I practice self-care by doing things to actively change whatever situation I am in. Whether it's putting away a few items every day until my room is clean, or cutting my hair when I find myself growing increasingly frustrated trying to manage it. I used to think that I needed to take drastic steps in order to feel better, like cleaning everything all at once. And it prevented me from accomplishing things because the pressure to finish it the same day was too much for me to handle. This mentality took a toll on my mental health because it hindered any progress I could have made, and I knew that I needed to do something to change that. So I started doing something small whenever I felt the sudden urge to get my life together. If my room was a mess, I would pick up 1-10 items and put them away. Sometimes I don't do anything at all, and that's okay because I understand that I'm not at my best every single day. For me, practicing self-care meant accepting that anything worth doing was worth doing badly. Walking for 5-10 minutes a day is still better than wanting to go on a run but deciding not to because 'it's not the right time'. This form of self-care has helped improve my life significantly because I've stopped feeling guilty about not being able to accomplish everything within the ridiculous deadlines I used to set for myself. And now, I'm able to enjoy life at a more leisurely pace without feeling anxious.

Throughout my life, I thought of myself as a sort of loner because I struggled to make friends and it didn't help that my parents were constantly uprooting us immediately after we settled. And as a result, I assumed that I wasn't good at talking to people. But over the years, I've come to realize that that could not be further from the truth because I was in fact good at talking to people--great even. I just never realized this because I never had a chance to find out. After joining some extracurriculars like cross country, track, and Girls Who Code, I found myself in uncomfortable situations where I had no choice but to talk to those around me. And when I finally did, I felt like a weight had been lifted off of my back. Over time, I became more comfortable in social settings and managed to conquer my insecurities, namely the ones that told me I wasn't interesting or funny enough to make friends. I've learned that I'm capable of more than I give myself credit for and that the only reason I think I'm not good at something is that I never gave myself a chance to improve because I didn't want to "fail". But after accepting that failure is better than never trying, I was able to learn more about myself and push my limits. Having experienced that awkward feeling of wanting to fit in but being scared to approach new people allowed me to become more aware of other people's feelings. I used to sit in the corner trying to erase myself from social settings and now I'm the one approaching other people when I notice that they're feeling awkward or uncomfortable.

My rock collection motivates me because each and every stone represents a cherished memory I have of my friends and family. My family moved frequently throughout my childhood and it was difficult for me to cope with losing friends so often and having to start from scratch, in an unfamiliar place surrounded by unfamiliar people. I began collecting rocks as a child to preserve the memories I had of my friends and family, it was my way of keeping the people and places I loved with me no matter where I was. My rock collection is comprised of stones from all over the world: Nepal, Maryland, South Dakota, Kentucky, and Tennessee. One of my favorite rocks is a smooth Unakite stone, an emerald-colored surface with golden flecks because whenever I look at it I'm reminded of my friend's eyes beaming back at me. Any time I am feeling overwhelmed or anxious about life, I look at my rocks and let all of the happy memories wash away my troubles. My rocks are a constant source of comfort and motivation that have been traveling with me around the world for the past decade. When I look at my collection, I'm reminded of everyone I've loved that has supported and guided me throughout my life. And I can't help but feel motivated to succeed knowing that I have all of my friends and family cheering me on in spirit.

“Nothing of me is original. I am the combined effort of everyone I’ve ever known” wrote Chuck Palahnuik. I think of this quote often, especially when I’m outside collecting rocks. My rock collection has slowly been growing over the past decade and it all started when a friend gifted me one from her collection before my family immigrated to America. After we immigrated to America, I figured my family would settle down and spread roots like everyone around us had done. However, we continued moving across the country, and I was forced to find new friends and navigate unfamiliar environments. I resented my parents because of this and wished that they would leave me behind so I wouldn’t have to say goodbye to my friends and my home. When we moved from Maryland to South Dakota, I was too young to understand and so I carried on as though nothing had happened. But after living in South Dakota for 5 years and growing up in that environment, my parents decided it was time for us to move again. In the weeks leading up to our departure, I spent almost every waking hour outdoors just so I could ingrain all the details in my brain. Even now I can still recall the lazy afternoons I spent searching for caterpillars in the milkweed and tramping through the cattails by the river as my dad fished. During our last visit to the river, I decided to search for a keepsake, something to remind me of my time in South Dakota. I waded through the water until my pockets were brimming with stones. And I did the same thing during my last school field trip, my last bike ride through the neighborhood, and my last walk through the woods. The morning of our departure had arrived and I had collected at least 25 stones, each one representing a different memory. My favorite from my collection is an emerald-green tumbled stone with brown flecks because every time I hold it, I’m reminded of my friend’s eyes beaming back at me. Collecting stones became my obsession because I knew that the people and places in my life would not last; the longest we’ve lived in one place was six years, and even now as that record approaches I’m about to move away for college. I’ve lost many friends over the years as a result of my family’s nomadic tendencies, and when my memories begin to fade, my rocks are all the evidence I need to prove that I was there and it was real. Like me, my rock collection is a result of the combined effort of the places and people I have encountered. And I'm forever grateful to have had the opportunity to experience so many new things and meet new people. Despite having many negative experiences with change, I've realized that change is simply the beginning of something and that means I get to choose whether that something is for better or for worse.

I grew up in a refugee camp in Nepal where women were discouraged from pursuing further education. I was only a child but expected to learn how to cook and clean for my future husband. My mother, however, had different plans and pushed me to pursue higher education when we immigrated to America. Once we had immigrated to America, my parents did not stay in one place for long. I avoided opening up to others and making friends because we moved around frequently, and I eventually had to leave them behind. Making new friends was difficult for me because I was a shy kid, and I was also one of the few colored students. Even when I did make friends, I felt isolated simply because my background and upbringing were so strikingly different from theirs. Throughout middle and high school, my parents pushed me to succeed academically but never allowed me to fail and learn from my mistakes. This pressure to be the perfect daughter and student made me afraid to ask for help and admit that I didn’t understand something. It took me years to grow out of this fear and begin voicing my questions because I had never struggled with any classes before Computational Thinking--where I was unfamiliar with the content. I had contemplated quitting and almost gave in to doubt before I joined Girls Who Code because I wasn’t sure if I belonged in the Computer Science Academy. I didn’t have any friends in the class, and I wasn’t used to struggling so much, so I thought that I wasn’t cut out for STEM. When I admitted my doubts and fears at a GWC meeting, the other members persuaded me to give computer science and myself another try. Computer science was the first class to challenge me, and I eventually grew to love it because it was engaging. Many of the obstacles I’ve faced as a refugee and immigrant have been internal, for example, my obsession with doing everything perfectly stemmed from my upbringing in an Asian immigrant household. And I’m thankful to have had the opportunity to fail at something because it helped me conquer my fear of being imperfect and showed me that I was capable of more than I had given myself credit for. However, I still lacked confidence, and multiple teachers expressed concern because of that. They gave me the push I needed to join the Louisville Girls Leadership club. I joined hoping to become confident and comfortable in myself, and to improve my public speaking skills. But I walked away with much more than that. I befriended several amazing girls from that program, and the issues we discussed during our meetings sparked my interest in activism and giving back to my community. I competed in the ASPEN Challenge later that year and had the opportunity to create a non-profit organization to solve an issue in my community. My teammates and I chose to help refugees and immigrants at Fern Creek become more involved in the community. The small grant we received allowed us to kick-off our organization, In2grated, and over a dozen ESL students attended the kick-off meeting. My experiences growing up inspired me to create In2grated with my teammates because it was an issue that we had a unique perspective on, and our community was more culturally diverse than other schools so it was the most effective idea to implement. We won an originality award and received further funding to continue our program. Unfortunately, we’ve had to postpone our meetings due to Covid-19 because our school district is one of the few that’s still online. I hope to use my experiences to create a support system to help other refugees and immigrants in my community discuss their mental health issues and fears without the stigma associated with them in so many immigrant households. The challenges I’ve experienced as a refugee and immigrant have given me a unique perspective. And I hope to use that to create a program that will help other refugees and immigrants destigmatize mental health in their families. I also hope to pursue a career in computer science and mentor young girls/POC to increase diversity in STEM and give them access to high-paying jobs that they otherwise may not have considered.