Four years of involvement in wrestling have pushed me towards a health-related field such as dietetics. Changing weight classes and living in a different body each year has been stressful, but I’ve learned that fueling properly will always be more important than being smaller or making a lower weight class. I want to help grow the popularity of women's wrestling by tackling the primary reason girls are kept out of the sport: the food and nutrition side. Wrestling has built a bad reputation due to many male wrestlers cutting tons of weight to compete at the highest level. These awful weight cuts are no secret. Recently, many coaches have agreed that girls should be at their natural weight to wrestle their best. I, too, believe this. I feel so much stronger when I make sure I’m getting my macro- and micronutrients through meals rather than barely eating or drinking water. I want to prevent female wrestlers from developing disordered eating; therefore, I want to become a dietitian. ​____________________________________________________________________________________________________ My mother has taught me what it means to truly be empathetic, which is important to understanding the lives and perspectives of others. Since the beginning, I’ve always seen her put others before herself and open up her mind to understanding why people feel the way they do. Everyone experiences life differently, and it takes so much to try and understand where someone is coming from. Especially in the medical field, no one can be treated the same as another person and expect the same results. Treating with one medicine may worsen the healing experience of another. Assuming one type of treatment works for everyone is completely invalid. This kind of thinking doesn’t build empathy, which is wholeheartedly important to me. It's also important to build relationships with the people I will treat. This has attracted me to the idea of helping others. Building connections and relationships, as well as using my knowledge in nutrition, will allow me to help vulnerable groups, like people with eating disorders. Eating disorders exist on a vast spectrum, and no two people’s experiences are the same. The most important thing I can do for my patients is to listen to their experiences. By keeping an open mind, as my mother taught me, I will be better able to find solutions that can help them through their disorder. Whether it's bulimia or anorexia, my base will be similar: offering a safe space for conversation and my own attempt at understanding how they go through life. Even though my base is similar for each person, treatment and recovery will be vastly different for everyone. Prioritizing the patient and their feelings will rehumanize them, especially since eating disorders are primarily mental and behavioral rather than physical conditions. The worst thing one can do for someone living through an eating disorder is to criminalize or place blame upon them. This will postpone treatment and make eventual recovery harder. I believe the empathy I have learned from my mother, tied to my love of wrestling, has made empathy one of my top values. Eventually, when I become a dietician, I’ll be able to help people find the balance between health and wellness, using my understanding that people have differing needs and providing the most important thing to people recovering from an eating disorder: empathy.

Opposites attract, at least it does in the science world. The positive is pulled by the negative back and forth, until an eventual equilibrium is reached, but my parents have shown me that this saying doesn’t hold true. My father is a conservative Puerto Rican man who grew up in New York City, which is, in his own words, “an absolute shit show.” My mother, a white woman, doesn’t engage in politics, but confesses to me that she has liberal values. I’ve seen how different ideas tear people apart, not just in my own house, but in the real world. The polar opposite ideas of my mother and father have taught me the most valuable lesson I could take away from them: Everyone lives their life with more complexity than they think. The term for this is “sonder.” I first realized this during my freshman year in a history class. The repetitive first day of school icebreakers led me to tell the class that I grew up in New York City, but recently moved to the small suburb of New Berlin. The teacher asked me, "How's the New Berlin bubble?” This question has stuck with me. Since then, I’ve had the same conversation with both of my parents many different times. My mother has taught me what it means to truly be empathetic, which is important to understanding the lives and perspectives of others. Everyone experiences life differently, and it takes so much to try and understand where someone is coming from. Especially when it comes to understanding people I don’t agree with, such as my father. Any time I talk with him, I feel like I’m walking on eggshells. I’m not trying to break them; rather, I carefully step my way through in order to reach his thoughts. Sometimes the idea of him being ignorant will start to creep in, but that defeats the idea that people’s minds are four-dimensional. Simply reducing our disagreements to him being ignorant doesn’t take his upbringing into consideration. This kind of thinking doesn’t build empathy, which is wholeheartedly important to me. My father and I have grown up in dissimilar environments. The struggles his parents faced influence the way he thinks today, heavily affecting the way he views the world and what he sees as right and wrong. Understanding the concept of people’s development and experiences is what builds empathy within oneself. The contrasts of my parents' ideas have shaped the way I see the world. My values are progressive because of the struggles I’ve witnessed while growing up, while the suburbs have shown me how privileged some people go through life while sharing neighborhoods with people who aren’t. If I were never forced out of my place of solace, surrounded by people who agree with me, my curiosity and empathy wouldn't run as deep. The differing ideologies of my parents, tied to living in contrasting communities, have drawn me towards the idea of sonder. I truly believe being raised in an environment that could have been polarizing has caused me to recognize complexities. My upbringing has taught me that culture is a fusion of experiences. This has attracted me to the idea of helping others. Food and nutrition have become a significant part of my life, whether it comes to my cultural identity or fueling myself properly for my sports. By becoming a dietician, I’ll be able to help people find the balance between health and wellness, using my understanding that people have differing needs. Not every dish is made the same, and neither is every person.

It was officially post-season for wrestling, I took second in my regional after being tech-falled by a freshman and second again at sectionals, losing 8-2 in the finals. I lost to the same girl twice, but what were the chances I’d have to wrestle her again? Before the post-season, I had four long months of grueling practice. From the beginning of my third year wrestling, I knew my goal: to qualify for the state meet. I spent hours in the practice room from 3:15-5:30 with my team Monday through Friday, and then an extra 30 minutes after every practice with the coaches practicing my technique. After being one of the few girl wrestlers on my team for three consecutive years, I constantly compared myself to my male teammates, and I never felt that I was getting any better. Being beaten on by my male teammates, especially during live goes, was starting to make me believe I wouldn’t be able to meet my goal. As the season progressed, I took this thought as a way to drive me to work harder leading up to the postseason. My regional matches were normal, up until my semi-finals match. I was going up against a ranked girl. I was incredibly nervous because she was ranked. I started to doubt myself, leading me to lose 18-3 in the third period. I took second place, now I was worried about the next week at sectionals. If I lost to her once, what are the chances I’ll beat her? This question pushed me to drill even harder the next week. Sectionals came soon after, and I had to wrestle her once again in the semi-finals, mirroring what happened at regionals. I put my foot on the line, shook her hand, and wrestled hard for six minutes. Although I ended up losing again, 8-3, I became even hungrier. Both of us were now state qualifiers, but I’d be wrestling her soon again up at the Khol Center. Once I reached the blood rounds at the state meet, I knew I couldn’t lose again. This thought lit a fire under me. My first match on the back side of the bracket was a first-period pin. My coach hugged me, and then told me to look at the bracket. It was her again. My mind started to race, I thought I was done. I took a deep breath, put my AirPods in, and started to warm up for my next match. I’ve lost to her twice at this point, knowing this could be my last match in Madison, I wanted to leave everything out on the mat. My foot on the line for possibly the last time shook her hand, and began. The match was 1-1 across the board, we went into overtime, I saw how much this mentally broke her because she had already beaten me twice before. She took a lazy shot and I got the takedown. In a big upset, the 12th seed beat the sixth seed. Finally, a wave of relief hit me. I finally won. Not only did I make the podium, but I learned that every time I’d come so close, it would make the success feel even better. All the challenges I’d faced up until this point had prepared me to wrestle in one of the hardest matches I’d have all season. The constant unfair comparison of myself to my teammates was proven wrong. Looking back, I’d never bet money on winning that match, but I’ve learned sometimes it's better to bet on the underdog.

My first year of high school was a year of self-exploration. I just finished up my last Volleyball season after realizing how much I hated both school and club volleyball. I soon made plans to be a manager for my school’s wrestling team just for fun, but things didn’t turn out the way I initially planned it. My dad didn’t want me to be a manager, he wanted me to join the team. This wouldn’t be the first time I was a girl in a male-dominated sport. Throughout elementary school, I played football at recess with guys my age, later developing into joining flag football in middle school. Since COVID-19, I moved away and no longer had access to playing football. I missed being pushed to do better by my male teammates. My parents have always supported me in trying new things, but they were extra supportive of me joining wrestling. The first few practices were awkward. I had no clue what I was doing, and I felt that everyone else around me was so much better. This caused me to start staying after practice. First, it would be an extra five minutes, then 15, 20, and eventually, half an hour after every practice to practice my takedowns and shot defense. November and December flew by fast, only now was the hard part starting. January and February were grueling; drilling and going live, and people beginning to quit left and right. These months taught me how to fight on my own and push through pain I’ve never felt. I didn’t attend the state meet, but I wanted to return better. During my sophomore year, I took things seriously. This wasn’t a hobby for me, it became my new way of life. I started cross country that year to get conditioned before the rest of my teammates, and it worked. I learned that I enjoyed running as a hobby. Wrestling also made me realize I wanted to get stronger in the gym. Not only did wrestling teach me how to work hard, but it also made me realize I wanted to better myself and help others. One of my coaches realized this and started leadership lessons for me and a few teammates. Because of these lessons, I’ve learned to better speak up for myself and advocate for things I believe in. Since then I’ve led my teammates through practices, and almost become a mini coach, and it has helped me come out of my shell a lot more than I did my first year of wrestling. Overall, the lessons I’ve learned on and off the mat have proved that wrestling is a way of life. I’m stronger physically and emotionally than the little girl playing football for fun. I wish I had someone back then to look up to. If I did, I think I would have found myself and my confidence sooner. Although I didn’t meet my goal of making it to state, this made me realize that I have two more years to do what I truly signed myself up for; to inspire young girls and women to try the hard things. I want to make it up to the state meet to prove that with time, effort, challenge, and ambition anything can be done.