My mental health was influenced by the people I held closest to me, and that, in turn, has affected my relationships, the way I see societal constructs, and, I believe, my own future. In 2019 my parents announced their divorce, and in 2020 my father decided that he no longer wanted a relationship with me. I didn't even remember what I did that he abhorred with such vengeance, but he said it was my fault, and I believed him. I was already seeing a therapist just because of my parents divorce, and she had recommended anxiety medication to me multiple times, but I had refused it because I thought if I couldn’t survive without help, I didn't really deserve to live. After I deferred all of the medical help my therapist could offer, she set her sights on other techniques to fix me. Breathing techniques, meditation, less sleep, more sleep, counting, less screen time, I tried everything to stop thinking. It just left me more tired than I began. I stopped trying, and the days slowed down. Everything moved in slow motion and it was comforting. The constant feeling of numbness was comforting, as was the lack of sleep. I lived in my own world for months on end, settling into the routine numbness of over the top joking and laughter with friends, terrified that if I ever acted upset they too, would leave me. The worst feeling is when you feel lonely yet there are people all around you. It was only a few weeks ago I felt things shift. My dad contacted me; ecstatic, I replied, forgetting what I learned merely a year before. We talked about nonsensical things for a few days, how school was going, soccer, friends, the trivial nonsense that fills the gap in relationships. Then, just a few days after, he stopped replying. I should have known it was coming; writing this now I want to kick myself for even hoping things could be what they used to be. We never had a normal relationship, my father and I, he was always cold and distant, it seemed as though my purpose in life was to follow his instructions and bear the weight of expectation. But even so, when he stopped texting me something broke. I was already cracked from time and experience, but I thought I still had some value, then once again I was chucked aside like a piece of trash. As I lay on the disgustingly trashed floor of my bedroom, head on a pile of dirty laundry and headphones plugged into my ears as tightly as they could squeeze. I started thinking about how many other people there might be in my situation. Chasing affection from someone who hurt them so much. If I met someone, of whom I had no prior experiences with, and they told me the same story I tell, I would be crushed to think that they thought of themselves as no more than a puppet for someone else to live through. I needed to get out of the draining cycle I had put myself through. The love I gave to other people so freely meant that I had none left for myself. The constant fear that if I didn't perform perfectly no one would like me, yet so scared to find the limit of my intelligence. Thinking about myself as a conscience being, and listening to a multitude of philosophy lectures, I began to understand myself. I realized that I had this thing where I needed everybody to think I’m the best, and if they weren’t completely amazed, and kind of intimidated by my talents, then I didn’t like myself. The need for perfection does not stop at intelligence. Every mark on my skin, every movement that I make, everything has to be flawless and quintessential. It is not that only I have insecurities, from noses that are too big to an extra layer of fat from enjoying those extra slices of cake, most everyone has something they wish to change, but I heard somewhere that your soul picks out your body before it comes down to earth. I can't tell you if it is true, but I do believe it is a beautiful concept. Why do we spend so much time looking at our flaws and picking at the bits of skin and fat that cling to our figures, when we may have fallen in love with ourselves before we even graced the planet? If only our eyes saw souls instead of bodies, how different our idea of beauty would be. My experiences with mental health provide me with the ability to help other people who, like me, have been constantly questioning their place on this earth. Through countless sleepless nights and stressful days, I have kept myself as a safe space for all those who need advice, protection, or just a place to vent. I am proud to say that I have found a way to affect others around me, and stopped one of my closest friends from taking their own life. Mental health matters, and not many people are able to understand what it is like to feel unheard by society, but my experiences with mental health have provoked me to change how I view both the world and others. I promise to continue using that knowledge as a guide to protect those I care about.

1. I probably dont deserve this scholarship, I just stayed up until 1 am and then woke up at 11, then spent 2 hours staring at the Scholarships I wanted to apply for, told myself I would do them all today, then I freaked out and just decided to do this one because it looked fun. 2. I really have no idea. I just want to make enough money to disappear off the grid when I feel done with society, and then buy a castle in the middle of nowhere in Scotland and be self-sufficient until I die. 3. I ran over a hurdle in 8th grade. Does that count?

When I was younger, I was constantly told the professions I was interested in were hard for woman to break into, as they were male-predominant careers. At first it was engineering, which has 15% woman and 85% men, a vast difference, then I moved on to medical fields, where, while great strides have been taken in leveling the ratio of the sexes, according to the Washington Post, male doctors still outnumber female doctors in the U.S. 64% to 34%, which, while it might seem close, that means there are almost 21,000 more male doctors than female. My sophomore year of high school, I began exploring the idea of architecture; combining my love for art with the enjoyment I got from solving equations, and being able to help create a better future for humans to cohabit in? But the ratio between male and female architects is 77.4% to 22.6%, even a wider gender gap than doctors. I fell in love with drawing old buildings and visiting cities to marvel at the skyscrapers that stretched so far in the sky it seemed as if they disappeared into the clouds. Entranced with the idea of creating a lasting difference in the world, one that would stay standing for many generations to come, I searched online for the different professions in the field of architecture, but two jobs stood out most to me. Conservation Architecture, when I could restore and protect old building that give us insight into the past, and Sustainable/Green Design Architecture, where I could create and engineer new ways to use what the planet gives us, leading to a cleaner future. Past and future, either will allow me to impact the world, but in two very different ways. Past is preservation and future is creation, and I cannot chosen yet which calls to me more, but with time and experience I will become one of the best-known architects in my field. I have already experienced being one of the only females in STEAM classes, in my Pre-AP Pre Calculus class that is a grade ahead, I am one of 6 women with 18 men, in AP Physics, one of 8 woman with 17 men, and in German I was one of 2, most of my classmates were in German in order to prepare for coding and engineering. Being ridiculed and teased for being a woman “in a mans world” has tried my patience for too long. Teachers asking if I need extra help but not asking my male peers, sexism in the classroom has gone far enough. I’ll prove to them that I will rise above their silly prejudices to reach greater achievements than they can even dream about. I will follow the path of education that I wish to take even if the whole world is against me, and make my mark on the world.

Being a Texan means you love your family and protect them at all costs. It means fertile soil and fresh running rivers cutting through the countryside, a brilliant blue stretching across the sky in the day, and the stars shining big and bright at night. Bluebonnets and a multitude of other wildflowers in luminescent colors painted across the landscape in the spring, and stomping on leaves fallen in the gutter in fall. Rodeos and fairs where the community bands together as a whole to celebrate the talents we have, and bond through amusing games and adrenaline-inducing rides. Texans are proud and fierce, and we can be stubborn in what we believe, we but have the trademark friendliness that will leave any visitor feeling welcome and loved. Texas holds memories of running through sprinklers in summertime, laughing together as the pavement fries an egg in the August heat, and stargazing in the countryside after roasting marshmallows for s’mores. The land of the free spirited, and the home of the brave hearted, barbecue and the cheer of the crowd at high school football games when the home team scores the winning touchdown. Being a Texan means a support system built on years of working and fighting as one, and standing up for what is right.

When I was younger, I struggled to connect emotionally with my father, he was always very distant and cold, it was natural that I took after him, as I spent most of my time with him. I’m 17 now, and still trying to figure out how to properly express how I feel. One night, scrolling through my TikTok For You Page, I found the video that made me feel less alone in my struggles. A stick figure in bed, just like me, scrolling through their phone, just like me, still awake at 2:00 am, just like me. The background audio had a slow song, sad, but almost comforting in its softness, then, in scribbled white letters carving into the black background, it read: “The weather in my head is not very good right now. And I would like to express how I feel. But I cant right now. Be patient with me? Please?”. Those words and their sagacity have crowded my brain ever since first seeing them, how could they not? The idea that somewhere out in this world that seems so lonely, there is another human being that was grappling with the same problem as me, working towards connecting with others, makes me feel a little less hopeless.

Generosity is a character trait that is applauded and encouraged growing up, expressed through protagonists of childhood shows. When I was a kid, and to confess, still today, one of my favorite shows was My Little Pony, for the striking plot line, funny characters, and way that everything turned out alright through the power of friendship. The six main characters each represented a different Element of Harmony, working together to protect Equestria, but my favorite was always Rarity, who represented the Element of Generosity. Her perfectly coiffed mane did not distract from the fact that, even when having to care for her sister, and run her own business, she always made time share her talent with the community. From running a fundraiser for animal adoption to creating one of a kind masterpieces for her friends to wear to the Grand Galloping Gala, Rarity shined as brightly as the pony who would always work to make her friends happy, even when that meant that she had to give up something she wanted. My Little Pony was a core part of my childhood, giving me role models like Rarity to follow after; even today when seeing someone less fortunate than I, the lessons in generosity taught to me come into my head, prompting me to share my umbrella; thinking “What would Rarity do?”.