I relate to Ella’s story deeply. My own is one marked by profound loss, battles with mental health, and a fierce determination to keep going, even when the path was dark. From childhood, I struggled with severe depression and anxiety, constantly feeling trapped in pain and suffering. The weight of those challenges became unbearable when, at a young age, I faced a series of devastating losses. First, I lost my best friend, Tiffany, who, like Ella, had been working to face her own demons with drugs and alcohol. Tiffany had a huge heart and a fierce love that radiated to everyone she met. She was on her way back to Ball State, where she was about to graduate, when she died in a car accident. She was one of the brightest lights in my life, filled with dreams, ambition, and a warmth that touched everyone around her. Her loss was shattering, and it left an irreplaceable void in my world. But the devastation and pain didn’t stop there. Just two years later, I lost my fiancé, Jason. He was drinking and driving when he was ejected from the Jeep he was in. After two days on life support, I had to say my final goodbyes, a moment that left me feeling shattered in ways I wasn’t prepared to cope with. By the age of 24, I had lost the two people who meant the most to me. They were both on the cusp of realizing their dreams, each with a vision of a future they would never get to see. The grief felt insurmountable. Therapy and medication couldn’t touch the depth of the pain I was experiencing. I felt isolated and hopeless, often wondering what the point of living even was. After Jason’s death, I sank into alcohol addiction as a way to cope with the pain. Drinking felt like a way to escape the unbearable sadness and numb the trauma, but it only deepened my struggles, pulling me further into a cycle of despair. My mental health hit its lowest point, and in a moment of hopelessness, I attempted to end my own life—the pain and loss were simply too much to bear. As if the emotional suffering weren’t enough, I was then diagnosed with a neurological disorder that stripped away my independence and even my ability to walk. Suddenly, everything I’d known seemed unreachable, and I faced a new battle: rebuilding my body and my spirit from the ground up. Learning to walk again was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done, but it was also one of the most powerful. The strength it required gave me a new perspective on survival, resilience, and hope. I began to realize that living fully, despite my pain, was my way of honoring Tiffany and Jason and their futures that were cut short. They never had the chance to fulfill their dreams, but I still did. That realization became my turning point. I sought out support groups and explored holistic approaches to healing, which helped me work through my grief in ways I hadn’t thought possible. Slowly and painfully, I began to rebuild, finding healthier ways to cope, reclaiming my body, and rekindling my desire to help others. Today, I am pursuing a Master’s degree in East-West Psychology, driven by the belief that my story and my struggles can help others. My journey has shown me that healing requires more than medication or surface-level interventions; it requires addressing the roots of pain, building resilience, and finding purpose. As a vocal advocate for trauma-informed therapy, I aim to specialize in helping individuals dealing with grief, addiction, and mental health struggles. I am committed to creating spaces where people can feel understood and find hope on their own paths to healing. Receiving this scholarship would allow me to carry forward Ella’s legacy of resilience and hope, supporting those who, like her—and like me—have faced unimaginable pain yet continue to rise above it. I am committed to continuing in my recovery, living a life that honors Jason and Tiffany, and helping others find light in their darkest times.

Growing up in poverty and navigating life with a disability has brought challenges that many people can’t fully understand. Being a first-generation college student means not only breaking free from systemic injustices that create cycles of poverty and limit opportunity, but also breaking free from generational trauma. My journey has been defined by resilience in the face of not just one battle but many, as the struggles tied to disability, financial hardship, and educational inequity have amplified one another. I am pursuing my Master's degree because I believe it is a powerful tool to disrupt these cycles, create a life beyond survival, and ultimately fight for a more just future. The lack of privilege that comes with growing up in poverty, compounded by my family’s lack of education, has deeply impacted my life. In an environment where every decision felt tied to immediate survival, college felt like an unattainable dream, reserved for those born with the means to access it. The generational trauma that shaped my family instilled a sense of limitation—beliefs about what we could and couldn’t achieve, or where we “belonged” in society. My goal is to break free from that mindset and show that trauma and poverty do not have to define one’s future. For me, being a first-generation college student doesn’t just mean I am the first to step into higher education; it means I am the first in my family to challenge and question the deep-seated systems that perpetuate cycles of poverty and pain. Living with a disability, I face barriers to access and opportunity every day, which makes the journey toward higher education even more challenging. The system doesn’t offer adequate support for students like me. I am fighting against the odds on multiple fronts, with a constant need to advocate for my place, rights, and well-being within institutions that were not designed for people like me. Preparing myself for college as a first-generation student has required not just ambition, but tenacity and self-advocacy. I took it upon myself to learn the complex college application process and sought out every possible resource to help me secure financial aid, understand college requirements, and prepare for the demands ahead. My disability and background have taught me the importance of self-education and resilience; each small success is a testament to my determination to thrive in a world that often feels stacked against me. I believe that education can be a powerful way to rewrite my story and break the chains of generational trauma. With my degree, I aim to use my voice to raise awareness of the structural challenges that students like me face, to advocate for support systems that empower disabled, first-generation, and low-income students, and to fight for a future where others don’t have to experience the same struggles. Pursuing higher education is a personal victory, but it is also a step toward social change—a path to challenging and transforming the systems that keep so many people trapped. Receiving this scholarship would mean more than financial support; it would be an acknowledgment of the complex, multi-layered journey that first-generation students like me face every day. It would allow me to focus more fully on my studies and my mission to break through barriers for myself and for future generations. My goal is not just to succeed academically but to be part of the movement to ensure that others, regardless of their background, can access the opportunities they deserve.

Returning to school as a disabled mother has been one of the most challenging yet rewarding experiences of my life. My inspiration to continue my education stems from a deep desire to create a brighter future for myself and my daughter. I want to show her that no matter what obstacles life throws at us, it’s possible to keep moving forward, growing, and achieving our dreams. As a mom pursuing a graduate degree in East-West Psychology, I hope to bring a trauma-informed approach to mental health care, advocating for holistic healing methods that were once out of reach in my own life. My journey hasn’t been an easy one, but it’s filled with resilience, purpose, and a commitment to making a difference for my family and others. Throughout my life, I’ve faced numerous obstacles, including the lasting impacts of childhood trauma, becoming a widow, and a disabling neurological condition. The decision to return to school was not one I took lightly, as I was aware that balancing academic demands with motherhood and managing my health would require every ounce of strength I had. I was nervous about going back to school, knowing how difficult my previous journey through higher education had been. Yet, my commitment to mental health advocacy, inspired by my own healing journey, propelled me forward. I felt called to pursue this degree to create change—not only for my family but also for others who struggle with similar challenges, as I understand firsthand how essential mental health support is, especially for those navigating trauma. Managing my roles as a student and a mother has required careful planning, resilience, and a dedication to self-care. My days are filled with juggling assignments, study sessions, and quality time with my daughter. I’ve had to learn how to ask for help and lean into a support network when things get overwhelming. One of the most impactful changes in our lives has been the addition of a rescue Yorkie, Toby, whose calming presence has helped us both immensely. My hope is to raise funds to train him as a service dog to continue my journey of regaining independence. Toby’s companionship has been a daily reminder of resilience, encouraging me to stay grounded and focused on my goals. Every day, I am reminded that pursuing my education is not just about a degree; it’s about building a foundation for a future that reflects strength, hope, and purpose. I hope to show my daughter that perseverance can lead us to places we once thought unreachable and that education is a tool for creating positive change in the world. Receiving this scholarship would be an incredible support, enabling me to continue this journey and fulfill my goal of advocating for mental health and empowering others to overcome their own struggles. Thank you for the opportunity to share my story and for recognizing the resilience of mothers pursuing higher education.

My relationship with Buddhism has been a journey of self-discovery, resilience, and inner peace. As someone who has faced significant challenges, including trauma and a disabling neurological condition, Buddhist teachings have provided me with a pathway to healing and compassion. The principles of mindfulness, acceptance, and interconnectedness have helped me cope and empowered me to see life’s struggles as opportunities for growth. Buddhism has taught me that suffering can be transformed into wisdom and kindness, and this perspective has fundamentally shaped my approach to both my personal and professional life. My faith profoundly shapes my future goals and fuels my commitment to creating a compassionate, trauma-informed approach to mental health. I am pursuing a graduate degree in East-West Psychology because it prepares practitioners to work at the intersection of the world’s wisdom traditions and sacred practices, blending psychology and spirituality in a profoundly holistic way. This program aligns perfectly with my desire to advocate for mental health care that honors the mind, body, and spirit in unison. It reflects a vision of healing that moves beyond symptom management, embracing instead a full-spectrum understanding of human well-being that is deeply informed by spiritual principles. Inspired by Buddhism’s emphasis on compassionate service and mindful presence, I aim to serve as a psychospiritual practitioner who can bridge Eastern and Western approaches to healing. Through Buddhist practices, I’ve learned that true healing requires attention to the entire person—their traumas, beliefs, and individual journey. Buddhism emphasizes compassion, acceptance, and resilience, values that have helped me find peace in my own life and that I hope to embody as I support others in theirs. The East-West Psychology degree will equip me to bring these qualities into my work as I help individuals navigate their personal healing journeys. In advocating for trauma-informed mental health, I envision creating resources that not only provide psychological support but also honor spiritual growth and inner resilience. By integrating the teachings of Buddhism with the insights gained from this degree, I can develop a mental health practice that respects each person’s unique journey, making space for those who feel unseen or unsupported by conventional mental health systems. Ultimately, I hope to create a path for others to experience healing that is practical, profound, and grounded in the wisdom of multiple traditions. With my East-West Psychology training, I will bring traditional therapeutic techniques and spiritual practices into my community, offering tools that encourage a deeper understanding of self and a path to inner peace. This approach will empower individuals to reclaim their mental wellness and find meaning in their struggles, cultivating a compassionate, integrated model of mental health care that honors the complexity of the human experience.

Returning to college as a disabled mom, a PTSD survivor, and a passionate mental health advocate presents unique challenges, yet I step back into academia with both purpose and passion. My decision to pursue a Master's degree in East-West Psychology is deeply personal; I nearly lost my life due to the glaring gap in trauma-informed care within Western medicine. This experience ignited a fire within me to advocate for change and raise awareness about the critical importance of understanding the complexity of mental health. Pursuing my Bachelor's degree was a painful journey, shadowed by severe anxiety and periods of deep depression that often left me questioning my ability to continue. During this time, I also faced unimaginable personal loss when I became a widow. Grieving such a profound loss while trying to keep up with my studies brought my mental health to a breaking point; I attempted to take my own life. For decades, my mental health was always on the decline despite years of therapy and multiple attempts with medication. I felt trapped in a cycle that no conventional treatment could seem to break, leaving me feeling helpless and invisible within the system. My mental illness ruled my life, and doctors told me it would always be this way. Everything finally changed when I discovered that trauma fundamentally reshapes both our brain and body, requiring a completely different approach than the conventional understanding of mental illness. Healing must go deeper; it's not merely about managing stress or coping with life's challenges; it's about addressing the deep-rooted issues that shape our very existence. This understanding has changed my perspective on healing and recovery—it saved my life. I began integrating somatic healing, mindfulness practices, and self-care routines that go beyond conventional methods. These practices have enabled me to connect with my body and mind in ways I never thought possible. For the first time in my life, I found stability and joy—something that I couldn't have even dreamed possible before. One of the most transformative moments in my healing journey has been adopting a rescue Yorkie named Toby. He came into my life just as I was learning to walk again after enduring the challenges of my neurological disability. His companionship has become a steady source of peace and comfort, grounding me each day with his gentle presence and resilience. Walking him has evolved into a meditative ritual—a cherished moment each day where I can breathe, be present, and connect with the healing work I am undertaking. My hope is to raise funds to train Toby as a service dog, allowing me to continue my healing journey and eventually travel and speak as an advocate for trauma-informed healing and mental health awareness. As I further my study in the field of psychology, I aim to illuminate how trauma profoundly impacts mental health, particularly for those who, like me, often feel unseen by traditional approaches. Armed with a deeper resilience and a toolkit of practices that prioritize my mental wellness, I now approach my studies with renewed strength, focus, and excitement. My ultimate goal is to help create a future where mental health support acknowledges the impact of trauma and empowers survivors to heal in ways that honor their unique experiences. Pursuing this degree is not just a continuation of my healing journey but a vital step toward creating meaningful change for others. I am profoundly grateful for the opportunity to advocate for mental health in a way that resonates deeply with my journey and the journeys of countless others.

I vividly recall sitting in the counselor's office crying hysterically with tears running down my face, feeling helpless and alone—I was 12 years old. What set it off? At that moment, I didn't know. I couldn't tell the counselor why I was crying, so he sent me back to class. He didn't help me. It would take many years for me to realize how much the system failed me. Back in the 90s, mental illness wasn't something people talked about openly, and they had no clue what to do with a depressed and anxious kid like me. I can remember feeling like I wanted to die as young as six years old. I had plans to go into the woods and never come back. No child should ever feel that way... it all started because of the abuse and neglect. Childhood trauma's impact has stayed with me, and it didn't stop there. At 21, my best friend died in a car crash. Then, just two years later, I became a widow. After so much pain, my mental health spiraled, and I was ready to give up—consumed by grief and depression. I attempted suicide in 2013, and thankfully, I failed. It's been a decade of healing and learning how to navigate a less-than-perfect healthcare system. Doctors told me I would live with severe depression for the rest of my life, but they were wrong. When I started prioritizing my healing, I was determined to find a different approach. I wasn't willing to accept that medication and misery were my only options for the future. It's been a decade since then, and when I look back at who I was, I can hardly recognize myself—sad, broken, defeated, and hopeless. I found a holistic path to healing through therapy, medicine, functional medicine, neuroplasticity, and spirituality. I had to piece all of this together myself, and after struggling to find a holistic approach to mental health healing, I was inspired to create a program to ensure that others would not experience the same struggles. I embarked on building a business that provides a comprehensive path to mental health healing, specifically addressing trauma-induced mental health challenges. I decided to help mothers improve their mental health. Why moms? Women face many challenges daily, just navigating a world designed by and for men. And when you become a mom, you're not just responsible for your own well-being; you are also responsible for the health and well-being of your children. Yet, unfortunately, moms today don't have enough mental health resources and support, which has a ripple effect. When moms have good mental health, they can be more resilient and pass that on to their children. In other words, the well-being of moms is crucial to shaping the future of our society. Children deserve to have happy, fulfilled, resilient, and present moms. Yet, society and healthcare aren't helping us; they're actually doing more harm in ways. This revelation is why I became a vocal advocate for mental health awareness, support, and the need to improve mental health healing processes. It has become clear that the healthcare system lacks adequate long-term solutions for mental healthcare issues, which I have personally experienced. As a result of prolonged trauma and mental illness, I am now disabled with a neurological disorder, a constant reminder of the significant impact that trauma and abuse can have on both the mind and body. Each day, my unwavering commitment to raising awareness and advocating for change in mental health healing continues to drive me forward. This commitment is why I started sharing my journey with others to encourage them not to give up—you can read more on awakenedmomlife.com. I want to gain a deeper understanding of how to help others heal their mental health from prolonged abuse and trauma, and that's why I am pursuing a Master's degree in Neuroscience and Trauma. This education will help me better understand how to help others (like me) who have long endured mental illness and trauma. It will also make me a more powerful advocate for changing our mental healthcare system to end unnecessary suffering and prevent suicides. Because of my significant health and financial challenges this year, I am actively seeking scholarships to help me pursue my dreams. A recent diagnosis of PTSD, resulting from childhood trauma, has further compromised my mental and physical health, forcing me to leave my nearly two-decade career in marketing. I am now fully disabled and not able to work. But I'm determined to keep pushing forward. I know that my pain can serve a purpose to help so many others. It would be an honor for me to pay tribute to Sheri's legacy. Reading the eulogy you shared, she was clearly a wonderful and caring woman who loved you deeply. She was a soul lost too soon because of deep pain. I am moved by the line you quoted, "There are no real rules, so make rules that work for you." This adage precisely captures my approach to life as a mother with disabilities who is dedicated to raising awareness about the fractured mental health care system.

My future self is a global advocate and healer, empowering women worldwide to overcome the physical and emotional impact of trauma, drawing from my own journey as a survivor of childhood abuse and widowhood at a young age.

My journey to success has been far from easy. In 2010, I achieved a remarkable milestone—graduating with honors and earning a Bachelor's in Marketing. Now, as I think back, I'm amazed I even finished getting my undergraduate degree. You see, just like Patrick, my entire college career has been non-traditional too. From the start, I struggled deeply with depression and anxiety. My mental health forced me to leave college and transfer twice before finally graduating. But that wasn't even the most challenging part. The first of many tragedies stuck in 2006, when my best friend died suddenly in a car accident. She was only a few months away from finishing her degree at Ball State; she was 21. Her memory inspired me to push harder and strive for excellence. I was determined to honor her legacy by finishing my degree and graduating with honors, just like she would have. I was on track to graduate summa cum laude. However, life had other plans for me. In 2008, my world crashed around me when my fiancé was involved in a fatal car accident. He battled for two days in a coma, but ultimately, he died. The pain of losing him was unbearable and a significant setback for me. Somehow, I managed to finish my undergraduate degree even while planning his funeral and trying to piece my life back together. Unexpected turns in life can often lead us to places we never imagined. My personal healing journey has been no exception. In 2013, I found myself at a painful crossroads and attempted suicide. I am forever grateful that I survived and was given a second chance at life. Since that pivotal moment, I have faced many more challenges, including several autoimmune diseases and, most recently, a rare neurological disorder diagnosed in 2021. I am a disabled mother, wife, survivor, and fighter. Even though my experiences have been difficult, I have refused to let them define me. Instead, they have inspired me to keep pushing forward and to help others do the same. Through my healing journey, I realized how significant childhood trauma profoundly impacted my life. My struggles have given me a unique perspective and insight into the complexities of healing. I am committed to using my experiences to support and inspire others to find their path toward healing and wholeness. I am a lifelong learner, and in lieu of being able to return to school due to financial constraints, I have focused on self-study. I have been learning as much as possible about psychology, neuroscience, sociology, quantum physics, and medicine. After being laid off from my full-time marketing position this year, I decided it was time to pursue my passion. I am building a business called Awakened Mom Life Healing Academy. I aim to help women on their healing journey and provide them with the tools, resources, and support they need to overcome their trauma and move forward. My passion for learning and desire to serve others has inspired me to pursue a graduate degree in Neuroscience and Trauma. This degree will better equip me to help women navigate the complexities of healing and to provide them with the trauma-informed care and attention they deserve. Now, at 39, and after 13 years out of school, I am more determined than ever to continue my formal education. I want to inspire other women, including my daughter, to pursue their dreams and never give up on their aspirations. It would be such an honor to continue the legacy of Patrick Stanley through this Memorial Scholarship.

In 2008, a knock on the door changed my life; my world would never be the same again. It was a little after 10 pm on a hot, muggy July day. I lay on the couch, trying to cool down, and checked my phone repeatedly as I tried to distract myself by watching television. It had been a few hours since our fight. I replayed the conversation over and over in my head. "It's my day off; I just want to go for a while, and I want to take the jeep out," he said. "We haven't spent time together in a while; why can't you just stay home with me?" I implored him, but he was always the life of the party; he craved the energy of being surrounded by people. Suddenly, I heard a loud knock on the door. I was confused; who could be at the door at this hour? I opened the door to a police officer standing in the dimly lit hallway of my apartment building. Confused, I looked at him as he said somberly, "There's been an accident. He's been airlifted to the hospital." The jeep had flipped after he took a hill too fast. He was projected out of the vehicle without his seatbelt to protect him. The following few hours turned into a blur of days. I sat at his side for two days—singing softly into his ear and begging him not to leave me. Early Friday morning, July 4th, I held his hand close to mine as the doctors delivered the news we dreaded hearing. It was time to say goodbye; he was brain-dead. Two years before I sat at his bedside watching him drift away, Jason held my hand as I grieved the loss of my best friend. She was 22. I lost the only two people I genuinely connected with in less than two years. My world shattered. For most of my life, all I knew was pain & suffering—On New Year's Day, 2013, my life would change again. I woke up in a psychiatric ward after a failed suicide attempt. Oddly, it was there that I finally found hope & a sense of purpose. I embraced healing my heart—working through the pain of childhood trauma, becoming a widow, losing my best friends, sexual assault, and abuse. Today, I strive to honor the memories of Jason & Tiffany through an open mind, a full heart, and a refusal to give up. In 2021, I was diagnosed with a rare neurological condition (caused by trauma); in 2022, I was (finally) diagnosed with PTSD from childhood trauma. And I continue to fight, not only for me but for others. For the last five years, I've been working to build a business, a mental health hub for moms—Awakened Mom Life. Offering support, education, & resources to mothers healing from trauma and working through adversity. I am determined to share my story, inspire women, & break the cycles of trauma. Life is so short & precious, and suffering is too prevalent. I am fighting to bring awareness to childhood trauma and its tremendous impact on our physical, mental, and emotional health. I am fighting to improve the world for my daughter and all children who deserve to feel safe and loved. I will never quit.

In 2008, a knock on the door changed my life; my world would never be the same again. It was a little after 10 pm on a hot, muggy July day. I lay on the couch, trying to cool down, and checked my phone repeatedly as I tried to distract myself by watching television. It had been a few hours since our fight. I replayed the conversation over and over in my head. "It's my day off; I just want to go for a while, and I want to take the jeep out," he said. "We haven't spent time together in a while; why can't you just stay home with me?" I implored him, but he was always the life of the party; he loved being out and about. Suddenly, I heard a loud knock on the door. I was confused; who could be at the door at this hour? I opened the door to a police officer standing in the dimly lit hallway of my apartment building. I looked at him with confusion as he said somberly, "There's been an accident. He's been airlifted to the hospital." The jeep had flipped after he took a hill too fast. He was projected out of the vehicle without his seatbelt to protect him. The following few hours turned into a blur of days. I sat next to the bedside and held his bandaged hand. Every inch of his body seemed covered with bandages, gauze, tubing, and medical tape. The machines keeping him alive beeped and hummed around us. I sat at his side for two days—singing softly into his ear and begging him not to leave me. In the years we grew to love each other, he sang to me often, "you are my sunshine, my only sunshine..." it always made my heart swell with love when he sang to me. "You make me happy when skies are gray. You'll never know, dear, how much I love you." I now sang in a whisper next to his head. "Please don't take my sunshine away." Early Friday morning, July 4th, I held his hand close to mine; my head was lying on his chest when I saw the doctors enter the room. The family gathered around his bed as the doctors delivered the news we dreaded hearing. It was time to say goodbye; he was brain-dead. Two years before I sat at his bedside watching him drift away, Jason held my hand as I grieved the loss of my best friend. She was 22, with hopes and dreams that also never came true. In less than two years, I lost the only two people with whom I genuinely connected. My world shattered. My heartfelt, irreparably broken beyond repair. For most of my life, all I knew was pain and suffering. On New Year's Day of 2013, my life would change again. I woke up in a psychiatric ward after a failed suicide attempt. Unbeknownst to me, that hospital stay would set my trajectory to healing. I finally found hope and a sense of purpose. I embraced healing my broken heart—Working through the pain of childhood trauma, becoming a young widow, losing my best friends, sexual assault, and abuse. It's been 15 years since I sat at his bedside and said goodbye. And while the grief of losing him isn't debilitating anymore, I still miss him every day. But I look back fondly and remember his big personality and love for life. Jason and Tiffany taught me to embrace life, live fully, and never back down—I strive daily to honor their memories. In 2021, I was diagnosed with a rare neurological condition (caused by trauma); in 2022, I was (finally) diagnosed with CPTSD from childhood trauma. And I continue to fight, not only for me but for others. For the last five years, I've been working to build a business, a mental health hub for moms—Awakened Mom Life. Offering support, education, and resources to mothers healing from trauma. I am determined to share my story, inspire women, and break the cycles of trauma. Life is so short and precious, and suffering is too prevalent. I am fighting to bring awareness to childhood trauma and its tremendous impact on our physical, mental, and emotional health. I am fighting to improve the world for my daughter and all children who deserve to feel safe and loved. I will never quit. The Cat Zingano Scholarship would support my dream of pursuing a graduate degree in neuroscience and trauma—to continue learning how to serve trauma survivors better. This scholarship would help me continue to fight to make the world a better place.

"For years, I fully embraced the role of a victim in my situation. So when I became a young widow in my early 20s, I nearly gave up—I attempted to take my life. " Life isn't always easy, yet that always felt like an understatement for me. As a survivor of childhood trauma, pain felt like a requirement for life. The physical pain and emotional suffering I felt when I was barely in middle school always seemed inevitable. I knew I was different, and I desperately tried to hide it. At 5'10, with a slight frame of 140 pounds, I looked like a normal and healthy teenager. But, I had to work diligently to hide the unbearable pain I faced daily. I dreaded those hot summer days that most teens look forward to. Going to the amusement park with friends was a recipe for disaster because, with every step I would take, my feet, legs, back, and neck ached. I felt alone and misunderstood. I didn't get my first official medical diagnosis until my early twenties. Then the list continued to grow—Hashimoto's thyroiditis, endometriosis, fibromyalgia, IBS, Excema, Major Depression, Social Anxiety, and a neurological disorder (to name a few). My life has always revolved around my poor health, from autoimmune diseases to chronic pain and illness. For years, I fully embraced the role of a victim in my situation. The abuse of childhood had worn me down. So when I became a young widow in my early 20s, I nearly gave up—I attempted to take my life. Every day, I am glad that I failed. On that day in 2013, in the hospital, I met a nurse who gave me hope. She changed the trajectory of my life forever. I am a survivor, a fighter, and an advocate. Living with an autoimmune disease used to define me; I felt weak and ashamed. My long list of illnesses followed me around like a plague that I was desperate to hide. Today, I speak openly about my autoimmune disorders and actively educate others. I am proud of the struggles that have made me who I am today. Growing research shows a strong correlation between autoimmune disease and childhood trauma—I am committed to bringing more awareness to this topic. Currently, I am building a business supporting mothers healing from childhood trauma. I provide education, support, and resources on living with autoimmune diseases and mental health support. My struggles have taught me resilience, tenacity, and the value of every moment. I want to share these lessons with others who have struggled and continue to suffer so that I may inspire them to embrace their potential. It would be a privilege to use the Chronic Boss Scholarship to further my work in supporting women in overcoming autoimmune diseases and childhood trauma. Currently, I am pursuing my Master's in Psychology and Trauma to understand further how the body manifests trauma and find new ways to support women.

"The relationship between my father and I hangs by a thread, breaking my heart into a million pieces." As a child, I was so proud of my Marine father. One of my fondest memories with him was living on the base near Parris Island in South Carolina. Each day, he would come home in uniform and often bring home gear—including his gas mask, which surprisingly made my brother and I, giggle as children. As a little girl, I remember sitting on his lap, my dress draped over my legs, looking at him with such adoration. Those moments of happiness and laughter were few and far between. My father grew up in poverty and joined the military out of necessity. Over time, his patriotism grew, yet so did his temper. His time in the service fueled the anger within him—the constant threat of war, the demands of his squad, and a young family at home. The rage he felt bottled up and spewed out like a volcano. The PTSD my father experienced from his service has lasted a lifetime. The last time I saw my father, his booming voice yelled at me, "they taught me to use my anger to kill." Even writing that sentence brings me to tears, as I can feel his anger. His PTSD has led to my PTSD, a generation of trauma passed down. I have had to limit contact with him because the pain of his anger has been too much to bear. I had to draw the line when his anger escalated to violence. My father, who deep down is a loving, caring, and gentle soul—tried to kill a dog in front of my daughter. As an adult, I can see the constant battle brewing inside him. As his daughter, I cry tears yearning for the man I know is deep beneath the suffering. The relationship between my father and I hangs by a thread, breaking my heart into a million pieces. As a veteran with PTSD, he is afraid to ask for help. The military taught him that being vulnerable is weak, yet it's the lifeline to saving him. The narrative needs to shift, and I aim to do that. Veterans not only sacrifice their time and energy for our country, it often comes at a very high price of sacrificing their mental health. I have spent the last decade healing my CPTSD, and it's given me a unique perspective on how to help others. I have learned that by being vulnerable first, you can open the hearts of many. I am working to build a business helping women thrive after trauma. Ultimately, I want to share my story on stages worldwide to inspire hope. I want Veterans to know they aren't alone, and I want them to know that healing is possible. As a suicide attempt survivor and vocal supporter of mental health, I am committed to using my story to bring more awareness to Veterans, PTSD, childhood trauma, and trauma-informed care. Currently, I am pursuing my Master's in Neuroscience and Trauma. It would be a privilege to honor Bryent's memory with this scholarship as I seek to help Veterans with PTSD.