My dream of helping people started when I was young, I had listened to a close friend's problem and when she was done, I saw the relief spreading across her face. I knew then and there that I wanted to spend the rest of my life seeing that look on a person's face when they felt truly understood and heard. The years following that experience were spent gathering information on mental health, whether it be through classes I took, experiences with my own mental health providers, or researching books and articles. Through this research, I discovered how I wanted to help people in my career. Social work is my highest calling because it allows me to reach people from all walks of life, and with that path I can make mental health services affordable and accessible to all. I am pursuing a master's degree in social work to obtain a license for clinical social work. With this degree, I plan to work alongside other experienced social workers and mental health professionals to open my own practice geared towards adolescents and young adults. A safe space that practices patience, acceptance, and kindness is absolutely necessary for those who are struggling. I plan to make this space possible by my own hands. The social work degree will allow me access into the school system, hospital system, and non-profit programs, so that I have the most outreach possible. Money is a big stressor, especially for those who are going through mental crises, so being readily accessible and in line with programs that allow for free and reduced mental health care is incredibly important to me, and my aspirations. Working with volunteer agencies has given me the sparkling opportunity to connect with in-need individuals on a personal level. The local soup kitchen in middle school particularly stands out to me, as I found so much joy in meeting and assisting people in the community. The sisterhood of the soup kitchen is something I will never forget. Working with the Salvation Army presented me with connection to local mental healthcare providers, as many social workers would come to get clothes for children/adults under their caseload, or to donate clothes they no longer needed. I have started to work with the PEAK health and wellness club on my campus to promote mental health awareness, as well as networking with individuals who are already in that line of work. Assisting peers on campus allows me to learn more about mental health in the modern day. Another benefit is connecting with peers who have the same goals as me, and sharing our ideas to create fully-formed aspirations. I am also in contact with multiple social work agencies, which has allowed me to understand the responsibilities of social workers, as well as how agencies are ran under NASW (National Association-Social Workers) guidelines. My own experiences with social workers and mental health professionals are my guiding light for what I want to do with my career. I want to help those who feel like they cannot be helped, and to do this I have gathered all the resources I can to aid me on my journey. Accessibility, knowledge, and passion continue to guide me as I discover more about the mental healthcare world, and build a repertoire of people and ideals to include in my own mental health practices.

The waiting room stunk of moth balls and old magazines, smiling faces plastered on the cover of "Food Network" and "Cosmo" seemed to stare into my soul. Waiting for a psychiatrist to pop out of the door marked "enter" drained the life out of me. As my knees wobbled, I thought of what they might tell me, I wondered if I could be helped, or if I was even deserving of it. The door swung open, and I heard my name drawl out of a bored nurse's mouth. With a heavy heart, I shuffled to the door. I received my diagnosis of severe depression, anxiety, and PTSD three days after my twelfth birthday. It was hard to swallow, as I had always knew that I processed emotions differently than my peers, but I didn't quite understand why. Through years of therapy, different medications, and practicing self-care, I have been able to slowly accept my mental illnesses, and began the process of working through traumatic moments in my life. The decision to work through past trauma is a grueling one, as I prepared to be frazzled and uncomfortable in everything I did. It takes tremendous strength to combat previous coping mechanisms and begin to work towards healthier ones, and this journey is never linear. In my journey, I lost many of my closest friends and family members who were not ready to face their experiences. My mother was my biggest loss, as she didn't have the mental fortitude to work through the painful experiences inflicted on her by my father, who was the main aggressor in my own life. The safety of home was lost and became a place of warfare, and I wondered if I could stay strong in my resolutions. Questioning my wellness venture eventually became the driving force for it with the help of my therapist, psychiatrist, and familial support system. I realized how loved I was, and it gave me the confidence to push through even the hardest of times. I noticed changes eight months into my journey, the world became brighter. I didn't feel alone in my mental struggles, I had strength I hadn't felt before. Actively practicing patience with myself was the key, and for the first time, I had hope. Nine months into my journey, one of my childhood friends attempted suicide, and the world went dark again. I spiraled, not being able to stop the freight train running through my body. I blamed myself for not being able to see the agony she was going through. With that, I came to a decision, I wanted to prevent other people from the anguish of mental illness; I wanted to assist them during their own times of need. The years following the near loss of my long-time friend were spent gathering information on mental health, whether it be through classes, experiences with mental health providers, or researching books and articles. Through this, I discovered how I wanted to help people in my career. Social work is my highest calling because it allows me to reach people from all walks of life, and with that path I can make mental health services accessible to all. Opening a safe space to begin the process of rehabilitating traumatized individuals gives me the hope to persevere. Everyday is a battle with my own mental struggles, and everyday I win against depression, anxiety, and PTSD. Mental health struggles surround the people I love most, and becoming a provider of support would be my highest honor. No journey is one dimensional, but having aid is necessary for a journey of learning.

Tuscumbia, Missouri, a small town with under two hundred people (double that for the amount of cows). Housed many beautiful people and bits of nature that I have yet to find anywhere else, but it also housed crippling amounts of poverty. Drug problems ran rampant in the community, children were neglected, some taken from their parents. It was not a perfect place, but my family did all we could to stay afloat. Dancing on the poverty line wasn't something I thought I'd reminisce on in my later years, but I was wrong. Being a young queer person in my hometown was not only taboo of the highest form, it was entirely unheard of. Tuscumbia is settled in a mid-southern part of Missouri, so just within reach of the bible belt. While the bible preaches love and acceptance, the residents of my town had anything but joy for queer individuals. They would shout to the hilltops about "sin" and "eternal damnation" for those who weren't like them. It forced me to become a shell of myself, and to play the part of someone "normal" for the people around me. It was agony not being able to express myself in any way. When social workers would visit many of the homes in my town, I felt the joy they brought with them. The relief on adult's faces, their children smiling at the thought of being able to afford more food, it inspired me. One specific social worker had came into town with a pride pin stuck to her bag, when I asked about it, she told me of the many resources available for queer people. I had no idea programs were made to assist queer individuals in exploring their identities outside of who they were "supposed to be." With her help, I was connected to other queer individuals and a multitude of mental health resources that I never thought I'd have access to. I intend to get my master's degree and my licensing to go into clinical social work. Reaching this goal would open many doors in the non-profit and aid side of social work. I intend to work with LGBTQ+ youth, as they need help just as much as anyone else. Making mental health care and assistance programs easily accessible and affordable to adolescents is the main goal in my career, this scholarship would help me get to that target. Social work presents many volunteer opportunities, and I pride myself on being an active part of the community, specifically with non-profit organizations and donations. I worked with the local soup kitchen in middle school, and found so much joy in meeting and assisting people in the community. The sisterhood of the soup kitchen is something I will never forget. Working with the Salvation Army was another volunteer opportunity that stood out to me, as many social workers would come to get clothes for children/adults under their caseload, or to donate clothes they no longer needed. I learned how diverse social work can be during my time there. LGBTQ+ youth need help from elder gays. With the Diva of Halo Legacy Scholarship, I can begin carving out spaces of safety, acceptance, and education that prioritizes accessibility and affordability for at-risk youth. It is so difficult to be told that the identity a person holds is not valid, not wanted, and taboo. By extension, that mindset can make so many feel worthless and no human being deserves to feel that way. I left Tuscumbia a long time ago, but without the help of social workers, I wouldn't have sought out my true potential.

The cabinet in the kitchen creaks as the social worker begins to rummage through the pantry. She had a kind smile when she walked through the door that put my shaking body at ease. Adrenaline pumping through my veins, my eyes follow her as she begins to make her way to my bedroom. My father, angry at the entire ordeal, waits until she is halfway down the hallway to threaten me. Soon, we hear my door shut, and he slings his arm over my shoulder. The social worker gently moves his arm off of me, and pulls me towards her. Without her blend of expertise and intuition, I would've been stuck in an abusive environment, she had saved me. I am pursuing a Master's Degree in Social Work to obtain a license for Clinical Social Work. With this degree, I plan to work alongside other experienced social workers and mental health professionals to open my own practice geared towards adolescents and young adults. A safe space that practices patience, acceptance, and kindness is absolutely necessary for those who are struggling. I plan to make this space possible by my own hands. The social work degree will allow me access into the school system, hospital system, and non-profit programs, so that I have the most outreach possible. Money is a big stressor, especially for those who are going through mental crises, so being readily accessible and in line with programs that allow for free and reduced mental health care is incredibly important to me, and my aspirations. I have started to work with the PEAK health and wellness club on my campus to promote mental health awareness, as well as networking with individuals who are already in that line of work. Working with peers on campus allows me to learn more about mental health in the modern day. Another benefit is connecting with peers who have the same goals as me, and sharing our ideas to create fully-formed aspirations. I am also in contact with multiple social work agencies, which has allowed me to understand the responsibilities of social workers, as well as how agencies are ran under NASW (National Association-Social Workers) guidelines. My own experiences with social workers and mental health professionals are my guiding light for what I want to do with my career. Making mental health services accessible and affordable for all youth is my goal, and to do this I have gathered all the resources I can to aid me on my journey. Accessibility, knowledge, and passion continue to guide me as I discover more about the mental healthcare world, and build a repertoire of people and ideals to include in my own mental health practices.

Anxiety has devoured me. Swallowed everything whole, my positive emotions, my joyous memories, my entire sense of self. It is unrelenting in pursual of its chosen victim, and does not stop until there is nothing left to take. It is methodic in taking over my brain, a small thought is suddenly screaming its way into a full-scale attack on my senses. The world begins to whirl around, my legs tremble as my knees lock into a tight, straight line. Heart pounding in my ears, I feel hot tears sliding down my cheeks. The only idea laying at the forefront of my mind is fear. Fear that something terrible is going to happen to me. My diagnosis was given to me almost two months after my first anxiety attack. My therapist, calm and concise in her words, explained to me that I was going to process stress differently than my peers, and that tasks other people could do with ease may be more difficult for me. At first, I didn't understand what she meant, until I was sent to a psychiatrist who began speaking about medicine options for me with my mother. I was only seven, sitting in the sterile white room, wondering why my mother looked so sad as she squeezed my hand. As time passed, my symptoms only grew, and I began to understand what my therapist had meant years ago. I would shake and cry before going to school, nervous at the thought of going. Trips to the hospital, the dentist's office, my dad's house, and the bright green soccer fields were all places that made my stomach churn with a vengeance. The "what if's?" filled my mind, and I found it difficult to move forward with anything in my life. Anxiety paralyzed me, leaving me in a state of limbo. I never wanted to leave my room in fear of something bad happening to me or one of my loved ones. The most agonizing experience was the lack of understanding from the people around me. They treated my mental illness like it was something to be conquered. Choruses of "you'll get over it" felt like chains hanging at my feet. It only made my anxiety worse to hear those words because I knew the reality of my mental illness, this was going to be something that lasted forever. But, anxiety has a funny way of forcing its victim to care about the opinions of other people, so I masked my true feelings in the years following. Masking, the act of covering up a mental illness, disorder, or type of neurodivergence, is incredibly dangerous to the person masking. This was a lesson that I learned after my first suicide attempt, my anxiety had progressed into another illness due to my masking. Children of the new age are more prone to anxiety and mental illness than any generation before. Many of these children come from homes that are living on or below the poverty line, as they have little access to resources. In getting my degree, I aim to create a mental health practice for underprivileged children and adolescents. Affordability and accessibility are my main drivers for this practice. Through my education, I will become better learned in social work and counseling techniques in order to provide proper support and treatment to clients. Within social work, I can get knowledge on assistance programs to make the idea for my practice a reality.

The first time I had an intrusive, dark thought. I was six years old, sitting on the plush rocking chair with my Nana, crying to her because my Dad had screamed at me. I could still feel the sting of his hand on the back of my thigh as I clung to her neck, wondering to myself, "Why me?" That single question to myself, most likely meant to stay unanswered, whirled into thousands of other thoughts. These thoughts comprised into one devastating idea, "I am not good enough." This singular belief, brought about by painful childhood experiences, changed my life in every way possible. All of my relationships have been influenced and affected by my mental health or the mental health of those I love. When my mental health is low, I withdraw, not wanting to bother my cherished friends and family. However, this just hurts the relationship more, as it seems like the person withdrawing doesn't care about the connection. This cycle can break down relationships and the people who are in it. It's a hardship that those who struggle with mental illness endure as they navigate the ups and downs of their psyche. As for the mental health of others, seeing someone I love in distress can bring so much pain to my relationships. I struggle with taking on the problems of others without considering my own mental fortitude. Due to my openness about my mental health struggles, as well as my encouragement for my loved ones to share their struggles, I end up feeling drained and like the "therapist friend." Which builds resentment in my relationships because I did not consider my own mental capacity. Ultimately, the resentment turns to shame, as I encouraged my friends and family to speak to me, the shame soon becomes a familiar idea, "I am not good enough." What I want to do in my career is inspired by my own experiences with mental health, the shame and unbearable emotions that I struggled with for years inspired me to help those who are going through the same issues. "I am not good enough," does not need to define a generation of people. I am passionate about becoming a Licensed Clinical Social Worker, I aim to open my own practice that is affordable and accessible to all, specifically minority youth. Mental illness has no cure, it is chronic, painful, and deadly. My own battles with depression, anxiety, and intrusive thoughts motivates me to be a big change within the mental health industry. Young people in compromising situations rarely have the support they need nor the funds to pursue mental health help. They need patience, acceptance, and knowledge surrounding their struggles. I plan to provide just that. Beliefs shape who I am; who every person is. When mental health is thriving, positive beliefs are thriving too. However, there is always that inner negativity, shaped by my traumatic experiences. The negative feelings towards oneself is a plague that devours the person who is sick, leading to a loss of joy, friendships, hobbies, and everything that makes someone who they are. The issue with mental health struggles is that it eradicates the sense of self. The world feels bleak, challenging, and worst of all, lonely. There is a large problem regarding young people struggling alone, and no child needs to navigate the dangerous waters of mental illness alone.

Tuscumbia, Missouri, a small town with under two hundred people (double that for the amount of cows). Housed many beautiful people and bits of nature that I have yet to find anywhere else, but it also housed crippling amounts of poverty. Drug problems ran rampant in the community, children were neglected, some taken from their parents. It was not a perfect place, but my family did all we could to stay afloat. Dancing on the poverty line wasn't something I thought I'd reminisce on in my later years, but I was wrong. Social workers would visit many of the homes in my town, I felt the joy they brought with them when they'd come. The relief on adult's faces, their children smiling at the thought of being able to afford more food, it inspired me. I am pursuing an education in social work, I intend to get my Master's degree and eventually my licensing to go into clinical social work. Reaching this goal would open many doors in the non-profit and aid side of social work. I intend to work with minority youth, as they need help just as much as anyone else. Making mental health care and assistance programs easily accessible and affordable to adolescents is the main goal in my career, this scholarship would help me get to that target. Social work presents many volunteer opportunities, and I pride myself on being an active part of the community, specifically with non-profit organizations and donations. I worked with the local soup kitchen in middle school, and found so much joy in meeting and assisting people in the community. The sisterhood of the soup kitchen is something I will never forget. Working with the Salvation Army was another volunteer opportunity that stood out to me, as many social workers would come to get clothes for children/adults under their caseload, or to donate clothes they no longer needed. I learned how diverse social work can be during my time there. As of now, I will be supporting myself and my education in a different state. I have no financial assistance, and my student loan debt continues to climb. I am very passionate about what I want to do, and while debt won't stop me, the feeling of the growing cost makes it difficult to focus only on my education. With the Schmid Memorial Scholarship, I can eliminate some of the financial burdens making it difficult for me to pursue my passions. With this scholarship, I will have to work less, which means I can be out in the field volunteering more. Hands on learning and helping are of great importance to me, and any bit of financial assistance can get me to that.

The first time I had an intrusive, dark thought. I was six years old, sitting on the plush rocking chair with my Nana, crying to her because my Dad had screamed at me. I could still feel the sting of his hand on the back of my thigh as I clung to her neck, wondering to myself, "Why me?" That single question to myself, most likely meant to stay unanswered, whirled into thousands of other thoughts. These thoughts comprised into one devastating idea, "I am not good enough." This singular belief, brought about by painful childhood experiences, changed my life in every way possible. Soon after convincing myself that I was not good enough, and that I would never be good enough, I entered kindergarten. It was a cruel coincidence, as I began to form relationships with my peers while struggling with my own self worth. I allowed my friends to do as they pleased, never speaking up about how I felt. I stayed quiet and smiled, even if my feelings were damaged. This behavior continued for me until my nineteenth birthday came about, and even now as a twenty year old, I struggle with setting boundaries. What I want to do in my career is inspired by my own experiences with mental health, the shame and unbearable emotions that I struggled with for years inspired me to help those who are going through the same issues. "I am not good enough," does not need to define a generation of people. I am passionate about becoming a Licensed Clinical Social Worker, I aim to open my own practice that doesn't encourage the use of medicine and outdated coping methods. Mental illness has no cure, it is chronic, painful, and deadly. My own battles with depression, anxiety, and intrusive thoughts motivates me to be a big change within the mental health industry. Struggling people need patience, acceptance, and knowledge surrounding their struggles. I plan to provide just that. Beliefs shape who I am; who every person is. There will always be the inner critic, shaped by my traumatic experiences. "Why is it so hard for me to do simple things?" "Everyone is doing better than I am." "I have never been good enough." It can plague me, take over my life completely, which leads to a loss of joy, friendships, hobbies, and everything that makes me who I am. The issue with mental health struggles is that it eradicates the sense of self. The world feels bleak, challenging, and worst of all, lonely. I fight the negative feelings that lay in the back of my mind. I push to acknowledge them as just thoughts, not a true indicator of who I am. I am challenged by my mental health struggles, yet have been shaped by all of my experiences. But, the core of who I am and the person I will be cannot be changed. The joy I feel when helping others, feelings I get as I see a smile break across a good friend's face, ecstatic looks that my younger siblings have as I challenge them to another round of Mario Kart, are all things that cannot be taken from me by my mental health struggles. There will be times when I feel like nothing I do is right. I need more help, patience, and kindness from others during my difficult periods. Yes, I have to fight my brain every day. But, if I can help one person feel like they have hope, I will have no regrets. Everyone is good enough, and everyone has always been good enough.

I never felt like a girl, or at least, just a girl. There was always something else, deep below the surface. I related to my female peers in their struggles of girlhood, I knew I was somewhat comfortable with an identity of "she." But, as soon as I assured myself of how "she" was a proper label for me, the nagging feeling soon came again. I'd sit and ponder on the feeling, the yearning to be perceived as "nothing." Later in life, I was able to identify the "nothing" feeling as wanting to present androgynously. Discovering how to scratch that itch seemed to only bring issues into my life. Growing up in a small town Missouri meant that I didn't have education on what I was experiencing, at all. I felt like a disgrace, trying to hide my true identity under frilly skirts and talking about boys. That was who I was told that I needed to be, a hyperfeminine individual, focused on dating a boy. It hurt me to know that even to my bones, I was different than the people around me. Hiding myself, feeling crippling shame, and stunting myself emotionally became barriers for me in my everyday life. I didn't feel that I could trust anyone to love me for who I was, so I hid away. Only when I left my small town was I introduced to the idea of what a non-binary person was. Even then, it was an identity that confused many of the people in my social groups. The first time I came out as using "she" and "they" pronouns, I remember hearing a chuckle from my mother. She said to me, "You have no idea who you are, or what you want. Don't tell me that you are anything but a woman." I lost many friends because of my identity, and the urge to hide was weighing heavy on my heart. I am still open about who I am, and I assure to the world that I am not confused. Gender fluidity has no correlation with confusion, as many cis people believe. I truly believe that if there was proper education about transgender and non-binary individuals, we would not have to experience such a large amount of uncomfortable statements, questions, and controversy. I have a firm belief that no person deserves to feel the way that I did. Gender identity and sexual orientation can be so difficult to navigate alone, especially in small towns with little to no support. I am currently pursuing my Master's in Social Work to become a Licensed Clinical Social Worker. I aim to open my own practice that specializes in care for minority youth. Mental healthcare programs and treatments should always be affordable and easily accessible to those who need it. This is my driving force, my passion in my career. After completing my undergraduate degree, I will work with local social agencies to begin introducing my concepts into the social work sphere, as well as gathering like-minded, experienced care providers to aid me on my journey. With this work, I will make mental healthcare more accessible to LGBTQ+ youth in the area, as well as pursuing the placement of these programs in other areas around the country. Specifically, rural areas with little support systems for LGBTQ+ and minority youth groups.

The first time I had an intrusive, dark thought. I was six years old, sitting on the plush rocking chair with my Nana, crying to her because my Dad had screamed at me. He had laid his hands on me in an alcohol induced stupor. I could still feel the sting of his hand on the back of my thigh as I clung to her neck, wondering to myself, "Why me?" That single question to myself, most likely meant to stay unanswered, whirled into thousands of other thoughts. These thoughts comprised into one devastating idea, "I am not good enough." This singular belief, brought about by painful childhood experiences, changed my life in every way possible. My one respite from the sadness at home, was my small non-denominational Church that lied about 15 minutes outside of our town. With only 17 members at its peak, the church was more like a family than anything. The warm words from the pastor soothed the wounds on my soul, and seemed to wash the alcohol smell out of my stained church dress. I felt love as I'd never felt it before, unconditional love from God. The community built inside the church was so kind, welcoming with open arms, smiles, and plenty of home cookin'! However, my mental struggles persisted outside of the church, and I didn't know how to ask for help. Soon after convincing myself that I was not good enough, and that I would never be good enough, I entered kindergarten. It was a cruel coincidence, as I began to form relationships with my peers while struggling with my own self worth. I allowed my friends to do as they pleased, never speaking up about how I felt. I stayed quiet and smiled, even if my feelings were damaged. This behavior continued for me until my nineteenth birthday came about, and even now as a twenty year old, I struggle with setting boundaries. Every night, I feel a bit of calmness when I pray, and give my worries to God above. All of my relationships have been influenced and affected by my mental health or the mental health of those I love. When my mental health is low, I withdraw, not wanting to bother my cherished friends and family. However, this just hurts the relationship more, as it seems like the person withdrawing doesn't care about the connection. This cycle can break down relationships and the people who are in it. It's a hardship that those who struggle with mental illness endure as they navigate the ups and downs of their psyche. As for the mental health of others, seeing someone I love in distress can bring so much pain to my relationships. I struggle with taking on the problems of others without considering my own mental fortitude. Due to my openness about my mental health struggles, as well as my encouragement for my loved ones to share their struggles, I end up feeling drained and like the "therapist friend." Which builds resentment in my relationships because I did not consider my own mental capacity. Ultimately, the resentment turns to shame, as I encouraged my friends and family to speak to me, the shame soon becomes a familiar idea, "I am not good enough." What I want to do in my career is inspired by my own experiences with mental health, the shame and unbearable emotions that I struggled with for years inspired me to help those who are going through the same issues. "I am not good enough," does not need to define a generation of people. I am passionate about becoming a Licensed Clinical Social Worker, I aim to open my own practice that doesn't encourage the use of medicine and outdated coping methods. Mental illness has no cure, it is chronic, painful, and deadly. My own battles with depression, anxiety, and intrusive thoughts motivates me to be a big change within the mental health industry. People who struggle with mental health crises do not need another medication, or multiple therapists. They need patience, acceptance, and knowledge surrounding their struggles. I plan to provide just that. Beliefs shape who I am; who every person is. When my mental health is thriving, my positive beliefs are thriving too. "I am proud of who I am." "I have faith in myself." "I'm confident in what I'm doing." However, there is always that inner negativity, shaped by my traumatic experiences. "Why is it so hard for me to do simple things?" "Everyone is doing better than I am." "I have never been good enough." The negative beliefs that plague me can take over my life completely, which leads to a loss of joy, friendships, hobbies, and everything that makes me who I am. The issue with mental health struggles is that it eradicates the sense of self. The world feels bleak, challenging, and worst of all, lonely. Everyday, I fight the negative feelings that lay in the back of my mind. I push to acknowledge them as just thoughts, not a true indicator of who I am. My beliefs are challenged by my mental health struggles, and have been shaped by all of my experiences. But, the core of who I am and the person I want to be cannot be changed. The joy I feel when helping others, the feeling I get as I see a smile break across a good friend's face, the ecstatic look that my younger siblings have as I challenge them to another round of Mario Kart, are all things that cannot be taken from me by my mental health struggles. Yes, there will be times when I feel like nothing I do is right. Yes, I need more help, patience, and kindness from others during my difficult periods. Yes, I have to fight my brain every day. But, if I can help one person feel like they have hope, I will have no regrets. Every person is good enough, and every person has always been good enough.

Chappell Roan is a tribute to more than being authentic, she is a reminder that where you come from does not define you, or what you can be. Like Chappell, I come from a small town in Missouri that had strict moral values which I found myself not aligning with. I knew I differed from the rest of my peers when we started entering the age of talking about crushes. My friends would talk about the boys they loved, and how they wanted to marry them. But, I found myself liking a different type of person altogether. I liked women, yet I couldn't come to terms with that fact because I had always been told that it was wrong. I hid myself from my friends, my family, and the small conservative town that had an iron-grip on who I "had" to be. In "Good Luck, Babe!" Chappell explores this fake identity, the idea that hiding queerness is possible: "You can kiss a hundred boys in bars / shoot another shot / try to stop the feeling / You can just say it's the way you are." However, hiding queerness like it's a nasty secret only comes back to hurt in the end. I came out after a grueling battle with myself, years of wondering if something was wrong with me, but I realized I could be nobody better than myself. I lost many support systems after I came out. I lost connection with important family members in my life, siblings, and friends who had been present since I joined the school system. It was lonely, knowing that who I was bothered those who I had loved most. Chappell describes this feeling in "California", a ballad from earlier in her career, "I stretched myself across four states / New lands, west coast, where my dreams lay / To think I almost had it going / But I let you down." "California" continues to be one of my favorite songs ever by Chappell because of how raw the emotions pouring out from it are. Chappell has fully embraced where she came from, who she is now, and who she wants to be in the future. She has pushed through her struggles as a queer individual from a small town, she has pushed through the judgmental stares, the comments, the hurt that she has been given. Chappell Roan has inspired me to do better and to be authentically myself while finding joy in the fact that I am different.

The first time I took a step into my therapist's office, I was met with colorful walls, toys, and the smell of lavender. Only seven, bruised and battered by a home life undeserved by any child, I met one of the many people who would change my life. Lisa, a children's psychotherapist, was my savior. She encouraged me to be comfortable with crying, to color outside the lines, and to find the fun in life, even when it was hard. Without her, I would've lost my smile. Twelve, a preteen with a mean streak. I could barely get out of bed, brushing my teeth was out of the question. My home life had only worsened over the years, and while I had kept the smile that Lisa had helped me to find, I was missing the joy behind it. I hated the world, I hated my family, I hated myself. I walked into another therapist's office, and was met with sage green walls and a bergamot oil diffuser. Erika, a certified PTSD therapist and trauma-informed counselor, taught me to rage. She validated my feelings, she let me express my anger. Without knowing it, I was allowing myself to process experiences that I had never wanted to dredge up. Erika allowed me to let the anger go, so I could bring more delight in. Now, I want to use the tools given to me by these influential women to help others. Specifically, adolescents who aren't in a safe space. I struggled in my teen years with being a lesbian, and discovering my gender identity. I was told that I was worthless because of my orientation. I lost many familial relationships, including connection to my father. I haven't seen three of my siblings in years, which only added to my mental health crises at the time. Aside from loss in family, I lost my support system at school. Small towns do not practice kindness to those who differ from the majority. Teenagers are seen as moody, unstable, and hard to work with. But, they're going through so much stress that many do not consider. Adolescents are learning who they are, who they want to be, and actively working towards those goals. However, when there is a rough home life involved, it can feel almost impossible to focus on anything but the issues going on at home. I am pursuing a Master's Degree in Social Work to obtain a license for Clinical Social Work. With this degree, I plan to work alongside other experienced social workers and mental health professionals to open my own practice geared towards adolescents and young adults. A safe space that practices patience, acceptance, and kindness is absolutely necessary for those who are struggling. I plan to make this space possible by my own hands. Taking a route in Social Work allows me to reach more individuals, as I can work through school, hospital, and non-profit systems. Money is a big stressor, especially for minority youth, so being readily accessible and in line with programs that allow for free and reduced mental health care is incredibly important to me, and my aspirations. With the help of mental health professionals, I found my smile and my joy. They helped me to accept myself for who I am, wholeheartedly. I want to carry on this legacy to struggling youth, who need support, kindness, and acceptance more than anything. Keeping this support easily available and affordable is my highest calling, and I know that it is possible.

My dream of helping people started when I was young, I had listened to a close friend's problem and when she was done talking to me she smiled and said, "I feel so much better, thank you, I'm glad you were here to listen." I knew then and there that I wanted to spend the rest of my life seeing the look of relief on a person's face when they felt truly understood and heard. The years following that experience were spent gathering information on mental health, whether it be through classes I took, experiences with my own mental health providers, or researching books and articles. Through this research, I discovered how I wanted to help people in my career. Social Work is my highest calling because it allows me to reach people from all walks of life, and with that path I can make mental health services affordable and accessible to all. I am pursuing a Master's Degree in Social Work to obtain a license for Clinical Social Work. With this degree, I plan to work alongside other experienced social workers and mental health professionals to open my own practice geared towards adolescents and young adults. A safe space that practices patience, acceptance, and kindness is absolutely necessary for those who are struggling. I plan to make this space possible by my own hands. The social work degree will allow me access into the school system, hospital system, and non-profit programs, so that I have the most outreach possible. Money is a big stressor, especially for those who are going through mental crises, so being readily accessible and in line with programs that allow for free and reduced mental health care is incredibly important to me, and my aspirations. I have started to work with the PEAK health and wellness club on my campus to promote mental health awareness, as well as networking with individuals who are already in that line of work. Working with peers on campus allows me to learn more about mental health in the modern day. Another benefit is connecting with peers who have the same goals as me, and sharing our ideas to create fully-formed aspirations. I am also in contact with multiple social work agencies, which has allowed me to understand the responsibilities of social workers, as well as how agencies are ran under NASW (National Association-Social Workers) guidelines. My own experiences with social workers and mental health professionals are my guiding light for what I want to do with my career. I want to help those who feel like they cannot be helped, and to do this I have gathered all the resources I can to aid me on my journey. Accessibility, knowledge, and passion continue to guide me as I discover more about the mental healthcare world, and build a repertoire of people and ideals to include in my own mental health practices.

The lights hit the stage, blues, purples, and the yellow fills the room, and cheers echo throughout the stadium. It was the first time I ever got to experience the electricity that floats through the air as the artist steps on stage. I was seven years old, sitting in the nose bleeds with my mom and her best friend flanking both of my sides. The curly, blonde hair of Taylor Swift swishes out from behind the curtains on stage, and suddenly she is in the middle. The stadium roars as she approaches the mic, a 13 inscribed on the back of her hand. Guitar slung over her shoulder, she begins to strum the strings gently, letting a soft melody escape her lips. It was beautiful, maybe one of the most magical things seven year old me could ever fathom. A beautiful girl, singing beautiful words on a enormous stage. Her words and the energy from the crowd pushed me back and pulled me in. I sang every word like I wrote it myself, I twirled with a girl around my age with a feather boa and sparkly eye shadow, this concert was much more than live music, it was connection. A special connection with all the people who had felt a strong tug at the heart strings when listening to Taylor Swift's music, just like my mom and I had. The memories I made with my mom at that first concert are ones that I have never forgotten. I will forever chase that feeling of static sparks that I experienced in the highest row of the Speak Now World Tour. I learned my love for music, for the theatrics of concerts, and for meeting new people at that very venue. The same venue that I returned to for my favorite and arguably, most important concert that I had ever had the privilege of watching. Many years after the Taylor Swift concert, I received a text from my best friend, who had been traveling for the past year. She told me about a Pierce the Veil concert that was happening about three hours from our home town. We had two weeks to decide, yet we only took about fifteen minutes to buy the tickets. When the day arrived we spent the entirety of it together, we got ready in the same bathroom, trying to make up for all of our lost time with squished faces in the mirror. Waiting in line to enter the venue, I could feel the feeling that I was always chasing. The electric hum of a crowd just itching in anticipation. We had general admission tickets, and the floor was packed. I saw the lead singer, Vic Fuentes, slowly step onto stage. Looking over, my best friend had the biggest smile I'd seen in years and she was screaming like she'd never screamed before. The crowd stilled as he held up his hand, "Y'all ready to mosh or what?" Chaos ensued, but only in the best way.

My dream of helping people started when I was young, I had listened to a close friend's problem and when she was done talking to me she smiled and said, "I feel so much better, thank you, I'm glad you were here to listen." I knew then and there that I wanted to spend the rest of my life seeing the look of relief on a person's face when they felt truly understood and heard. The years following that experience were spent gathering information on mental health, whether it be through classes I took, experiences with my own mental health providers, or researching books and articles. Through this research, I discovered how I wanted to help people in my career. Social Work is my highest calling because it allows me to reach people from all walks of life, and with that path I can make mental health services affordable and accessible to all. I am pursuing a Master's Degree in Social Work to obtain a license for Clinical Social Work. With this degree, I plan to work alongside other experienced social workers and mental health professionals to open my own practice geared towards adolescents and young adults. A safe space that practices patience, acceptance, and kindness is absolutely necessary for those who are struggling. I plan to make this space possible by my own hands. The social work degree will allow me access into the school system, hospital system, and non-profit programs, so that I have the most outreach possible. Money is a big stressor, especially for those who are going through mental crises, so being readily accessible and in line with programs that allow for free and reduced mental health care is incredibly important to me, and my aspirations. I have started to work with the PEAK health and wellness club on my campus to promote mental health awareness, as well as networking with individuals who are already in that line of work. Working with peers on campus allows me to learn more about mental health in the modern day. Another benefit is connecting with peers who have the same goals as me, and sharing our ideas to create fully-formed aspirations. I am also in contact with multiple social work agencies, which has allowed me to understand the responsibilities of social workers, as well as how agencies are ran under NASW (National Association-Social Workers) guidelines. My own experiences with social workers and mental health professionals are my guiding light for what I want to do with my career. I want to help those who feel like they cannot be helped, and to do this I have gathered all the resources I can to aid me on my journey. Accessibility, knowledge, and passion continue to guide me as I discover more about the mental healthcare world, and build a repertoire of people and ideals to include in my own mental health practices.

Tuscumbia, Missouri, a town with only 250 people. I grew up surrounded by the trees rustling when the sweet spring wind blew through, and the babbling creeks bouncing along smooth stones. The happiest place for me was in nature with the people I loved. However, my childhood was not without problems. My father abused my mother and I, it was daily torture. The type of abuse that sinks into your skin and never leaves, no matter how hard you scrub. We both knew we couldn't take it much longer, so we escaped to a bigger city, away from him. I had lost the forest, so I lost a piece of myself. As a way to ground myself during mental health struggles, I began to seek out places filled with plants. Greenhouses, botanical gardens, and parks were some of my favorite places to go when I felt that I was losing touch with myself and the world around me. When I couldn't be in nature, I would write about it in poetry, or sketch it in my notebook. It made me feel more whole, and gave me other things to think about than the anxious thoughts rolling around in my head. As time for college approached, I took the cheapest route for my associate's degree, I had two years of free college! However, it was located in a strip mall, far away from anything that sprouted from the earth. I knew that once I graduated with my associates, I needed to escape. To be free of the non-natural world, and to leave those who hurt me behind. My biggest act of love for myself was moving for college, I traveled to Colorado Springs. Full of fresh air, diverse ecosystems, mountains towering high above, I felt at peace with myself again. I had reunited with what grounded me the most. I still struggle day-day, as mental illness is something that has no cure. It is chronic, painful, and a constant battle. But being around the purple mountains, the blossoming forests, and the reservoirs of Colorado Springs reminds me that I am resilient, I am strong. My mental health has a huge impact on how I see the world and how I interact with it. My biggest beliefs about myself and the people around me can fluctuate with how I am doing mentally. I want to love the world around me, I want to feel joy in the company of others. To enjoy all my experiences, I take care of my mental wellness. Poetry, reading, and hiking are the biggest ways that I ground myself and bring peace to my mind. I have wrote many poems that speak on the beauty of Earth, and how joyous I am to spend time outside. Reading books that transport me to a fantasy world help open up my perspective on my surroundings. Hiking connects me to nature, and brings me back to being a child. I see the trees rustling about, the creeks babbling down the mountain, the white-tailed fawns caring for their children as they spring about the forest. When I do these things, and see the simple beauty in them, all feels right in the world.

The first time I took a step into my therapist's office, I was met with colorful walls, toys, and the smell of lavender. Only seven, bruised and battered by a home life undeserved by any child, I met one of the many people who would change my life. Lisa, a children's psychotherapist, was my savior. She encouraged me to be comfortable with crying, to color outside the lines, and to find the fun in life, even when it was hard. Without her, I would've lost my smile. Twelve, a preteen with a mean streak. I could barely get out of bed, brushing my teeth was out of the question. My home life had only worsened over the years, and while I had kept the smile that Lisa had helped me to find, I was missing the joy behind it. I hated the world, I hated my family, I hated myself. I walked into another therapist's office, and was met with sage green walls and a bergamot oil diffuser. Erika, a certified PTSD therapist and trauma-informed counselor, taught me to rage. She validated my feelings, she let me express my anger. Without knowing it, I was allowing myself to process experiences that I had never wanted to dredge up. Erika allowed me to let the anger go, so I could bring more delight in. Now, I want to use the tools given to me by these influential women to help others. Specifically, LGBTQ+ adolescents who aren't in a safe space. I struggled in my teen years with being a lesbian, and discovering my gender identity. I was told that I was worthless because of my orientation. I lost many familial relationships, including connection to my Father. I haven't seen three of my siblings in years, which only added to my mental health crises at the time. Teenagers are seen as moody, unstable, and hard to work with. But, they're going through so much stress that many do not consider. Adolescents are learning who they are, who they want to be, and actively working towards those goals. However, when there is a rough home life involved, it can feel almost impossible to focus on anything but the issues going on at home. With the added stressor of social media and a tech world that is constantly improving, adolescents need a guiding hand through the mental trials and tribulations of the early and late teens. I am pursuing a Master's Degree in Social Work to obtain a license for Clinical Social Work. With this degree, I plan to work alongside other experienced social workers and mental health professionals to open my own practice geared towards adolescents and young adults. A safe space that practices patience, acceptance, and kindness is absolutely necessary for those who are struggling. I plan to make this space possible by my own hands. Taking a route in Social Work allows me to reach more individuals, as I can work through school, hospital, and non-profit systems. Money is a big stressor, especially for LGBTQ+ youth, so being readily accessible and in line with programs that allow for free and reduced mental health care is incredibly important to me, and my aspirations. With the help of mental health professionals, I found my smile and my joy. They helped me to accept myself for who I am, wholeheartedly. I want to carry on this legacy to struggling LGBTQ+ youth, who need support, kindness, and acceptance more than anything. Keeping this support easily available and affordable is my highest calling, and I know that it is possible.

The first time I had an intrusive, dark thought. I was six years old, sitting on the plush rocking chair with my Nana, crying to her because my Dad had screamed at me. I could still feel the sting of his hand on the back of my thigh as I clung to her neck, wondering to myself, "Why me?" That single question to myself, most likely meant to stay unanswered, whirled into thousands of other thoughts. These thoughts comprised into one devastating idea, "I am not good enough." This singular belief, brought about by painful childhood experiences, changed my life in every way possible. Soon after convincing myself that I was not good enough, and that I would never be good enough, I entered kindergarten. It was a cruel coincidence, as I began to form relationships with my peers while struggling with my own self worth. I allowed my friends to do as they pleased, never speaking up about how I felt. I stayed quiet and smiled, even if my feelings were damaged. This behavior continued for me until my nineteenth birthday came about, and even now as a twenty year old, I struggle with setting boundaries. All of my relationships have been influenced and affected by my mental health or the mental health of those I love. When my mental health is low, I withdraw, not wanting to bother my cherished friends and family. However, this just hurts the relationship more, as it seems like the person withdrawing doesn't care about the connection. This cycle can break down relationships and the people who are in it. It's a hardship that those who struggle with mental illness endure as they navigate the ups and downs of their psyche. As for the mental health of others, seeing someone I love in distress can bring so much pain to my relationships. I struggle with taking on the problems of others without considering my own mental fortitude. Due to my openness about my mental health struggles, as well as my encouragement for my loved ones to share their struggles, I end up feeling drained and like the "therapist friend." Which builds resentment in my relationships because I did not consider my own mental capacity. Ultimately, the resentment turns to shame, as I encouraged my friends and family to speak to me, the shame soon becomes a familiar idea, "I am not good enough." What I want to do in my career is inspired by my own experiences with mental health, the shame and unbearable emotions that I struggled with for years inspired me to help those who are going through the same issues. "I am not good enough," does not need to define a generation of people. I am passionate about becoming a Licensed Clinical Social Worker, I aim to open my own practice that doesn't encourage the use of medicine and outdated coping methods. Mental illness has no cure, it is chronic, painful, and deadly. My own battles with depression, anxiety, and intrusive thoughts motivates me to be a big change within the mental health industry. People who struggle with mental health crises do not need another medication, or multiple therapists. They need patience, acceptance, and knowledge surrounding their struggles. I plan to provide just that. Beliefs shape who I am; who every person is. When my mental health is thriving, my positive beliefs are thriving too. "I am proud of who I am." "I have faith in myself." "I'm confident in what I'm doing." However, there is always that inner negativity, shaped by my traumatic experiences. "Why is it so hard for me to do simple things?" "Everyone is doing better than I am." "I have never been good enough." The negative beliefs that plague me can take over my life completely, which leads to a loss of joy, friendships, hobbies, and everything that makes me who I am. The issue with mental health struggles is that it eradicates the sense of self. The world feels bleak, challenging, and worst of all, lonely. Everyday, I fight the negative feelings that lay in the back of my mind. I push to acknowledge them as just thoughts, not a true indicator of who I am. My beliefs are challenged by my mental health struggles, and have been shaped by all of my experiences. But, the core of who I am and the person I want to be cannot be changed. The joy I feel when helping others, the feeling I get as I see a smile break across a good friend's face, the ecstatic look that my younger siblings have as I challenge them to another round of Mario Kart, are all things that cannot be taken from me by my mental health struggles. Yes, there will be times when I feel like nothing I do is right. Yes, I need more help, patience, and kindness from others during my difficult periods. Yes, I have to fight my brain every day. But, if I can help one person feel like they have hope, I will have no regrets. Everyone is good enough, and everyone has always been good enough.