As a young girl, I struggled with severe anxiety from external factors around me. Whether it was control over certain events or my relationships with people, the uncertainty and inability to do something crippled me. Bulimia started my sophomore year of high school and has affected me ever since. Whenever I felt as though I didn’t have any control, I turned to binging and purging because that was something I could understand. By controlling everything that I put into it and forced out I ignored feeling helplessness. I started to understand more and confront the underlying issues. Everyone who struggles with an eating disorder has their own unique story and is constantly being written. I believe eating disorders are an addiction, where once you have it, it’s a part of you forever. Instead of hating myself, I learned to appreciate how my ED comforted me in times of trauma. I learned to understand my ED and derive lessons from this experience to expose the root causes of my anxiety. It is my passion and duty to illustrate my story and help others understand theirs. I learned from a young age that you truly have no idea what others are going through. I hid my bulimia from everyone for years. Being honest and open about these vulnerabilities and traumas will help erase the stigmas of eating disorders. My goal is to uncover these truths about myself to emphasize we are all human and that’s okay. Honesty breaks down barriers and reveal our true selves. Uncomfortable truths promote growth. I can be an example for others to not take out the chaos and instability around you on yourself, but instead believe in yourself and question the world not yourself. That is how we as a society will grow and support one another.

There is something about myself that I seldom tell others. I absolutely love to paint, and I am so proud of myself for indulging this creative outlet. Recently, I have started this new hobby to try and access my right side of my brain because my therapist suggested I try and create an artistic activity. It started with a trip to the closest Target to my apartment and walking through the art supplies section. I walked up and down the aisles for a couple of minutes, until something called to me. Finally, I picked up a blank canvas and a set of paint with paint brushes and check out. When I got home that day, I sat down on an old towel, put some music on, and without thinking just started to paint. At first, I thought too much about what I was painting and went down a rabbit hole thought process of judging myself for thinking I could paint when I was not an artistic person, nor have I ever taken a painting class. However, I pushed through and was able to not think, just paint. I quit the paint brushes early on, and ended up finger painting. By creating this safe space for myself, where no negative thoughts could influence my thoughts, I ended up painting an ocean scene with clashing waves and a sunset. I fell in love with it. I couldn't believe that I actually was able to create something that was beautiful in my eyes and fulfilled a strong need within myself to have this outlet. I love my confidence, my self-love and my patience for myself to allow my usual left-brain personality this artistic escape for whenever I feel overwhelmed or anxious, I now have this amazing hobby to beautifully guide me.

“It’s never too late, or in my case too early to be whoever you want to be. There’s no time limit. Start whenever you want,” (F. Scott Fitzgerald). I grew up in a household where you overworked yourself and ignored your mental health. My father joked about therapy and my mother took everything personally. My parents were raised with these sentiments, which helped them become successful. One was raised by Italian immigrants who worked nonstop to prove themselves, and the other was raised by low-income parents from West Virginia, who were workaholics. I understood their upbringing and justified how they learned to survive by pushing down any indication of anxiety. Both sides of my family pass down generational trauma which significantly impacted my relationship with my father. He took out most of his anger and dissatisfaction onto me. This prompted my habit of trying to solve the problems that arose in our family because I wanted everyone to be happy. I became a perfectionist and attempted to be the best daughter possible to try to make less problems. I couldn’t control my family’s inability to get along, only myself, so I anxiously strived for perfection and crumbled when I didn’t meet those expectations. No matter how hard I tried, my family continued to fight and my father’s resentment towards me continued. By high school, anxiety loomed over me. I cried in the bathroom in between classes to get through the day. The worst part was I didn’t know why I was crying. I was too young to understand. I just wanted my family to get along and to feel as though I was good enough for my dad. I turned toward an eating disorder to feel as though I had some control. In college my life still was dictated by what would make everyone else happy. I pursued a degree in winemaking at Cornell University because my father started a winery years ago. I was chasing a life that was not mine in an attempt to earn my father’s approval. In my junior year, my parents filed for divorce, and my father decided to kick me out of the winery. My heart shattered. I spiraled quickly after that. This scared my mom enough to drive straight to me and help. She introduced the idea of starting over, something she was trying do herself. It’s okay to leave and not look back, she said. It didn’t matter what other people thought about me or what I did. The only thing that mattered was what I thought of myself. That’s when I realized, I didn’t know myself. I lived the way society said to, the way I thought my dad wanted me to, and the way I convinced myself to. I didn’t know who I was, but I wanted to. I left without finishing the semester. I couldn’t handle it anymore. That was a turning point for me. I allowed myself to stop working towards these visions of being the perfect daughter who graduated an ivy league school. Leaving the secured path, I originally chose for myself scared me. I felt useless and like a failure and questioned my decision to leave daily. It was a foreign concept to me, admitting something you tried didn’t work out and accepting that it’s okay. Several months passed of highs and low. I started to self-reflect and learn who I was, what makes me happy, and how I want to live. It started with spontaneously dying my hair black, to leaving a toxic relationship and finally learning to love myself. I still avoided therapy because I was biased and let pride take over. The start of my senior year at Temple University I felt secure in myself. I embraced the real me and a newfound confidence helped take control of my life, but I failed to realize my past needed to heal. I still held onto this feeling of not being good enough. Then one day I hit a mental block and finally admitted to myself I needed to understand what was holding me back. It was not easy. I forced myself to go every week. It wasn’t for several months until I understood why working on your mental health is so important. My therapist helped me discover all the parts that made me the person I am today. I learned that even though I am an adult, I will always have an inner child part who was emotionally neglected all those years. Comforting my inner child promoted being able to detach myself of the unhealthy desire for my father’s approval, and rely solely on my own. I am the child who lived through survival mode and the empowered adult who chooses their healing. By growing up in an environment where it’s considered weak to admit defeat, I pushed myself until I emotionally burnt out. Social media influenced my beliefs that being mentally and emotionally healthy meant you’re always happy and didn’t let things bother you. I discovered for myself that all feelings and emotions are valid. I viewed my depression, anxiety, and panic attacks as signs of weakness, but I realized they are signs of trying to remain strong. Allowing myself space to feel these uncomfortable emotions and heal them, turned into a deep sense of self-love and self-respect. Looking back when I felt defeated, words cannot describe how grateful I am for the strength it took to surrender myself to my mental health journey. My past experiences highlight the importance of sharing my story with others. I want to break down the barriers put up and provide the space for others to be vulnerable. I grew tired of putting my head down every day and living just to survive. I grew tired of watching those around me do the same. I am choosing to live by example and inspire others to not only take control of their life, but not waste it. It’s never too late to find the courage to start anew.

When I reflect on my mother's and my relationship, I see a bond so pure and radiant, yet raw and embellished with all that we have been through. From day one, my mom was my best friend. There was no question about it. My family's dynamic unusual because my father and I didn't get along, so my mom and I spent most time together. She was my nurturer, protector, comforter, and most importantly she made me feel seen and heard as an individual. Early on I struggled a lot with my confidence because I had a negative relationship with my father. I didn't believe in myself nor did I trust myself which stunted my growth. My mother pushed me to challenge myself and try new things. That was key in my development as a young girl, to be provided with this safe space to venture past my comfort zone to learn how to deal with change and adapt in the world. The most significant moment in my life can be traced back to when I was attending a completely different school than I am now. I studied chemistry at Cornell University for three years, chasing a dream I thought I had wanted at an amazing school to please someone else. In 2018, I hit a wall of depression. I was stuck, lost and scared out of my mind not knowing what I was doing in life. Now, most people's parents if they heard that their child hadn't gone to classes in a week, questioned every decision they had made up to that point in time, and didn't know what to do, would probably say get up and go to class. My mom on the other hand, when I called her crying scared and confused, cancelled all of her meetings for the week, got into her car and drove 5 hours to my apartment on campus. A couple of days later I had settled down enough to begin making some decisions on what I was going to do. Leaving an ivy league college, I had worked so hard for was the last thing on my mind. I was intent on figuring out how to force myself through the next year and a half. I was scared what people would think of me: if I left, if I didn't have a plan, if I failed at this attempt to make it in the real world. It was my mother who looked at me and pushed me once again out of my comfort zone by saying it was okay to leave. She's the one who gave me the reassurance and confidence I needed to admit I was struggling and needed help. She taught me the most valuable lesson I think one should learn in life, which is its okay to fall down sometimes, just get back up and try again. And that is what I did. After coming home and focusing on who I was as an individual and my values in life, I was able to build myself up from a new foundation created from the life lessons I was taught by my mother. She is my rock who helps me feel stable and my role model who pushes me to be the best that I can be. I am forever grateful for that moment in my life because now, 3 years later I am in my senior year of college about to graduate with a full time job offer awaiting me in a career path that empowers me, all because my mom helped me believe in myself.

Joy is the sun waking you up. Joy is breathing in and exhaling all the things in life that were holding you back. Joy is looking at your surroundings and finding beauty in things you least expected to. Joy is choosing the harder path and realizing you actually could get through it. Joy is being so close to others that when you aren’t around them you feel it in your soul. Joy is the sound of laughter. Joy is the inexplicable sense of belonging when you hug someone you love. Joy is driving with the windows down and feeling the wind in your hair. Joy is feeling pain yet being grateful for the lessons it provides you. Joy is being appreciated and respected. Joy is closing your eyes at a concert and feeling all of the energy around you. Joy is diving into the ocean and coming up for air. Joy is what makes life worth living. Joy is feeling at peace with yourself. Joy is me.

As a young girl, I struggled with severe anxiety from external factors around me. Whether it was control over certain events or my relationships with people, the uncertainty and inability to do something crippled me. These influences included my parents and how they raised me. My relationship with my father revolved around him taking his personal trauma out on me by putting me down. Growing up with a daily reminder that your father resents resulted in significant anxiety because I was unable to understand why he treated me like this and what I did to deserve it. My mother on the other hand, fed into the idea that I was overweight when I was in the 3rd grade. I was bullied as a kid, and I turned to her for guidance. I asked her if I was fat and she replied I should try to lose weight. I was 8 years old with no sense of self-worth or confidence to help me. Thus, the beginning of my ED. I began obsessively counting calories and gave myself self-loathing if I ate too much. By middle school, I was skinny and praised for it. When my school sent home a note that I was underweight my dad blamed me, my mom told me to ignore it, and I was content with my distraction. In high school, starving myself became exhausting because I played sports and my friends started to notice. My ED was my source of comfort to feel like I had a sense of control; I changed my habits to make sure no one noticed. Bulimia started my sophomore year of high school and has affected me ever since. Whenever I felt as though I didn’t have any control, I turned to binging and purging because that was something I could control and understand. Everything else in my life I couldn’t control so I held onto this with dear life. I’ve convinced myself that I could stop if I wanted to and that it really wasn’t that bad. This past Fall 2021 I admitted to a therapist that I was bulimic. She helped me see it from a different perspective. By controlling my body and everything that I put into it and forced out I could ignore the feeling of helplessness and anxiety I suffered with. I started to understand more and confront the underlying issues. Everyone who struggles with an eating disorder has their own unique story and is constantly being written. I believe eating disorders are an addiction, where once you have it, it’s a part of you forever. Instead of hating that part, I learned to appreciate her for trying to comfort me in times of trauma. I learned to understand my ED and derive lessons from this experience to expose the root causes of my anxiety. It is my passion and duty to illustrate my story and help others understand theirs. I learned from a young age that you truly have no idea what others are going through. I hid my bulimia from everyone for years. Being honest and open about these vulnerabilities and traumas will help erase the stigmas of eating disorders. My goal is to uncover these truths about myself to emphasize we are all human and that’s okay. Honesty breaks down barriers and reveal our true selves. Uncomfortable truths promote growth. I can be an example for others to not take out the chaos and instability around you on yourself, but instead believe in yourself and question the world not yourself. That is how we as a society will grow and support one another.

My goal is to always strive to be a better, healthier, and wiser version of myself. My only competition is myself in 10 years. I do not like to compete with others or compare myself to anyone else other than the future version of myself I hope to be. With that in mind, my goal of myself in ten years is to be on the partner track at the public accounting firm I will be starting with in the Fall of 2022. It is an ambitious goal to want to make partner at a firm, nonetheless in only ten years, however I have high expectations for myself and know I have what it takes to excel in the business world. I thoroughly enjoy working with people and being a leader to navigate though problems and come to a solution. The steps I will take to achieve this goal include spending my first couple of years at the firm learning all of the basics and technical skills necessary to build the foundation that I will grow from. I will also focus on meeting as many people as possible in this industry and hearing their stories and advice, because personal experience is truly the best way to learn from. I cannot wait to see how these next ten years pan out and hope to make my 'ten- years-from-now' self proud!

Failure is the key to success. This lesson was tough to swallow because the first part of it is accepting you failed at something which is not always easy to do when you are headstrong and believe you are on the right path. However, once you get past that first part and admit defeat, if you are able to get back up and try again that right there is success all on its own. Being a successful person can be defined in a plethora of ways, but a way that I prefer is always getting back up and trying again when life knocks you down. This may be just once or it may be every day. When you understand that failure is actually a beautiful life lesson that tests you and your perseverance, nothing can stop you from pursuing your dreams. I was taught this lesson during my college career at the first school I attended. I initially started out at Cornell University studying the chemistry of wine because my family owned a winery. Everything was going smooth until my third year my parents got divorced and my father told me I would never be able to work at the winery with him when I graduated. This caused me to spiral into a bit of a depression and I found myself not able to continue my semester because I did not see the point of continuing my college career if everything I had worked for was ultimately for nothing. I left Cornell after that semester and felt like a failure. I did not know what to do because I had been on a set path for so long, the unknown was scary. I spent a couple of months allowing myself the time and space to fully accept what had happened and heal from the hurt of it all. After that I decided to get back up and try again. I applied to Temple University and started out on a new journey. I never would have thought years ago that I would be graduating with an accounting degree and starting a career in public accounting soon, however that is the beauty of life, you never know what to expect. I am forever grateful to have gained the skills necessary to persevere and keep trying even though I was knocked down a couple of times. The hardest part of life is getting back up and having the courage to try again. It is easier to stay down and not try again. Putting yourself out there is to be vulnerable which some view as weak when in reality it is a tremendous strength to allow yourself to be susceptible to any kind of harm. I understand now that to fail and get knocked down is one of life's most precious gifts because I am given the opportunity to learn and grow so that when I get back up I am stronger and more courageous than ever to be able to tackle the next thing that life has to offer.

When I was about 5 years old, I remember my older sister being very sick all of the time and constantly visiting her in the hospital. I didn't realize at the time what was going on, I just understood that if my sister didn't get better I would lose her. My sister was suffering from a rare genetic blood disorder that would have killed her if not for having surgery and numerous of blood transfusions. Luckily years later and I still have my sister by my side. Since then, I have always wanted to give back in some way to the world to show how grateful I am that I didn't lose my sister. During my time at high school I decided to start donating my blood through blood donations that were held at my school. This was a challenge for me because I absolutely hate needles, but I figured this was a small price to pay to be able to provide necessary blood for someone in need. I kept thinking to myself maybe I am saving someone else's sister, and that was all of the motivation I needed to continue donating blood every 8 weeks. I found out that this past year 2021, American Red Cross had a record low donation supply of blood platelets which are the most valuable type of donation because they are used to help cancer patients. Therefore, I have switched to donating blood platelets which is a two hour process of pumping blood out of you, have your platelets removed from your blood and then pumped back into you. Obviously with my fear of needles it has been an adjustment but it is always worth it knowing I am helping save someone's loved one as people had saved mine with their donations.

As someone who has struggled with ADHD, finding study strategies that work is key to my success in not only my scholastic endeavors, but also for establishing my future work ethic in my professional career. A few habits that I have picked up include taking 5 minute mindfulness breaks every 30-45 minutes. This allows me to process whatever work I was completing or text that I was reading and reflect on the material. These mindfulness break should include drinking some water, getting up from your desk and walking around a bit or stretching to get your blood flowing. Another study strategy I have successfully developed is to take notes from reading a textbook in an outline structure for optimal studying later on. I go through the key learning objectives/ essential questions asked at the end of the chapter, and format my notes with these objectives and questions so as I read the chapter I answer the questions. This helps to emphasize the key points within the chapter without excessively writing too many notes. Lastly, the most efficient strategy that I have adopted into my daily study routine is to create a schedule and to-do list. In the beginning of every semester I take all of my syllabi and copy the due dates onto an excel sheet for each class, color coding the classes and organizing the assignments by week. This will then provide you with a weekly to-do list so you never forget a due date or assignment!

“You never fail until you stop trying.” These words said by Albert Einstein have been my inspiration throughout my entire college career. For the past 6 years I have been pursuing a higher level of education and I have arrived at my senior year at Temple University pursuing a Bachelor’s degree in Accounting with a minor in Management Information Systems. My path to arrive at my senior year was not as straight as one who studies accounting might hope for. In fact, I started this adventure at Cornell University pursuing a degree in chemistry in hopes of taking over a family business. As my time at this academic institution progressed, around my junior year I struggled with depression and mental health. I had no idea what my purpose in life was and questioned every decision I had ever made. Ultimately, I decided to take a leave of absence in hopes of rediscovering my love of education and passion in life, whatever that may be. I used to view myself as a failure from leaving my dream school I had worked so hard to get into, and then I decided to stop feeling sorry for myself and get back up off the ground so-to-speak and try again. I am proud of my unusual college journey because I never stopped trying to advance myself with a degree and never gave up throughout the years. The best thing one can do for themselves is to not be afraid of failure, but actually appreciate it for the lessons it teaches you and rise every time failure knocks you down. With this mindset I have been able to adapt and learn how to develop myself to succeed in my future endeavors and hope to be a role model for others when facing failure.

Joy is the sun waking you up. Joy is breathing in and exhaling all the things in life that were holding you back. Joy is looking at your surroundings and finding beauty in things you least expected to. Joy is choosing the harder path and realizing you actually could get through it. Joy is being so close to others that when you aren’t around them you feel it in your soul. Joy is the sound of laughter. Joy is the inexplicable sense of belonging when you hug someone you love. Joy is driving with the windows down and feeling the wind in your hair. Joy is feeling pain yet being grateful for the lessons it provides you. Joy is being appreciated and respected. Joy is closing your eyes at a concert and feeling all of the energy around you. Joy is diving into the ocean and coming up for air. Joy is what makes life worth living. Joy is feeling at peace with yourself. Joy is me.

“You never fail until you stop trying.” These words said by Albert Einstein have been my inspiration throughout my entire college career. For the past 6 years I have been pursuing a higher level of education and I have come to my senior year at Temple University pursuing a Bachelor’s degree in Accounting with a minor in Management Information Systems. My path to arrive at my senior year was not as straight as one who studies accounting might hope for. In fact, I started this adventure at Cornell University pursuing a degree in chemistry in hopes of taking over a family business. As my time at this academic institution progressed, around my junior year I struggled immensely with depression and mental illness. I had no idea what my purpose in life was and questioned every decision I had ever made up to that point. Ultimately, I decided to take a leave of absence from this school in hopes of rediscovering my love of education and passion in life, whatever that may be. I used to view myself as a failure from leaving my dream school I had worked so hard to get into, and then I decided to stop feeling sorry for myself and get back up off the ground so-to-speak and try again. I landed on accounting because I had always had a love for math and numbers and understanding meaning behind the numbers. In the fall of 2019 I began my journey at Temple University in Philadelphia, PA and fell in love with the industry. I was hired for an audit internship at PricewaterhosueCoopers, during my junior year and offered a full-time job with the firm when I graduate. I plan is to pursue a career in public accounting as an auditor and attain my CPA license to become an expert and promote my career development. This scholarship will allow me the opportunity to sit for the four part CPA exam and ultimately achieve my goal of exceling in public accounting as a woman in the corporate world. I am proud of my unusual college journey because I never stopped trying to advance myself with a degree and never gave up throughout the years. The best thing one can do for themselves is to not be afraid of failure, but actually appreciate it for the lessons it teaches you and rise every time failure knocks you down. With this mindset I have been able to adapt and learn how to develop myself to succeed in my future endeavors and hope to one day become partner at the accounting firm I will start at when I graduate to be a role model for others when facing failure.