My mental and physical health is the number one most important thing to me. Throughout my life I have struggled greatly with my mental health. Childhood trauma, recent trauma, depression, and anxiety are all things that I've struggled with for years. And for years I let those things control my life, I let my anxiety stop me from trying out for sports or school plays or going to parties. I let my depression take over and damage my relationship with my family and my relationship with myself. I hated looking in the mirror and seeing a stranger, feeling so foreign in my own body due to being transgender. I hated the body I had so much that I stopped caring about what happened to it, I stopped taking care of myself. I felt so physically ill all the time. I couldnt't eat full meals, I couldn't run without feeling like I was dying, I barely had the energy to shower, I couldn't sleep. It was like I was a zombie, walking around as a husk of a person. For a while I had no intention of getting better, nothing seemed to be getting better so why should I? But I did. I did get better, and I realized how my quality of life went up because I stopped being so afraid of healing. I made more friends, I got a boyfriend, I got a job. For the first time, I was so excited about life. And I realized that since I had put the effort into getting better mentally, I could now put in the effort to get better physically. I had been ill for a long, long time. There was a span of about 3-4 months where I was so sick I couldn't get out of bed. Constant nausea, headaches, stomachaches, I thought I was dying. Eventually I got diagnosed with Celiac Disease and learned that I was allergic to gluten. If 14 year old me was told that, I wouldn't have cared. I would've kept eating gluten and kept getting sicker because I couldn't be bothered to treat my body right, because I hated it. But that isn't what happened. I stopped eating gluten, I started easing myself back into exercising and taking care of myself. I've been active and gluten free for about two years now, and it is the best decision I've ever made. In the process of taking care of my gut health and exercising, I got the best side effect I could've ever asked for: I stopped hating myself. All of the muscle I put on helped me come to terms with my body as a trans man. I finally appreciate everything that my body has carried me through and protected me from. I am going to continue to take care of myself in this way, because if you hate yourself, if you're so uncomfortable in the skin you were born in, you are going to be uncomfortable in every single thing you do. I don't want that, I want a life of comfort, love, and happiness. My health is everything to me, to be healthy, queer, and thriving is all I've ever wanted.

Futhering my eduction is extremely important to me because I want to understand people. The more that you learn about the world around you through chemistry, business, English, any class really, the more you learn about people. Every single thing that is taught, someone discovered. They spent their life on the pursuit of knowledge and the betterment of education. I want to get smarter, I want to learn everything that I can in order to help the people around me. And this doesn't just apply to school, it applies to art too. Art has been my number one best friend since I was a kid. Through an unsafe living situation as a kid, financial instability, bullying, mental health struggles, and trauma, art has always been there for me. If I was upset or anxious, the one thing I did since I was a kid was draw. I would sit in class and draw all over my arms and hands, I'd replace the unsafe or unstable feelings with something beautiful. Even now, through the stress of graduating and becoming an adult, through the stress of a messy break up and transitioning into the "real world," I still turn to art. The moment I feel myself start to fizzle out and life stops feeling real, I go through my extensive collection of CDs. I'll sort through them until I find the one that matches my mood, and I'll pop it in to my CD player. Sometimes I just sit and listen, I let myself sway to the melody and mouth the lyrics silently to myself. Sometimes, when I'm home by myself, I scream the lyrics so loud my throat hurts. Most of the time I make art. I put the CD in and I grab a pen or a paintbrush and I sit on my bedroom floor and I just draw. I never have a plan, but I force myself to make that first line, the first brushstroke. Something to erase the emptiness and intimidating feeling of a blank canvas. Art reminds me that I'm real. That I have the power to create and control something, that I have the power to choose something. I choose where that first line goes. I get to pick what colors I use or what lighting goes where. I always turn to art when something out of my control happens. Art and music have always been there for me, they've been the one thing that's never let me down.

I have struggled with my mental health since I was a young kid, for a lot of reasons. My parents both were mentally ill, I was mentally, physically, and verbally abused, and I was bullied. Life has never been easy for me, it was difficult the moment I knew that I was different. I knew I was queer when I was in elementary school. I remember thinking to myself, "boys are so pretty, but girls are so pretty too! Why doesn't everyone like boys and girls?" I was...scared of this part of me. I didn't really understand it but I kind of just let it be for a bit. When you're a kid you don't really have to understand these things just yet. Besides, I had other things going on in my life. My parents went through a nasty divorce when I was in preschool, and the legal battle for custody continued all the way until I was in fifth grade. At this age the overwhelming feeling of "differentness" was genuinely consuming me. I'd look at my boy friends and be so jealous of the things they were doing and I didn't understand why I couldn't run around with my shirt off or play in the mud with them. I began to hate my girl friends because they didn't want to do those things with me. I just felt so intrinsically wrong and out of place. At this point in my life I was struggling so incredibly bad with self harm and suicidal ideation, and the same could be said for my two older siblings. The three of us were always incredibly close, we were the only constant in each other's lives through all of the custody battles, the moving schools, the losing friends. I always had my siblings with me and we were incredibly close, I wanted to be just like my big brother and my big sister. So when my older sister cut her hair short I cut mine too. At first it's because I wanted to be like her, but the longer I looked at myself in the mirror, the more times I got "mistaken" for a boy, the happier I felt. I felt like me. I felt...right. For the first time ever. I kept my hair short and ignored that part of me. I was scared. Admitting that I was trans was terrifying. All I knew about trans people was what I saw on the incredibly republican news channels my dad watched. I felt like a freak. So I ignored it and told myself I was a lesbian. I was able to force myself into this femininity (even though I hated it and had developed a severe self harm addiction because I valued my body so little) until I was 14. When I was 14 years old my older brother committed suicide and I'd found him. It sucked. It was awful. It was the worst time of my life, it was nothing but confusing and upsetting and so full of hurt. But I am so thankful for him. His passing made me wake up. It made me realize that I didn't want to die repressing who I was and living in fear. So I didn't anymore. And as a small bonus, he got the little brother he always wanted.

Being trans is the best thing I have ever experienced. I won't lie, it has been difficult. I've lost friends, I've lost family, I've been hate crimed and bullied. It's difficult to live in a world where it seems like everyone is against who you are, intrinsically. It's a terrifying time to be alive, and it's an even more terrifying time to be on your own. But being trans is so beautiful. The community of people that I have gained because of this is priceless. I've experienced such beautiful examples of human kindness, compassion, and love from other trans people and from trans allies. There is something so special and so beautiful about the ability to shape and form yourself into the person you've always known you are. I think back to the little girl I grew up as. I think about how confused and out of place she felt, how she felt so innately wrong. And I cherish that little girl and how she felt because it got better. It got so much better. All those nights crying to myself because I hated my period or my growing chest. All those 2AM thoughts of "I wish I could wake up tomorrow and be a boy." All of the crippling dysphoria and the thousands of hours of binding I put my body through. It was all worth it. I'm able to shape myself, to alter my body and appearance to suit what has always been there in my mind and soul. I believe there is nothing more powerful than physically changing yourself into the person you want to be, whether that is surgery, hormone replacement therapy, a new clothing style, a haircut, piercings, or tattoos. That human ability of being a piece of living clay is so special and something that trans people and queer people have known and honored since the dawn of time. I want to uphold this belief, not only for myself but my community. I want to be a tattoo artist. Tattoos are so much more than just ink and skin. They're commitments, they're inside jokes, they're memorials, they're a way to reinvent yourself. Tattoos are so human, they exist in cultures around the world because people know there's nothing more special than curating your body to be your very own personal museum of your life. Tattoos are incredibly important to me as a queer person. I dream about the tattoos I'm going to get after I get top surgery. Not to cover my scars, but to honor them. To celebrate the beauty that a trans body is. I think about all of the queer elders who came before me, and how they found community by using a piece of art on skin as a signifier to tell others "you're safe with me." I know how much that chest tattoo would mean to me, what it would feel like when I am able to look at my chest and instead of feeling sick and uncomfortable, I can admire the work of art that I made. I want to be able to be the person to give that feeling to others. I know how much a tattoo can mean to someone, whether its a memorial tattoo for a lost pet or a loved one, tattooing over or including self harm scars, or tattooing a realistic nipple on the breast of a woman who fought and won breast cancer. Tattoos are not just a drawing on skin, they're more than a needle and some ink. They give people life, they give people their confidence back, sometimes even their independence. I want to be able to care for my community in that way. To provide a service so special and unique and so deeply personal. It is a gift and honor to know people in such an emotionally intimate way. That is what the gift of being trans has given me. It's given me a deep sense of understanding and love for the people around me.

My impact is going to be tattooing. I want to own my own studio one day. A studio where my artists and customers can feel safe and can express themselves in any way they feel is best for them. Over the past couple of years I have done some community work that involves my art. As a sophomore I volunteered with the Friends of Caledon, a volunteer organization dedicated to preserving and uplifting the beauty of Caledon State Park. I painted bugs, animals, plants, and scenery on mile markers for a new trail. Ever since then, I continue to hear stories from the Friend of Caledon on how the mile markers make the hike so much more fun for visitors, they look for the next one and try to guess what it will be, it gives them something to be excited about. Recently, my best friend's childhood cat passed away. It was a really difficult time for his mom as she adored that cat. He asked for a commission of his late cat. I turned the money down and drew his cat anyway. When I gave the picture I'd drawn to his mother she was so grateful. She cried and she thanked me and it was then that I realized my art has an impact on people. My art is known and appreciated and I am so incredibly thankful. I've seen the way that the things that I've been able to create affect the people around me. I want to continue to have that impact and that community as I grow older and pursue my dream of working as a tattoo artist and owning my own tattoo studio. Tattoos are so incredibly important to me as they are a beautiful way to become a walking art gallery. They can mean so much to people, whether it comes to a memorial tattoo for a lost loved one or a pet, a tribute to someone's favourite show or song, or even cosmetic tattooing for women who have lost their nipples to breast cancer. The thought that I could be able to create a piece of art that could make someone that happy and could mean that much to them is so genuinely special. I want to continue to be able to provide this type of comfort and happiness for the people of my community.

I have always struggled with my mental health, ever since I was a young kid. I grew up in an unstable, abusive household and divorced parents. When you're a child you can't really control anything, it is up to the discretion of the adults around you to use their best judgement. Unfortunately, the adults in my life could barely do that. Art was my escape, it was my form of control. I couldn't control what my parents did or what the courts decided, but I could control what I drew. I had a complete domain over every brush stroke, every pen or pencil mark, the pressure and opacity of my colors. It was all up to me. Growing up, art was my control. It was my constant through bullying, divorced parents, losing friends and family, and new schools. My life was constantly changing but my art was always there, evolving with me as I got older. There was a period of my life where it got difficult to create. My older brother passed away from suicide in 2021, I was fourteen years old. It threw me into such a bad depression I could barely get out of bed. I couldn't eat, I could barely walk. The only things I could do was cry or sleep. I'd lost any motivation to be creative, much less create my own art. My depression, anxiety, and PTSD was so bad that in October of 2021 I was institutionalized for ten days at a psychiatric facility. It was there that I reconnected with my art. I was forced to be alone there, to sit with my thoughts. And I had no control there, everything was planned out. Meal times, bed times, medication times, therapy, even the daily "fun" activities we had to do. But every day, there was an art hour. That art hour is what saved me. I was able to sit by myself, a multitude of art supplies in front of me and I was in a place that truly was judgement free. This was my chance to have some semblance of control, of freedom, of expression. So I painted. And I drew, and I sketched, and I spent all of my time drawing and writing. I'd take crayons back to my room and spend hours drawing in a cheap journal my mom bought me. I was back where I was as a kid. Alone in a room with crayons and some paper. I realized that's what I needed. I needed to sit by myself and just...make something. Make anything. A poem, a flower out of paper, a sketch of my stuffed animal. I started creating and ever since I got out of the hospital, I haven't stopped. I learned to appreciate what is around me, to look at the world and notice all of the little details. I learned to notice how beautiful and special it means to be alive. I learned to trust my brain and my creativity and I remembered the reason why art had always been there for me: it was fun and it was so uniquely me.

My "why" is humanness. Artificial intelligence can copy anything, it can read an algorithm and create something based off of the hard work of people, but it cannot create genuine art. Art is so intrinsically human. Every horsehair brush stroke, every burnt piece of charcoal, every smashed flower is intentional. Art is done with intention and care. Everything has meaning, every expression, every blocking choice, every stitched gem is intentional. Art is a form of human control and expression, it is ingrained in the human psyche and soul to create. Cave paintings made with mud and sticks prevailed millions of years of human evolution. The Romans and the Greeks created amazing sculptures thousands of years ago. The French Revolution added an invaluable amount of insight into the human experience. Chinese poems and proverbs continue to inspire generation after generation. The human experience never ends, and the intrinsic connection of being alive gives everyone something to relate to. People crave community, they crave the ability to create and share. Humanness is why I want to pursue art. Art has always been a constant in my life, a form of control. I may not have always been able to control what happens around me, but I am able to control my art. And because of my control and my art I've been able to create a community around it. I've drawn people's late pets, created birthday and Christmas cards and gifts, and done community service. My art is known and appreciated and I am so incredibly thankful. I've seen the way that the things that I've been able to create affect the people around me. I want to continue to have that impact and that community as I grow older and pursue my dream of working as a tattoo artist and owning my own tattoo studio. Tattoos are so incredibly important to me as they are a beautiful way to become a walking art gallery. They can mean so much to people, whether it comes to a memorial tattoo for a lost loved one or a pet, a tribute to someone's favourite show or song, or even cosmetic tattooing for women who have lost their nipples to breast cancer. The thought that I could be able to create a piece of art that could make someone that happy and could mean that much to them is so genuinely special. Art is human, that is my why.

I adore drawing animals and plants. There is so much natural beauty that shows in this world and there is a constant stream of inspiration. A few years ago, I did volunteer work at Caledon State Park where I painted mile markers with various animals, plants, bugs, and scenery. That summer was genuinely the best summer I ever had. I spent every day in the outdoors painting with nothing but the sound of the woods. I saw foxes and rabbits, caught so many frogs, and I even stood only 6 feet away from a full grown buck. I never felt more connected to my art, my humanity, and the earth than that summer. That feeling continues to inspire my work as I focus primarily on nature elements.

In my life there have been a lot of changes, moving back and forth between my parent's houses each week, transferring to multiple different elementary schools, dealing with new friends and constantly having to deal with new therapists and guardian ad litems. My life has constantly been changing, but the one constant has been art. When I was a kid I was the artist. Everyone knew me as that kid who just, drew. I'd draw on anything I could get my hands on, paper, books, carpet, the walls, my siblings. If it had the potential for art to be on it, I'd draw on it. Every birthday and every Christmas I got sketchbooks, those cheap cases full of markers and pastels, colored pencils, crayons, anything you could make art with, I got. And I used all of it. Art was my escape, it was my control. As a young kid you can't control everything that happens around you, the discretion is up to the adults in your life. And when you're a kid like me, where the adults have a hard time getting along and controlling their own lives and emotions, it constantly feels like you're free-falling. Art was a way for me to ground myself. I could create whatever I wanted whenever I wanted. It was up to me where every paint stroke went, where every pen line was placed, how much pressure to use with pencils and crayons. It was all up to me. It was the first line of control that I ever experienced and grasped fully. Art became me. I didn't go anywhere without a sketchbook and a pencil, or at the very least a pen so I could turn my arms and legs into walking art galleries. As I got older my love of art and self expression only increased. The biggest difference was pushing that creativity and art into other aspects of my life. I started experimenting with other ways to create. Such as clothing, makeup, and sewing. Having the ability to control what I was doing and having the privilege of putting my time and effort into it helped me to slow down. To notice the little details. I experienced a very heavy loss when I was 14 and it was debilitating. I was no longer drawing, I wasn't creating, I couldn't even get out of bed. I was severely depressed and was struggling immensely to the point where I ended up being hospitalized. I thank that hospital everyday because it reconnected me to my art. I sat in a room and did nothing but draw and draw and draw. It helped me remember the kind of person that I am. From then on art has remained a constant in my life. I'm always covered in marker, paint, or charcoal. I always have a pencil or a pen on me. I wear shirts and pants that I've made from scratch or upcycled. Art is my fallback, it is my safe place, it is my form of control. It is me.