For as long as I can remember, I struggled to identify myself by my name: “Victoria”, a name that carries a promise to its holder. A promise that whoever has it will be forever victorious, meaning a person will stay in a state of triumph and success no matter what. I felt like I kept breaking that promise. There are moments in life when another’s words can lodge themselves deep within your mind and become the same words that shape your own perceived self-worth. This moment for me happened when a girl, who was one of my close friends at the time, said, “Your name means victory, but you don’t win anything.” I became prey to that statement for years. It waited to pounce after every mistake to remind me that I failed yet again to live up to my namesake. The pressure to prove myself worsened in 11th grade, the year that rerouted my life. The summer before I developed a mysterious illness, lost 40lbs, and when school began, I could barely walk to class. Weeks later, I was hospitalized and missed the first quarter of school all to be diagnosed with a chronic condition. I laid in a hospital bed, struggling to process the reality of my situation. My weakened self could no longer do things that I thought defined me. My status as a model student, varsity tennis player, and involvement in the community were all gone. I felt defeated. One day, I became overwhelmed by the weight of my suffering and feeling like a burden. I broke down. My nurse came over and sat with me. She shared my namesake. However, the burden of it did not seem to affect her, instead she embodied compassion and determination. Victoria was not “victorious” because she never struggled, she was victorious because she met suffering with positivity. She became someone who would restore my hope and give me the strength for healing. She comforted me in my time of need and her reassuring words rebuking my anxiety shifted my perspective. The name “Victoria” was no longer about never falling, but about always rising back up. With her encouragement, I began to rebuild myself, mentally and physically. I completed months of physical therapy, caught up on all my missed schoolwork, and learned to advocate for my health.I also sought therapy, and found joy in small activities like puzzles, cooking, and doing art. Just as I was adjusting back at school, I caught strep throat and was hospitalized again during midterms. During that stay, I had to advocate for my own health and describe my pain to medical staff. I got over that and returned to my normal activities. Then in April, the doctors found a lump in my back that tested positive for lymphoma. I received the news the same day I received my admission into a competitive MIT summer program. I was back in the hospital – back at square one. This crushed me, but this time I knew I would not get better unless my attitude did. I was determined to attend the MIT program in Massachusetts. With my mom and oncologist’s help we came up with a treatment plan that would allow me to do just that. To offset the chemo every week, my mom and I did activities like painting or trying new foods to find fun between treatments. This really helped my mental health, and I understood that resilience is not forcing strength but finding the light in dark times. My experiences at the MIT program shaped how I show up for others. I am often one of the only Black girls in my classes. I have felt isolated and excluded. I understand how much diverse representations matter. With this in mind, I like to volunteer with outreach organizations that support children of color pursuing careers in STEM. I host activities at Palmer Monroe Teen Center, I have helped with TFLA STEM days, participated in the junior chapter of National Society for Black Engineers, and done work with STEMS for girls. Uplifting them feels like I am returning the kindness I received when I needed it the most. Today I understand that mistakes do not take away from me but they add to me, shaping the person I become. Now, for me, victory is not about eternal triumph, but resilience and authenticity. It’s about the strength to keep going and to ask for help when needed. I can say that I live up to my namesake. “Hi, I am Victoria.” Victoria rises up again every time she falls.

A time when I prioritized my mental and physical health was my 11th grade year. In September I was admitted to the hospital for kidney failure after battling an unknown illness the summer before. Eventually, I was diagnosed with a rare autoimmune disease. I spent weeks recovering in the hospital. Some days I could not get out of bed. This experience taught me a lot about myself and approaching life. While in the hospital, I had to come to terms with living with a chronic condition and had to learn to prioritize my health. My mental health plummeted. My prior status as a model student, varsity tennis player, and involvement in the community were all gone. Before I defined my worth in my abilities academically and physically so when I entered a period where I could not attend school or even walk, I lost my self-worth. Being in that state was draining and I did not want to lose my entire self at 15. So, I found things I loved to fill my day. I sought professional help to talk through the fact that I am still me even if I could not do all the activities I used to. I learned to have joy in the little things and to not be afraid to try new things. This taught me that when I feel well mentally I have more strength to do well physically. I focused mainly on improving my physical health in the hospital. I recovered and returned to school after weeks of physical therapy. When I got back to school, I had to initiate makeup work and manage my time carefully to stay on track. I learned time-management and to watch my body for signs of illness. Just as I was adjusted, I caught strep throat and was hospitalized again during midterms. During the stay, I had to advocate for my own health, describe my pain to medical staff, and let people know when my body cannot handle any more activity. In April, the doctors found a lump in my back that tested positive for lymphoma. I received the news the same day I received my admission into a competitive MIT summer program. I was back in the hospital – back at square one. This crushed me, but this time I knew I would not get better unless my attitude did. I was determined to attend the MIT program in Massachusetts. With my mom and oncologist’s help we came up with a treatment plan that would allow me to do just that. To offset the chemo every week, my mom and I did activities like painting or trying new foods to find fun between treatments. This really helped my mental health. These experiences taught me to pay attention to my body and prioritize my health over any academic assessment. Also, they taught me that resilience isn’t about just pushing through any adversity, but knowing when to rest, ask for help, and keep joy during dark times. As I enter college and my future career in bioengineering, I bring with me lessons of time-management, self-advocacy, and work-fun balance. I now know that I can overcome challenges, but I should not lose myself in the process.