I grew up in an environment of violence, racism and financial instability. But of all of my traumas, one of the worst was when in 2019, I was raped several times by my partner while he was in manic state and high on marijuana. I was scared as I said no, kicking and pushing while he stripped me down. Since then, I have worked with a therapist to find and form healthy human connections and transform passion and pain into motivation. Although imperfect, I learned to use my sensitivity to be empathetic but finally set boundaries for myself, rather than allowing sensitivity to be my kryptonite. Slowly but surely, I’ve been healing. I strive to inspire and empower as I have been by my coaches, coworkers, and professors throughout my life. Because worldwide, we still have femicide, rape, trafficking, genital mutilation, and healthcare discrepancies worse than ours. When I become a doctor, I want to do what I can to protect young girls, women, and kids from the violations against their bodies and minds, to help them be empowered enough to know what they deserve as human beings. When I look at my little cousins, these smiling, brave little girls, they become my purpose. To guide them, educate them, and to protect them, that is what I’m here to do. With girls who have been neglected and abused, suddenly I see them as family too. Despite all of the pain and trauma, deep down, I still have hope and optimism that somehow I can change a little girl’s fate one day by providing her with love and opportunities. I have a purpose, and my purpose makes me a force to be reckoned with, even on days my struggles and sensitivity will keep me hardworking and humble.

Confidence is faith in yourself and your abilities to overcome and succeed. Even if you are shaken to your core, even if life has beaten and battered you, confidence allows you to take more. More lessons, more pain, and more growth. Choosing confidence can help you go far. I remember in March, I had given into fear, doubt, and the feeling I was an imposter. "What am I doing here?" I thought. "A weak, low ranked, junior college kid against Division I and Division II athletes." From the beginning, my mentality set up for failure. Surrounded by spectators, I was shaking, unable to keep my head up, let alone step into the hammer ring. I never wanted to feel that shame again. Despite injury, exhaustion, and problems at home, I went to practice and engrained the movements into my body. I worked with my sports psychiatrist to build up my focus, heal from personal traumas, and maintain my anxieties. Over time, my self-love and sense of self-worth started to manifest as I began defending myself against abuse and walking away from negative relationships, surrounding myself with support and positivity instead. But at end of the day, it was up to me to perform and be confident in myself and my abilities. I had survived rape, abuse, bullying, and dug myself out of depression time and time again. I had worked hard to get to where I was academically, mentally, and physically and no matter what happened, I fought, I overcame and I grew. As long as I continue to grow into someone I am proud of, I have a right to be confident in my own skin. It was with this realization and self-assurance that I finished season in ninth in hammer throws for Northern California at the State Qualifier.

“Remember when I said that D1 is too far a reach? Well I was wrong, you can do this. I believe in you. I’m sorry.” I believe in you. I’m sorry. Those are the words I never knew I needed. I broke down when my coach hugged me tight, as I sobbed sad, anxious, angry, and disappointed by my inability to perform. Growing up, my parents never apologized directly to me whenever they made me feel fear, pain, or inadequate. They are extremely traditional Vietnamese, believing in old school discipline and obedience from thin, smart young girls who never talked back or questioned them. Kids who did were met with the retaliation of verbal and physical abuse. I lived in fear of my family so I ended up letting opportunities pass by in arts and athletics and my well being suffered. My dad’s distrust in others, his anger issues, his misunderstanding of the college system, and his gambling addiction made him a violent terror. Mom was unhappy and often took out her insecurities and issues on me which worsened with the weight I gained to cope with my emotions. Between the deaths, bullies, and my familial issues, I lived with an intense, numbing depression that screamed for me to give up. But one day in sophomore year, I decided something had to change and I decided to lose some weight. That’s when my friend told me about track. Ironically, I had to fight my parents for the opportunities to be let out of the house and play a sport, volunteer, and take college classes in high school. Until I found track and field, I had no escape from my reality and the pressure they make me feel to succeed despite being my biggest roadblock for the longest time. But as I grew up, I began to recognize the depths of my parents’ traumas as war refugees and the culture that made them who they are. I am their first child, the first born American, and first to go to college. Their world is on my shoulders and I spread myself thin to carry the weight. I am now a working Juco athlete intending to transfer to UC Davis Fall 2022 under Global Disease Biology to work towards medical school. Due to our financial struggles over the pandemic, I had to step up to help out my mom, my brother, and find ways to save money for the upcoming transfer. For almost three years, my schedule was packed from 6 am to 10pm, 7 days a week. I spent so much time working at sushi restaurants, skilled nursing hospitality, volunteering at high schools and medical facilities, full time schooling, and taking care of my family that I had to put my sport to the side. Because of the obligations I felt like I had for my family and my athletic mediocracy, my coach told me that I had to be realistic about my D1 dreams. This year, I realized how much athletics meant to me and I have been working hard to get the opportunity to train with the UC Davis throws team. Though it is likely too late, the lessons I’ve learned over this season have taught me major lessons in bravery, the importance of balance, and has pushed me to be a more confident version of myself. Because of being a working student athlete, I have learned what hard work and passion is. I have learned what it means to want to succeed as much as I want to breathe and I never want to let myself down again. I know I can do it. I can get into medical school. I can make it as an unattached athlete. I can do it because I have set my mind to it and knowing I fought for it will always be better than regretting that I never did. As I approach the end of my season at the JUCO level, I take responsibility for giving up. But instead of being stuck, I am choosing grow and look ahead to my next play. Medical school and being an unattached hammer thrower are my next goals in life. For the rest of my degree, I want to just focus on school, joining medical research, the MCATs, scholarships, and learning how to heal from the generational trauma I have faced so I can be a better human being, a better doctor, and a mentor for young girls seeking opportunities just like me.