As a refugee in Thailand, I struggled with depression and an eating disorder at a time when I barely understood what was happening to me myself. Mental health was rarely discussed in my community, and emotional suffering was often dismissed as laziness. Because of that environment, I learned what it feels like to suffer silently while believing that no one would truly be on my side. During that period of my life, I lost both my appetite and my sense of self. I would skip breakfast and lunch every day and survive on only a small pack of biscuits for dinner. Eventually, my body stopped recognizing hunger normally. One night, after weeks of barely eating, I devoured three cheeseburgers in minutes. My stomach hurt so intensely that I could not tell whether I was starving or painfully full. Even then, part of me still wanted to keep eating and I had begged my mom to give me more food. My mother realized something was seriously wrong and stopped me from eating more, and shortly afterward I vomited everything back up. Looking back, that moment of time reflected how disconnected I had become from my own body and health. As refugees in Thailand, access to healthcare was already difficult, and mental health support felt nearly impossible to reach. There were few protections for refugees, and receiving medical attention was not simple. Because of this, my struggles remained untreated and largely invisible. after immigrating to the United States, I read The Yellow Wallpaper for an English assignment. Although the story centered around postpartum depression, I resonated deeply with the narrator’s experience of having her suffering dismissed and minimized. Like her, I felt trapped by the assumption that my pain was not real. Reading that story helped me realize that mental illness is not always visible, but it can still consume a person from the inside. At the same time, my experiences also transformed my understanding of relationships and support. The person who changed my life most was my sister. She did not know exactly how to help me, but she refused to let me sink deeper into isolation. Every day, she dragged me out of bed and forced me to go on walks with her, even when I resisted. She would annoy me until I finally gave in because she knew I needed movement, sunlight, and connection. She even taught herself how to cook so she could encourage me to eat properly again. Through her actions, she reminded me that recovery does not always begin perfectly. Sometimes it begins with someone simply refusing to give up on you. Because of my sister, I slowly regained my appetite, rebuilt healthier habits, and learned how to advocate for myself. Her influence inspired me to become more open about my experiences. I joined speech and debate so I could speak about mental health and share the struggles I once felt forced to endure alone. Through those experiences, I met many people who resonated with my story, and I realized how many individuals carry similar pain. Those conversations strengthened my belief that mental health deserves to be treated with the same seriousness and compassion as physical health. My journey has ultimately shaped my aspirations by motivating me to use my voice to support others who feel unseen or dismissed. I know how fortunate I am to have had my sister beside me during my darkest moments, because many people do not have that kind of support system. That realization has made me more empathetic and determined to create spaces where people feel heard rather than judged. Although my experiences with depression and an eating disorder were painful, they taught me resilience, self-advocacy, and the importance of compassion. Most importantly, they taught me that healing often begins when even one person chooses to care.

When I decided that I was going to pursue dreams of becoming a stem major specifically in biopsychology and later to a medical school, I was only 14. Part of the reason was because I grew up idolizing the neighbor’s big sister who was the pride of her family and the other was because I spent my early teenage years struggling in an active warzone. I’ve seen too many deaths, injuries and executions that were too brutalized for a young teenager. I’ve seen the way people were willing to fight for freedom, the way nurses and doctors did not hesitate to treat patients despite the risk of being jailed and the way volunteers actively helped out displaced families and I wanted to be just like them. When I first immigrated to the US and was enrolled in highschool, my very first choice with my new profound freedom was that I wanted to be a volunteer. I didn’t have any friends back then and all I had was the internet and a free Samsung Galaxy A15 that came with it from my refugee support group. With that phone, I started volunteering at RedCross and to this day, I still am. Then in the summer, when my schedule was free up, I started volunteering at my local hospital. I’ve met a lot of my peers and meaningful relationships from my volunteer work. I’ve listened to a lot of stories and goals throughout more than two years of experience. These were also the reasons that pushed me to pursue my career in the medical field as a nurse aide. The reason why I decided to pursue my education in biopsychology was because I wanted to understand what I need to better myself to be a person filled with compassion and confidence, someone that I once look up to when I was still actively struggling in a war stricken place, the medical staffs and the volunteers. I feel deeply resonated with Kayla’s habit of accomplishing each of her goals as I have done the exact same things. My first goal I wanted to accomplish was to be a volunteer and give back to my community, my second goal was to be a CNA and experience what it was like to work with elderly residents; I had achieved both of my goals and my third would be to graduate college with my intended major and get admitted to a medical school. My fourth and final goal is to travel around the world as a volunteer surgeon or a physician to poverty stricken areas just where I was once to help out as many people as I can. This scholarship would help me a lot in pursuing my current and third goal. It would definitely lift up a burden off of my shoulder. It would help me reduce stress and better focus on my studies and my volunteer work. I wish to continue on this journey with my best ability and make a positive outlook on people’s lives.

“Money, money, money Must be funny In the rich man's world.” I used to sing the lyrics over and over again because sometimes money that is significant to me feels really funny and small in another’s eye. When I was younger my father was often away for work and my mom, my younger sister and I would have to survive off of the monthly salary my dad sent back. So when we go grocery shopping, not in a supermarket or a grocery store but at wet-markets, I’ve learned the value of various negotiation skills from my mother. And oftentimes, I had helped my mom sell wild vegetables we dug up from the mountains. In Autumn, when rain was heavy in Myanmar, my home country, I would try to eat less because in my childish moments, my way of helping my mom save money was eating less food. When the Civil War broke out in my country, we decided to follow my dad to the borders of the country and became refugees; my family essentially became homeless until I reached out to UNHCR and were given a chance to immigrate to the United States. But life itself was not a fairytale that ended happily ever after. My parents were struggling immensely due to lack of knowledge and inability to speak English. I had considered dropping out of High school to work full time to lift this financial burden off of my parent’s shoulders but my parents were reasonably very against it. So when I was told I needed to take financial literacy as a class in order to graduate, I was skeptical. But as I learned more, the more I realized I was simply naive. I hadn’t had a clue on how credit scores work nor even realized I needed to invest in retirement funds. So once summer arrived I started working and had started saving money since then, slowly putting aside money for an emergency fund for myself and my college fund. With regular attendance at financial literacy workshops created to help refugees, I have started to educate myself, my parents and my younger sister of the responsibilities of how to properly spend, save and use credit and money. But most importantly, it has taught me to socialize with peers around me and I have made very memorable memories with people I cherish in my new chapter of life. I plan on attending a 4 year university and later 4 year medical school to achieve my dreams of becoming a general surgeon. With my newfound knowledge, I know in order to utilize money effectively, I no longer need to starve myself like I once did. I know I have a long journey ahead of me and I know I can work towards my goal, whether this be combating my future student loans or simply trying to survive, I know I can because I have already started plowing my road with proper budget, a good credit and savings just like I once did with the wild vegetables from the mountain.