging situations during dark seasons; children much like me. I cannot imagine spending my life doing anything else. My heart has undoubtedly driven my desire to pursue nursing, along with my desire to tackle the academic and emotional challenges that I’ve spent the majority of my life shying away from; I can and will do it. My dream is also to share the story I once hid, in hopes that someone else who is on the verge of giving up, will read this, and decide to keep working for their greatness. For most of my life, I’ve resented my struggles; today I celebrate them. I proudly present to you a dented, yet unbroken, girl who knows how to thrive when life is hard; a girl who knows success takes work; and a girl who doesn’t give up on her dreams. I want to impact the world, and I will as a nurse/superhero.

Most of my life, people haven’t thought much of me. I’ve never been the smartest or the most athletic. I have a hard time feeling happy and my mind is always racing. I spend hours on my work, just to get nowhere. Most people assume I’m lazy and don't care; I do, in fact, care, so very much. Life’s hard; every day is hard for me. Often, I've found myself getting jealous of others because everything seems to fall into place for them and because when they smile, I can see that it is genuine. I’ve felt like a disappointment, mainly to myself, but also to my teachers who "try so hard to help me" and to my parents who can't understand why I won't just "do better." For as long as I can remember, I thought that medication and an IEP would fix all the struggles in my world. Yes, those things did help, but what I realized, was that I became strong and resilient without them, that my disabilities did not define me, but were simply a part of me and I could take control of my mental health. For seventeen years of life, I wallowed in sadness over my circumstances; as a teen girl with a diagnosis of ADHD, Major Depressive Disorder, and a hormone imbalance, this was easy to do. I wondered how beautiful my life would be without my disabilities and circumstances; I wondered, until one day, I simply could not do so anymore. You see, you can’t wonder and wish life into submission, but you can develop the grit to take it under control. I like the word grit; it describes me well. Grit is something that doesn’t come from ease and privilege. Grit isn’t something detectable from a GPA or test score. Grit becomes a gift to those of us who come from hard places, but have the determination to dream so big that we find our way out. I’ve dreamt my way out of darkness; I’ve dreamt my way out of self-pity; I’ve dreamt myself so far beyond my disabilities that they no longer look like disabilities to me; they look like my greatest strengths. Through every tear and every setback, I grew stronger. I dreamt my way into college, something no one thought I could achieve. However, here I am now, accepted into my top-four universities as a pre-nursing major and I’m writing today, to share my story with you and others like me; the dreamers of the world whose challenges will never limit their potential. My dream, for college and beyond, is to pursue pediatric nursing. My dream’s to love, support, and care for children experiencing challenging situations during dark seasons; children much like me. I cannot imagine spending my life doing anything else. My heart has undoubtedly driven my desire to pursue nursing, along with my desire to tackle the academic and emotional challenges that I’ve spent the majority of my life shying away from; I can and will do it. My dream is also to share the story I once hid, in hopes that someone else who is on the verge of giving up, will read this, and decide to keep working for their greatness. For most of my life, I’ve resented my struggles; today I celebrate them. I proudly present to you a dented, yet unbroken, girl who knows how to thrive when life is hard; a girl who knows success takes work; and a girl who doesn’t give up on her dreams. I want to impact the world, and I will.

Most of my life, people haven’t thought much of me. I’ve never been the smartest or the most athletic. I have a hard time feeling happy and my mind is always racing. I spend hours on my work, just to get nowhere. Most people assume I’m lazy and don't care; I do, in fact, care, so very much. Life’s hard; every day is hard for me. Often, I've found myself getting jealous of others because everything seems to fall into place for them and because when they smile, I can see that it is genuine. I’ve felt like a disappointment, mainly to myself, but also to my teachers who "try so hard to help me" and to my parents who can't understand why I won't just "do better." For as long as I can remember, I thought that medication and an IEP would fix all the struggles in my world. Yes, those things did help, but what I realized, was that I became strong and resilient without them. That my disabilities did not define me, but were simply a part of me. For seventeen years of life, I wallowed in sadness over my circumstances; as a teen girl with a diagnosis of ADHD, Major Depressive Disorder, and a hormone imbalance, this was easy to do. I wondered how beautiful my life would be without my disabilities and circumstances; I wondered, until one day, I simply could not do so anymore. You see, you can’t wonder and wish life into submission, but you can develop the grit to take it under control. I like the word grit; it describes me well. Grit is something that doesn’t come from ease and privilege. Grit isn’t something detectable from a GPA or test score. Grit becomes a gift to those of us who come from hard places, but have the determination to dream so big that we find our way out. I’ve dreamt my way out of darkness; I’ve dreamt my way out of self-pity; I’ve dreamt myself so far beyond my disabilities that they no longer look like disabilities to me; they look like my greatest strengths. Through every tear and every setback, I grew stronger. I dreamt my way into college, something no one thought I could achieve. However, here I am now, accepted into my top-four universities as a pre-nursing major and I’m writing today, to share my story with you and others like me; the dreamers of the world whose challenges will never limit their potential. My dream, for college and beyond, is to pursue pediatric nursing. My dream’s to love, support, and care for children experiencing challenging situations during dark seasons; children much like me. I cannot imagine spending my life doing anything else. My heart has undoubtedly driven my desire to pursue nursing, along with my desire to tackle the academic and emotional challenges that I’ve spent the majority of my life shying away from; I can and will do it. My dream is also to share the story I once hid, in hopes that someone else who is on the verge of giving up, will read this, and decide to keep working for their greatness. For most of my life, I’ve resented my struggles; today I celebrate them. I proudly present to you a dented, yet unbroken, girl who knows how to thrive when life is hard; a girl who knows success takes work; and a girl who doesn’t give up on her dreams. I want to impact the world, and I will.

For most of my life, people have not thought much of me. I have never been the smartest or the most athletic. I have a hard time feeling happy and my mind is always racing. I spend hours on my work, just to get nowhere. Most people assume I am lazy and I just don't care; I do, in fact, care, so very much. Life is hard; every day is hard for me. Often, I've found myself getting jealous of others because everything seems to fall into place for them and because when they smile, I can see that it is genuine. I, on the other hand, have learned to fake mine. I have felt like a disappointment, mainly to myself, but also to my teachers who "try so hard to help me" and to my parents who can't understand why I won't just "do better." For seventeen years of my life, I wallowed in sadness over my circumstances; as a teen girl with a diagnosis of ADHD, Major Depressive Disorder, and a hormone imbalance, this was easy to do. I wondered how beautiful my life would be without my disabilities. I wondered and wondered; for years I wondered. I wondered, until one day, I simply could not do so anymore. You see, you can’t wonder and wish life into submission, but you can develop the grit to take it under control. I like the word grit; it describes me well. Grit is something that doesn’t come from ease and privilege. Grit isn’t something you can detect from a GPA or test score. Grit becomes a gift to those of us who come from hard places, but have the determination to dream so big that we find our way out. I have dreamt my way out of darkness; I have dreamt my way out of self-pity; I have dreamt myself so far beyond my disabilities that they no longer look like disabilities to me; they look like my greatest strengths because, through every tear and every setback, I grew stronger. I dreamt my way into college, something no one thought I could achieve. However, here I am now, accepted into my top four universities as a pre-nursing major and I am writing today to share my story with you and to others like me; the dreamers of the world whose challenges will never limit their potential, rather push them towards their passions. You have asked for me to discuss my passion and share my dream. My dream, for college and beyond, is to pursue pediatric nursing. My dream is to love, support, and care for children experiencing challenging situations during their darkest seasons; children much like me. I cannot imagine spending my life doing anything other than helping others. My heart has undoubtedly driven my desire to pursue nursing, along with my desire to tackle the academic and emotional challenges that I spent the majority of my life shying away from; I can and will do it! I will not let my fears sway my pursuit of my passion. I will not let my fears of an academically challenging course load, deter me from trying. I will not let my family members and peers who keep asking me "Science, is that really your thing?" or "Do you think you can handle it?" make me feel less than capable. I am so much more than people think and I can and will do great things with my life. Why nursing, you have asked ask? Nurses are magical. Nurses are tough, quick-thinking, and resilient. Nurses are smart and capable, just like me. However, nurses are also gentle-hearted, hold hands, and wipe away tears. They put others before themselves and care for people deeply, just like me. They have one of the hardest, yet most rewarding jobs in the world. Why am I passionate about pursuing a degree in nursing...because one day when I am in the right place, at the right time, I will be in the position to save someone's life. This degree will make that moment possible. For most of my life, I’ve resented my struggles; today I celebrate them. I proudly present to you a dented, yet unbroken, girl who knows how to thrive when life is hard; a girl who knows success takes work; and a girl who doesn’t give up on her dreams, passions, or potential. I want to impact the world, and I will, as a nurse/superhero.

For most of my life, people have not thought much of me. I have never been the smartest or the most athletic. I have a hard time feeling happy and my mind is always racing. I spend hours on my work, just to get nowhere. Most people assume I am lazy and I just don't care; I do, in fact, care, so very much. Life is hard; every day is hard for me. Often, I've found myself getting jealous of others because everything seems to fall into place for them and because when they smile, I can see that it is genuine. I, on the other hand, have learned to fake mine. I have felt like a disappointment, mainly to myself, but also to my teachers who "try so hard to help me" and to my parents who can't understand why I won't just "do better." For seventeen years of my life, I wallowed in sadness over my circumstances; as a teen girl with a diagnosis of ADHD, Major Depressive Disorder, and a hormone imbalance, this was easy to do. I wondered how beautiful my life would be without my disabilities. I wondered and wondered; for years I wondered. I wondered, until one day, I simply could not do so anymore. You see, you can’t wonder and wish life into submission, but you can develop the grit to take it under control. I like the word grit; it describes me well. Grit is something that doesn’t come from ease and privilege. Grit isn’t something you can detect from a GPA or test score. Grit becomes a gift to those of us who come from hard places, but have the determination to dream so big that we find our way out. I have dreamt my way out of darkness; I have dreamt my way out of self-pity; I have dreamt myself so far beyond my disabilities that they no longer look like disabilities to me; they look like my greatest strengths because, through every tear and every setback, I grew stronger. I dreamt my way into college, something no one thought I could achieve. However, here I am now, accepted into my top two universities as a pre-nursing major and I am writing today, to share my story with you and to others like me; the dreamers of the world whose challenges will never limit their potential. My dream, for college and beyond, is to pursue pediatric nursing. My dream is to love, support, and care for children experiencing challenging situations during their darkest seasons; children much like me. I cannot imagine spending my life doing anything other than helping others. My heart has undoubtedly driven my desire to pursue nursing, along with my desire to tackle the academic and emotional challenges that I spent the majority of my life shying away from; I can and will do it. For most of my life, I’ve resented my struggles; today I celebrate them. I proudly present to you a dented, yet unbroken, girl who knows how to thrive when life is hard; a girl who knows success takes work; and a girl who doesn’t give up on her dreams. I want to impact the world, and I will, as a nurse/superhero. This scholarship will help make my college and career dreams possible; I cannot do it alone. My family's financial situation will not allow them to greatly contribute to my education. I am leaning on the generosity of the William A. Stuart Dream Scholarship donors, in hopes that you all see the potential I possess.

For most of my life, people have not thought much of me. I have never been the smartest or the most athletic. I have a hard time feeling happy and my mind is always racing. I spend hours on my work, just to get nowhere. Most people assume I am lazy and I just don't care; I do, in fact, care, so very much. Life is hard; every day is hard for me. Often, I've found myself getting jealous of others because everything seems to fall into place for them and because when they smile, I can see that it is genuine. I, on the other hand, have learned to fake mine. I have felt like a disappointment, mainly to myself, but also to my teachers who "try so hard to help me" and to my parents who can't understand why I won't just "do better." For seventeen years of my life, I wallowed in sadness over my circumstances; as a teen girl with a diagnosis of ADHD, Major Depressive Disorder, and a hormone imbalance, this was easy to do. I wondered how beautiful my life would be without my disabilities. I wondered and wondered; for years I wondered. I wondered, until one day, I simply could not do so anymore. You see, you can’t wonder and wish life into submission, but you can develop the grit to take it under control. I like the word grit; it describes me well. Grit is something that doesn’t come from ease and privilege. Grit isn’t something you can detect from a GPA or test score. Grit becomes a gift to those of us who come from hard places, but have the determination to dream so big that we find our way out. I have dreamt my way out of darkness; I have dreamt my way out of self-pity; I have dreamt myself so far beyond my disabilities that they no longer look like disabilities to me; they look like my greatest strengths because, through every tear and every setback, I grew stronger. I dreamt my way into college, something no one thought I could achieve. However, here I am now, accepted into my top two universities as a pre-nursing major and I am writing today, to share my story with you and to others like me; the dreamers of the world whose challenges will never limit their potential. My dream, for college and beyond, is to pursue pediatric nursing. My dream is to love, support, and care for children experiencing challenging situations during their darkest seasons; children much like me. I cannot imagine spending my life doing anything other than helping others. My heart has undoubtedly driven my desire to pursue nursing, along with my desire to tackle the academic and emotional challenges that I spent the majority of my life shying away from; I can and will do it! Nurses are magical. Nurses are tough, quick-thinking, and resilient. However, nurses are also gentle-hearted, hold hands, and wipe away tears. They have one of the hardest, yet most rewarding jobs in the world, but I have learned that I can accomplish hard things. For most of my life, I’ve resented my struggles; today I celebrate them. I proudly present to you a dented, yet unbroken, girl who knows how to thrive when life is hard; a girl who knows success takes work; and a girl who doesn’t give up on her dreams. I want to impact the world, and I will, as a nurse/superhero.

For most of my life, people have not thought much of me. I have never been the smartest or the most athletic. I have a hard time feeling happy and my mind is always racing. I spend hours on my work, just to get nowhere. Most people assume I am lazy and I just don't care; I do, in fact, care, so very much. Life is hard; every day is hard for me. Often, I've found myself getting jealous of others because everything seems to fall into place for them and because when they smile, I can see that it is genuine. I, on the other hand, have learned to fake mine. I have felt like a disappointment, mainly to myself, but also to my teachers who "try so hard to help me" and to my parents who can't understand why I won't just "do better." For seventeen years of my life, I wallowed in sadness over my circumstances; as a teen girl with a diagnosis of ADHD, Major Depressive Disorder, and a hormone imbalance, this was easy to do. I wondered how beautiful my life would be without my disabilities. I wondered and wondered; for years I wondered. I wondered, until one day, I simply could not do so anymore. You see, you can’t wonder and wish life into submission, but you can develop the grit to take it under control. I like the word grit; it describes me well. Grit is something that doesn’t come from ease and privilege. Grit isn’t something you can detect from a GPA or test score. Grit becomes a gift to those of us who come from hard places, but have the determination to dream so big that we find our way out. I have dreamt my way out of darkness; I have dreamt my way out of self-pity; I have dreamt myself so far beyond my disabilities that they no longer look like disabilities to me; they look like my greatest strengths because, through every tear and every setback, I grew stronger. I dreamt my way into college, something no one thought I could achieve. However, here I am now, accepted into my top two universities as a pre-nursing major and I am writing today, to share my story with you and to others like me; the dreamers of the world whose challenges will never limit their potential. My dream, for college and beyond, is to pursue pediatric nursing. My dream is to love, support, and care for children experiencing challenging situations during their darkest seasons; children much like me. I cannot imagine spending my life doing anything other than helping others. My heart has undoubtedly driven my desire to pursue nursing, along with my desire to tackle the academic and emotional challenges that I spent the majority of my life shying away from; I can and will do it! Nurses are magical. Nurses are tough, quick-thinking, and resilient. However, nurses are also gentle-hearted, hold hands, and wipe away tears. They have one of the hardest, yet most rewarding jobs in the world, but I have learned that I can accomplish hard things. For most of my life, I’ve resented my struggles; today I celebrate them. I proudly present to you a dented, yet unbroken, girl who knows how to thrive when life is hard; a girl who knows success takes work; and a girl who doesn’t give up on her dreams. I want to impact the world, and I will, as a nurse/superhero.

For most of my life, people have not thought much of me. I have never been the smartest or the most athletic. I have a hard time feeling happy and my mind is always racing. I spend hours on my work, just to get nowhere. Most people assume I am lazy and I just don't care; I do, in fact, care, so very much. Life is hard; every day is hard for me. Often, I've found myself getting jealous of others because everything seems to fall into place for them and because when they smile, I can see that it is genuine. I, on the other hand, have learned to fake mine. I have felt like a disappointment, mainly to myself, but also to my teachers who "try so hard to help me" and to my parents who can't understand why I won't just "do better." For seventeen years of my life, I wallowed in sadness over my circumstances; as a teen girl with a diagnosis of ADHD, Major Depressive Disorder, and a hormone imbalance, this was easy to do. I wondered how beautiful my life would be without my disabilities. I wondered and wondered; for years I wondered. I wondered, until one day, I simply could not do so anymore. You see, you can’t wonder and wish life into submission, but you can develop the grit to take it under control. I like the word grit; it describes me well. Grit is something that doesn’t come from ease and privilege. Grit isn’t something you can detect from a GPA or test score. Grit becomes a gift to those of us who come from hard places, but have the determination to dream so big that we find our way out. I have dreamt my way out of darkness; I have dreamt my way out of self-pity; I have dreamt myself so far beyond my disabilities that they no longer look like disabilities to me; they look like my greatest strengths because, through every tear and every setback, I grew stronger. I dreamt my way into college, something no one thought I could achieve. However, here I am now, accepted into my top two universities. I am writing today, to share my story with you and to others like me; the dreamers of the world whose challenges will never limit their potential. My dream, for college and beyond, is to pursue pediatric nursing. My dream is to love, support, and care for children experiencing challenging situations during their darkest seasons; children much like me. I cannot imagine spending my life doing anything other than helping others. My heart has undoubtedly driven my desire to pursue nursing, along with my desire to tackle the academic and emotional challenges that I spent the majority of my life shying away from; I can and will do it! For most of my life, I’ve resented my struggles; today I celebrate them. I proudly present to you a dented, yet unbroken, girl who knows how to thrive when life is hard; a girl who knows success takes work; and a girl who doesn’t give up on her dreams. I want to impact the world, and I will.

For most of my life, people have not thought much of me. I have never been the smartest or the most athletic. I have a hard time feeling happy and my mind is always racing. I spend hours on my work, just to get nowhere. Most people assume I am lazy and I just don't care; I do, in fact, care, so very much. Life is hard; every day is hard for me. Often, I've found myself getting jealous of others because everything seems to fall into place for them and because when they smile, I can see that it is genuine. I, on the other hand, have learned to fake mine. I have felt like a disappointment, mainly to myself, but also to my teachers who "try so hard to help me" and to my parents who can't understand why I won't just "do better." For seventeen years of my life, I wallowed in sadness over my circumstances; as a teen girl with a diagnosis of ADHD, Major Depressive Disorder, and a hormone imbalance, this was easy to do. I wondered how beautiful my life would be without my disabilities. I wondered and wondered; for years I wondered. I wondered, until one day, I simply could not do so anymore. You see, you can’t wonder and wish life into submission, but you can develop the grit to take it under control. I like the word grit; it describes me well. Grit is something that doesn’t come from ease and privilege. Grit isn’t something you can detect from a GPA or test score. Grit becomes a gift to those of us who come from hard places, but have the determination to dream so big that we find our way out. I have dreamt my way out of darkness; I have dreamt my way out of self-pity; I have dreamt myself so far beyond my disabilities that they no longer look like disabilities to me; they look like my greatest strengths because, through every tear and every setback, I grew stronger. I dreamt my way into college, something no one thought I could achieve. However, here I am now, accepted into my top two universities. I am writing today, to share my story with you and to others like me; the dreamers of the world whose challenges will never limit their potential. My dream, for college and beyond, is to pursue pediatric nursing. My dream is to love, support, and care for children experiencing challenging situations during their darkest seasons; children much like me. I cannot imagine spending my life doing anything other than helping others. My heart has undoubtedly driven my desire to pursue nursing, along with my desire to tackle the academic and emotional challenges that I spent the majority of my life shying away from; I can and will do it! For most of my life, I’ve resented my struggles; today I celebrate them. I proudly present to you a dented, yet unbroken, girl who knows how to thrive when life is hard; a girl who knows success takes work; and a girl who doesn’t give up on her dreams. I want to impact the world, and I will.

For seventeen years, I wallowed in sadness over my circumstances; as a teen girl diagnosed with ADHD, Major Depressive Disorder, and a hormone imbalance, this was easy to do. I wondered how beautiful my life would be without my disabilities. You can’t wonder and wish life into submission, you develop the grit to take it under control. I like the word grit; it describes me well. Grit is something that doesn’t come from ease and privilege. Grit isn’t something you can detect from a GPA or test score. Grit becomes a gift to those of us who come from hard places, but have the determination to dream so big that we find our way out. My dream, for college and beyond, is to pursue pediatric nursing. My dream is to love, support, and care for children who are navigating life with illnesses and disability; children much like me. I cannot imagine spending my life doing anything other than helping others. My heart has undoubtedly driven my desire to pursue nursing, along with my desire to tackle the academic and emotional challenges that I spent the majority of my life shying away from; I can and will do it!

For most of my life, people have not thought much of me. I have never been the smartest or the most athletic. I have a hard time feeling happy and my mind is always racing. I spend hours on my work, just to get nowhere. Most people assume I am lazy and I just don't care; I do, in fact, care, so very much. Life is hard; every day is hard for me. Often, I've found myself getting jealous of others because everything seems to fall into place for them and because when they smile, I can see that it is genuine. I, on the other hand, have learned to fake mine. I have felt like a disappointment, mainly to myself, but also to my teachers who "try so hard to help me" and to my parents who can't understand why I won't just "do better." For seventeen years of my life, I wallowed in sadness over my circumstances; as a teen girl with a diagnosis of ADHD, Major Depressive Disorder, and a hormone imbalance, this was easy to do. I wondered how beautiful my life would be without my disabilities. I wondered and wondered; for years I wondered. I wondered, until one day, I simply could not do so anymore. You see, you can’t wonder and wish life into submission, but you can develop the grit to take it under control. I like the word grit; it describes me well. Grit is something that doesn’t come from ease and privilege. Grit isn’t something you can detect from a GPA or test score. Grit becomes a gift to those of us who come from hard places, but have the determination to dream so big that we find our way out. I have dreamt my way out of darkness; I have dreamt my way out of self-pity; I have dreamt myself so far beyond my disabilities that they no longer look like disabilities to me; they look like my greatest strengths because, through every tear and every setback, I grew stronger. I dreamt my way into college, something no one thought I could achieve. However, here I am now, accepted into my top two universities. I am writing today, to share my story with you and to others like me; the dreamers of the world whose challenges will never limit their potential. My dream, for college and beyond, is to pursue pediatric nursing. My dream is to love, support, and care for children experiencing challenging situations during their darkest seasons; children much like me. I cannot imagine spending my life doing anything other than helping others. My heart has undoubtedly driven my desire to pursue nursing, along with my desire to tackle the academic and emotional challenges that I spent the majority of my life shying away from; I can and will do it! For most of my life, I’ve resented my struggles; today I celebrate them. I proudly present to you a dented, yet unbroken, girl who knows how to thrive when life is hard; a girl who knows success takes work; and a girl who doesn’t give up on her dreams. I want to impact the world, and I will.

There’s so much more to me than people will ever know. To show you the chapters of my life, my story, I’d have to open up my book to you. It’s a terrifying thought for me; I've tried my entire life to keep it closed. However, you've asked for me to be vulnerable, to share the stories that prove my resilience; here I go. I’ve had a hard life. What makes it even harder is that from the outside, it doesn’t look that way. I’m not a person that anyone would look at and feel sorry for. I’m not a person that anyone would look at and think to offer help. I’m not a person that anyone would look at and second guess if the smile on my face was fake; it was by the way. Most of this was by design, and some of this was by assumption; the assumption that “pretty” girls, from “good” families, living in Jenks, America have it all. I didn’t have it all. I am a child of abuse; there aren’t better words for it. I don’t even like to put this into words. It makes me so uncomfortable to say that I’ve deleted and reinserted this paragraph five times now. My trauma was never physical, nothing anyone could ever see, but it was emotional, devastating, and left me numb. I grew up listening to chaos at home; words that hurt my spirit and broke my heart. I thought nothing of myself by grade six and less than nothing by grade nine. I was never an impressive child, in my parent's eyes. I was just a girl “who would have to spend her life trying really hard to become average,” a quote from my second-grade teacher; It’s funny what sticks with you. I felt so dumb in that moment. Eventually, other kids started to notice and liked to remind me of my shortcomings. Truthfully, I was never dumb. My brain worked differently and processed more slowly. My lack of focus, combined with my anxiety, depression, and hidden trauma made learning and succeeding hard. One of my parents didn’t believe in IEPs or medication, so I crawled along as my peers sped by. Then, in my junior year, I received the coveted designation of being a Mckinney-Vento recipient, a polite way to call me homeless. Sometimes I wonder what an impressive essay I could write if things were different… You can’t wonder and wish life into submission, but you can develop the grit to take it under control. I like the word grit; it describes me well. Grit is something that doesn’t come from ease and privilege. Grit isn’t something you can detect from a GPA or test score. Grit becomes a gift to those of us who come from hard places, but have the determination to dream so big that we find our way out. For most of my life, I’ve resented my struggles; today I celebrate them. I proudly present to you a dented, yet unbroken, girl who knows how to thrive when life is hard; a girl who knows success takes work; a girl who doesn’t give up on her dreams. What are my dreams; I know you’re wondering… I’ll grow up to become a pediatric nurse, working in a children’s hospital. I’ll work alongside children and families who are going through the hardest season in their lives. I'll hold their hands and give them comfort like only a fellow girl from a hard place can do. Today, I am endlessly proud of myself for living this life and overcoming it all.

There’s so much more to me than people will ever know. To show you the chapters of my life, my story, I’d have to open up my book to you. It’s a terrifying thought for me; I've tried my entire life to keep it closed. However, you've asked for me to be vulnerable, to share the stories that prove my resilience; so here I go. I’ve had a hard life. What makes it even harder is that from the outside, it doesn’t look that way. I’m not a person that anyone would look at and feel sorry for. I’m not a person that anyone would look at and think to offer help. I’m not a person that anyone would look at and second guess if the smile on my face was fake; it was by the way. Most of this was by design, and some of this was by assumption; the assumption that “pretty” girls, from “good” families, living in Jenks, America have it all. I didn’t have it all. I am a child of abuse; there aren’t better words for it. I don’t even like to put this into words. It makes me so uncomfortable to say that I’ve deleted and reinserted this paragraph five times now. My trauma was never physical, nothing anyone could ever see, but it was emotional, devastating, and left me numb. I grew up listening to chaos at home; words that hurt my spirit and broke my heart. I thought nothing of myself by grade six and less than nothing by grade nine. I was never an impressive child, in my parent's eyes. I was just a girl “who would have to spend her life trying really hard to become average,” a quote from my second-grade teacher; It’s funny what sticks with you. I felt so dumb in that moment. Eventually, other kids started to notice and liked to remind me of my shortcomings. Truthfully, I was never dumb. My brain worked differently and processed more slowly. My lack of focus, combined with my anxiety, depression, and hidden trauma made learning and succeeding hard. One of my parents didn’t believe in IEPs or medication, so I crawled along as my peers sped by. Then, in my junior year, I received the coveted designation of being a Mckinney-Vento recipient, a polite way to call me homeless. Sometimes I wonder what an impressive essay I could write if things were different… You can’t wonder and wish life into submission, but you can develop the grit to take it under control. I like the word grit; it describes me well. Grit is something that doesn’t come from ease and privilege. Grit isn’t something you can detect from a GPA or test score. Grit becomes a gift to those of us who come from hard places, but have the determination to dream so big that we find our way out. Most of my life, I’ve resented my struggles; today I celebrate them. I proudly present to you a dented, yet unbroken, girl who knows how to thrive when life is hard; a girl who knows success takes work; a girl who doesn’t give up on her dreams. What are my dreams; I know you’re wondering… I’ll grow up to become a pediatric nurse, working in a children’s hospital. I’ll work alongside children and families who are going through the hardest season in their lives. I'll hold their hands and give them comfort like only a fellow girl from a hard place can do. Today, I am endlessly proud of myself for living this life and overcoming it all.

Fall is a time that brings me comfort. I've never quite known why. I find peace in the quiet and life seems to slow. The air feels heavy, yet comforting, like a blanket, keeping me tucked safely underneath. My life today is a bit chaotic, loud, and sadly disheveled but during this time of year, my mind and body are still underneath the slow fall of twirling leaves. The first time I had my favorite drink, the iconic PSL, I was so young. I remember walking around Utica Square, a beautiful, tree-covered shopping district, with my mother; I miss that time with her. Everyone was warmly bundled in cream-colored peacoats and wrapped in scarves the color of rust and red; it was honestly like a scene from a movie. The trees painted a background of crimson and gold; you could see your breath in the air. We ran into the corner Starbucks; I remember we were laughing although I'm not sure why. Jazz music in the background and warmly colored lights... it felt like pure comfort. We approached the barista and I begged her to allow me to get the same drink she always did during that time of year; obviously, I am talking about the drink that has now become like home to me. It's a little silly to view such a small thing with such large importance, but my first sip of my first Pumpkin Spice Latte, of every season always takes me back to that moment, in that place, with that peace and joy. I am writing this today, at seventeen years old. Life right now is far from simple. My family is not as cohesive as they once were; chaotic and anxiety-inducing at times. Home is not the safe place that it once was and I stress greatly about my future. Growing up is hard, but it felt especially hard for me. When life gets difficult, we, as humans, always look for things that bring us back to the most content places of our past; mine is the moment I wrote about today. So why have I spent the past hour and a half reflecting on steamed milk and espresso? It is to share with you all the importance in my life that this one memory plays, and how the intricate details of warmed pumpkin and cinnamon bring me back to the place I most want to be; even if just for a moment. The PSL will always and forever feel like so much more than a drink to me; it feels like home.

Success to me, looks different than it does to most, but then again, the way I define success does as well. Most people, when describing success, talk of loud and boisterous achievements, grandiose in status and stature, but success for me has come about more quietly; drops of accomplishments and attempts that have very slowly built up over time. Not everyone will look at my life and see a success story. I, however, am endlessly proud of the story I've written in my seventeen years of life. There is so much more to me than people will ever know. To show you the chapters of my life, my story, I’d have to open up my book to you. This is a scary thought for me; I've tried my entire life to keep it closed. However, you have asked for me to be vulnerable; to share the stories that would render my submission incomplete without retelling, so here I go. I’ve had a hard life. What makes it even harder is that from the outside, it doesn’t look that way. I’m not a person that anyone would look at and feel sorry for. I’m not a person that anyone would look at and think to offer help. I’m not a person that anyone would look at and second guess if the smile on my face was fake; it was by the way. Most of this was by design, and some of this was by assumption; the assumption that “pretty” girls, from “good” families, living in Jenks, America have it all. I did not have it all. I am a child of abuse; I don't have a better word to call it. I don’t even like to put this into words. It makes me so uncomfortable to say that I’ve deleted and reinserted this paragraph five times now. My trauma was never physical, nothing anyone could ever see, but it was emotional, devastating, and left me numb. I grew up listening to chaos at home; words that hurt my spirit and crushed my soul. I thought nothing of myself by grade six and less than nothing by grade nine. To backtrack a bit, I was never an impressive child, in my parent's eyes. I was just a girl “who would have to spend her life trying really hard to become average,” a direct quote from my second-grade teacher; It’s funny what sticks with you. I felt so dumb in that moment. Eventually, other kids started to notice and liked to remind me of my shortcomings. Truthfully, I was never dumb. My brain worked differently and processed more slowly and my lack of focus, combined with my anxiety, depression, and hidden trauma made learning and succeeding hard. One of my parents refused to let me be evaluated or be medicated, so I crawled along as my peers sped by. Then, in my junior year, I received the coveted designation of being a Mckinney-Vento recipient, a polite way to call me homeless. Sometimes I wonder what an impressive essay I could write if things were different… You can’t wonder and wish life into submission, but you can develop the grit to take it under control. I like the word grit; I think it describes me well. Grit is something that doesn’t come from ease and privilege. Grit isn’t something you can detect from a GPA or test score. Grit becomes a gift to those of us who come from hard places, but have the determination to dream so big that we find our way out. Therefore, success to me looks different. It's like holding your head high when you feel like letting yourself go under. It's like having a bigger heart than a brain; I'll graduate proudly as a Distinguished Service Graduate. Success looks like transforming what hurt you, into something that helps others. Success to me looks like the college acceptance letters I've received that no one thought I'd get. Success in my future looks like finding a way to fund that education. For most of my life, I’ve resented my struggles; today I celebrate them for all that they are. I proudly present to you, dearest reader, a bent, yet unbroken, girl who knows how to thrive when life is hard; a girl who knows success takes work; a girl who doesn’t give up on her dreams. What are my dreams; I know you’re wondering… I will grow up to become a pediatric nurse, working in a children’s hospital. I will work alongside children and families who are going through the hardest time in their lives. I will hold their hands and give them comfort like only a fellow girl from a hard place can do. Today, I'm endlessly proud of myself for refusing to settle for average; for finding my success.

Reading Mr. Terry's story of resilience gives me hope for my own. There is so much more to me than people will ever know. To show you the chapters of my life, my story, I’d have to open up my book to you. This is a scary thought for me; I've tried my entire life to keep it closed. However, you have asked for me to be vulnerable; to share the stories that would render my submission incomplete without retelling, so here I go. I’ve had a hard life. What makes it even harder is that from the outside, it doesn’t look that way. I’m not a person that anyone would look at and feel sorry for. I’m not a person that anyone would look at and think to offer help. I’m not a person that anyone would look at and second guess if the smile on my face was fake; it was by the way. Most of this was by design, and some of this was by assumption; the assumption that “pretty” girls, from “good” families, living in Jenks, America have it all. I did not have it all. I am a child of abuse. I don’t even like to put this into words. It makes me so uncomfortable to say that I’ve deleted and reinserted this paragraph five times now. My abuse was never physical, nothing anyone could ever see, but it was emotional and devastating. I thought nothing of myself by grade six. I was never an impressive child in my family's eyes. I was just a girl “who would have to spend her life trying hard to become average, ” a quote from my second-grade teacher. As I grew, I continued to feel stupid. Eventually, others started to notice and liked to remind me. Truthly I was never stupid. My brain worked differently and processed more slowly and my lack of focus, combined with my anxiety, depression, and hidden trauma made learning and succeeding hard. My father refused to let me be evaluated or be medicated, so I crawled along as my peers sped by. In my junior year, I received the coveted designation of being a Mckinney-Vento recipient, a polite way to call me homeless. Sometimes I wonder what an impressive application I would’ve submitted to you if things were different… You can’t wonder and wish life into submission, but you can develop the grit to take it under control. I like the word grit; I think it describes me well. Grit is something that doesn’t come from ease and privilege. Grit isn’t something you can detect from a GPA or test score. Grit becomes a gift to those of us who come from hard places, but have the determination to dream so big that we find our way out. For most of my life, I’ve resented my struggles; today I celebrate them for all that they are. I proudly present to you, dearest reader, a dinged, yet unbroken, girl who knows how to thrive when life is hard; a girl who knows success takes work; a girl who doesn’t give up on her dreams. What are my dreams; I know you’re wondering… I will grow up to become a pediatric nurse, working in a children’s hospital. I will work alongside children and families who are going through the hardest time in their lives. I will hold their hands and give them comfort like only a fellow girl from a hard place can do. Today, I am endlessly proud of myself for refusing to settle for average. Like Mr. Terry; I've got much to give.

There is so much more to me than people will ever know. To show you the chapters of my life, my story, I’d have to open up my book to you. This is a scary thought for me; I've tried my entire life to keep it closed. However, you have asked for me to be vulnerable; to share the stories that would render my submission incomplete without retelling, so here I go. I’ve had a hard life. What makes it even harder is that from the outside, it doesn’t look that way. I’m not a person that anyone would look at and feel sorry for. I’m not a person that anyone would look at and think to offer help. I’m not a person that anyone would look at and second guess if the smile on my face was fake; it was by the way. Most of this was by design, some of this was by assumption; the assumption that “pretty” girls, from “good” families, living in Jenks, America have it all. I did not have it all. I am a child of abuse. I don’t even like to put this into words. It makes me so uncomfortable to say that I’ve deleted and reinserted this paragraph five times now. My abuse was never physical, nothing anyone could ever see, but it was emotional, and devastating. I thought nothing of myself by grade six. I grew up listening to my father berate my mother, over and over and over again. Eventually, it shifted to me, sadly. I got it from my dad and my mom; she was hurt and I was an outlet. Sometimes I wonder what an impressive application I would’ve submitted to you if things were different… You can’t wonder and wish life into submission, but you can develop the grit to take it under control. I like the word grit; I think it describes me well. Grit is something that doesn’t come from easy and privileged. Grit isn’t something you can detect from a GPA or test score. Grit becomes a gift to those of us who come from hard places, but have the determination to dream so big that we find our way out. Most of my life, I’ve resented my struggles; today I celebrate them for all that they are. I proudly present to you, dearest reader, a dinged, yet unbroken, girl who knows how to thrive when life is hard; a girl who knows success takes work; a girl who doesn’t give up on her dreams. What are my dreams; I know you’re wondering… I will grow up to become a pediatric nurse, working in a children’s hospital. I will work alongside children and families who are going through the hardest time in their lives. I will hold their hands and give them comfort like only a fellow girl from a hard place can do. Today, I am endlessly proud of myself for refusing to settle for average.

There is so much more to me than people will ever know. To show you the chapters of my life, my story, I’d have to open up my book to you. This is a scary thought for me; I've tried my entire life to keep it closed. However, you have asked for me to be vulnerable; to share the stories that would render my submission incomplete without retelling, so here I go. I’ve had a hard life. What makes it even harder is that from the outside, it doesn’t look that way. I’m not a person that anyone would look at and feel sorry for. I’m not a person that anyone would look at and think to offer help. I’m not a person that anyone would look at and second guess if the smile on my face was fake; it was by the way. Most of this was by design, some of this was by assumption; the assumption that “pretty” girls, from “good” families, living in Jenks, America have it all. I did not have it all. I am a child of abuse. I don’t even like to put this into words. It makes me so uncomfortable to say that I’ve deleted and reinserted this paragraph five times now. My abuse was never physical, nothing anyone could ever see, but it was emotional, and devastating. I thought nothing of myself by grade six. I grew up listening to my father berate my mother, over and over and over again. Eventually, it shifted to me, sadly. I got it from my dad and my mom; she was hurt and I was an outlet. I was never an impressive child, in their eyes. I was just a girl “who would have to spend her life trying really hard to become average.” I put that in quotes because that’s the exact phrase my second grade teacher used to describe me to my mother, as I stood by her side and listened; It’s funny what sticks with you. I felt so stupid. As I grew, I continued to feel stupid. Eventually other kids started to notice, and liked to remind me. Truthly I was never stupid. My brain worked differently and processed more slowly and my lack of focus, combined with my anxiety, depression, and hidden trauma made learning and succeeding hard. My father refused to let me be evaluated or be medicated, so I crawled along as my peers sped by. My junior year I received the coveted designation of being a Mckinney-Vento recipient, a polite way to call me homeless. Sometimes I wonder what an impressive application I would’ve submitted to you if things were different… You can’t wonder and wish life into submission, but you can develop the grit to take it under control. I like the word grit; I think it describes me well. Grit is something that doesn’t come from easy and privileged. Grit isn’t something you can detect from a GPA or test score. Grit becomes a gift to those of us who come from hard places, but have the determination to dream so big that we find our way out. Most of my life, I’ve resented my struggles; today I celebrate them for all that they are. I proudly present to you, dearest reader, a dinged, yet unbroken, girl who knows how to thrive when life is hard; a girl who knows success takes work; a girl who doesn’t give up on her dreams. What are my dreams; I know you’re wondering… I will grow up to become a pediatric nurse, working in a children’s hospital. I will work alongside children and families who are going through the hardest time in their lives. I will hold their hands and give them comfort like only a fellow girl from a hard place can do. Today, I am endlessly proud of myself for refusing to settle for average.