My dream and calling in life is to know God and make God known. I have many goals in life, such as becoming an accountant, opening up my own pottery studio, traveling the world, and starting a family. However, nothing truly matters as much to me as fulfilling what Jesus has called me to do, which is to make Him known to the nations. At the end of my life, I will not think about how many countries I traveled to or how high my net worth was, but I will reflect on God’s purpose for me and how well I served others. Going to college will support this dream of mine because I will learn more about myself and who God has called me to be, but also more about Him and how to share the Gospel with others. I am currently an undergraduate student at Seattle Pacific University and I have just finished my first quarter at the school. SPU is a Christian university, and one of the classes that I am required to take is called Christian Scripture, which is all about the Bible. In taking this class, I learned so much about the history of Christianity, how the Bible came to be, how to read it, and what exactly the biblical storyline is. This class helped me grow in my faith immensely because now know how to read scripture in context and as a result, I have gained so much knowledge about God and His character. In order to share Jesus with others, I have to be knowledgeable myself so that I can answer their questions and defend the faith as well. Although the rest of my classes are not based solely on faith and Christianity, I still get to learn about the world through a Christian perspective. For example, my financial accounting class stressed the importance of integrity because accountants are responsible for reporting correct and accurate financial information. We learned a lot about accounting fraud and how eventually, lies will always get exposed. In all of my classes, I am encouraged to think about how the course content ties into my faith. Not only will college be an important educational experience for me, but it will also be a means for me to meet both believers and non-believers. It is not a requirement to be a Christian to attend Seattle Pacific University and that means that there is a lot of religious diversity on campus. I have been able to interact with people from all walks of life and I am excited to be obedient to God’s voice and plant seeds of faith in people by sharing God’s word with them. There is nothing I love more than talking about God! In conclusion, my dream is to be used by God to share the Gospel of Jesus Christ and live into my calling. My purpose is to serve others, and I believe that college will help me because I will learn about the world, my place in it, and God’s role in all creation.

Walking up the endless stairs at Seattle Pacific University with a burrito made of chilaquiles con huevo in my hand, I was struck by the magnitude of the moment. There I was, a first-generation Mexican-American on a predominantly white university campus with a breakfast made by my mother at 4 am before heading to work with my dad. In that instant, I was reminded of all of the challenges and struggles that my parents and I faced to make my education possible. As I headed to the commuter lounge to heat my burrito before going to a group study meeting, my heart was filled with overwhelming gratitude. I am passionate about being a first-generation Mexican-American student because my graduation will be the culmination and fruition of many sacrifices, hard work, and determination. It is with guilt and inspiration that I have watched my parents wake up at 4 am to commute an hour and a half every day to their jobs. Their work ethic has inspired mine and it is through them that I learned that with hard work and ambition, anything is possible. Working the moment I turned 16, late nights studying to maintain a high GPA, playing volleyball, and endlessly volunteering all in the hopes of getting into a university. I am determined to make the most out of my education and take advantage of every opportunity available to me. I currently work as an accounting assistant and although it is challenging to balance school and work, I know it'll be worth it in the long run. As a Mexican-American, I grew up being at a crossroads between my two identities. My collectivistic Mexican upbringing clashed with my individualistic American environment and I felt that I was "ni de aquí y ni de allá". I remember wishing my family could be “normal” and I wondered why we didn’t wear cashmere sweaters and eat steak and salad every night like the Americans on TV. I resented that other kids had parents who could speak English and that they didn't have to act the adult by interpreting and thus growing up too fast as a result of these responsibilities. I can also count on my fingers the number of times I tried to ask my parents for help with my homework (three times). I so desperately wanted to be a kid who could rely on their parents and ask them for help instead of having it be the other way around. But by wanting so much to be “normal”, I ignored the beauty of my cultural upbringing and how it has shaped who I am today. Instead of complaining about my circumstances like I used to, I have realized that all of these experiences have given me valuable skills and lessons that I can use in the workplace, at school, in life, and to help other people. I am fiercely independent, resourceful, self-driven, empathetic, caring, and resilient. These characteristics are the reason that I will graduate with honors, get a good job, and make my parents as proud of me as I am of them. They are my biggest supporters and I will make their sacrifices worth it. Getting to graduate university when my parents did not even finish middle school is a blessing I do not take lightly. Just like my parents have worked hard so that me and my siblings would not have to face the struggles that they did, I will also do the same for my future children. Being a first-generation Mexican-American student is difficult, but it has become my greatest strength.

Look up at the clouds. Among the cumulus puffs and the cirrus wisps, there is probably a brown-haired sphere floating around aimlessly. That is my head. Growing up, there was never more than a week or two that went by where I wouldn't hear my mom say "saca tu cabeza de las nubes!" ("get your head out of the clouds!"). It's not my fault I couldn't hear her talking to me when I was too busy thinking about my kid responsibilities and other existential wonderings. With a head as big as mine, it can be hard to quiet down the constant drone of my thoughts and internal monologue. I am a quiet person on the outside, but it's as though there is a concert going on in my head 24/7. My lips stay still but my mind never does. When I am inevitably tired of the mental noise that my ears cannot physically hear, I have a few tricks up my sleeve that helps clear my mind and bring me back to Earth. To start my descent from the clouds, I find that opening my eyes brings me back to the present. It sounds odd, but the physical feeling of briefly widening my eyelids and moving around my eyeballs is a trigger for me to practice mindfulness. What can I see, hear, feel, taste, and smell? It's as though I'm stepping out of my thoughts and into the world again. Something absolutely amazing I have recently discovered is brown noise. It sounds a little bit different to everybody but to me it sounds like I'm riding in a car and the only noise is the sound of the wheels rotating thousands of times on the road. I can best describe it as a loud silence that fills and weighs down my head so much that it can't float back up to the white puffs in the sky. Even better than brown noise, is exercise. I love to go on runs and walks through my neighborhood because I am moving my body and appreciating nature all at once. Every beat of my heart and endorphin released makes it so that it is almost the perfect recipe for ultimate stress relief. I would say that running is more of a slower descent from the clouds, as if I am coming down to Earth by taking the stairs. Best of all, is God. Praying and journaling clears up my mind like absolutely nothing else in this world. If exercise is a slow descent from the sky for, talking to the Creator of the universe is like I'm skydiving 100mph out of the clouds, into reality, and into a nice pool of supernatural peace that surpasses all understanding. Writing down my thoughts and prayers is a way of physically recording what is going on inside my 3-ish lb brain and allows me to let it all out. I know that I can cast my worries unto Him and He won't just listen, but he will help and guide me. I am eternally grateful that although I can help clear my mind in many different ways, God is always there for me whether I am on the ground or in the sky. He is with me on the days when my head is full of pretty and puffy cauliflower-looking cumulus clouds and when there is a thunderstorm going on too. Rain or shine, He is with me through it all.

Like a constant shadow hovering over me, mental health has played a major role in my life, present even before I knew that the words mental and health existed. Growing up, it was normal to hear about a cousin being admitted to the hospital again, see my mom laying in bed for days on end, and visit family members whose smiles didn’t quite reach their eyes. As I got older, I began to connect the dots, and I learned that depression and anxiety run in my family. On October 6th, 2018 I received a phone call that would change my life forever. Sitting at the edge of my bed happily watching Shane Dawson and Jake Paul on my phone, I internally groaned when I saw that I was getting a call from my cousin in California, Jenny. I didn't want to answer because I didn't have the social energy to chat, but something told me I should pick up anyway. "Holaaaaaaa Jennyyyyy," I said in forced and chipper enthusiasm. Right away, I knew something was wrong because instead of her usual happy greeting, her voice was shaky and tainted with tears as she asked me if I knew where my mom was. With a sinking feeling in my stomach, I asked what was wrong and she choked on her words when she told me that her dad had shot himself. My memories of this period in my life are few and far in between, but I will never forget feeling the pure shock and grief hitting me so hard that I felt winded and instantly lightheaded. I will forever remember laying down and being unable to move until my family got home. Then, seeing my mom being dragged up the stairs because she was almost passing out from despair. Catching a glimpse of my older brother, who never cries, shedding silent tears while staring up at the ceiling. My mom again, asking me to stay with her in the bedroom while she cried for hours because she didn't want to be alone. Flying to California for the funeral. The permanent lump in my throat and pool of tears behind my eyes that were ready to flood at any given moment. Holding Jenny’s hand while we walked up to the casket together because she could not bear to do it alone. My aunt’s wails when the casket was closed forever. Oftentimes I can't help but wonder what could we have done for my uncle. We all knew that he was struggling but we were unaware to what extent. I wish I could say that my uncle's death has helped remove some of the stigmas around asking for help and sharing out, but it hasn't. Even with mental illness being so prevalent in my family, instead of reaching out to each other in support and resilience, it is as though everyone is suffering alone. They take their pills in silence, if at all, and throw away empty bottles of alcohol in secret. It frustrates me that "cómo estás?" is only asked with a surface-level intention. It's infuriating that when I ask my mom if she's okay because I see her crying, that she gets mad at me and sends me away. How many more people do we have to lose before something changes for the better? My own experiences with mental illness started when I was in elementary school. I was always a very nervous kid, far beyond what was normal for an eight-year-old. Now as an 18-year-old, I know that the almost debilitating nerves that plague my existence is called anxiety. The overwhelming feelings of worthlessness, apathy, and fatigue are not sadness, but depression. However, unlike the rest of my family, I have found healing, solace, and joy in Jesus Christ. Two years ago, I gave my life to Christ and I have been changed ever since. I still struggle with mental illness, but I know that God is the answer to absolutely everything. My family knows of God, but they do not know Him personally. I am working on breaking generational curses in my family and sharing the love of God with them. I truly believe that God has planted me in this family and allowed me to go through certain experiences so that I can help my family draw nearer to Him. My experiences with loss, mental health, and faith have shaped me into who I am today, influenced who I want to become, and inspired what I want to do. Like many people, my uncle Carlitos battled with depression and anxiety for years. He took his medications but in the end, it was not enough. I want to help people fight the battle that so many don't get to win. Too many families are burying their loved ones far too soon, and so many children are growing up without both of their parents. In the future, I am planning to become a Marriage and Family Therapist. I wish I could share my faith with future clients but that could raise ethical concerns. However, becoming a therapist will still provide me with the knowledge, training, and opportunities to help people cope with their problems and navigate their issues in any way that I can. I also believe that suicide prevention does not start and end with therapy and medication. What are the environmental and familial factors that are causing suicide rates to increase? What can we do as a society to help communities and individuals? It is also my goal to research these questions and take action because suicide prevention is not just about pills and talk sessions, but community, family, love, and most importantly, God.

In our consumerist society, it's easy to lose sight of what we already have for what we desperately want. I get so caught up in the products I want to buy, clothes I want to wear, and places I want to go that I forget I already have everything I need and more. Taking the time to think about all of my blessings fills me with overwhelming gratitude and brings me to tears. I am so blessed to have a roof over my head, food in my stomach, breath in my lungs, and family in my life. Most of all, I am extremely grateful for life itself. Life is so fragile, here one moment but gone in the next. I try my best to never take anything for granted and to appreciate everything I have or don't have. The way that I live with gratitude is by giving. The more I have, the more that I have to share. Whether it be knowledge, money, love, or any other resources, I want to help out my neighbors in any way that I can. It's the least that I could do when God has blessed me with so much.

Patchouli, oud, ambergris, vanilla, saffron, jasmine, wisteria, tonka bean, and fig. All of these are some popular fragrance notes that I can list just off the top of my head. My love for perfume started in December of 2020 when I opened my mom's Christmas gift to me and unearthed Carolina Herrera's Good Girl Supreme. After just one look at the sparkly stilletto-shaped bottle and a sniff of its sweet berry vanilla fragrance, I was obsessed. When I like something, I like to watch Youtube videos about other people raving about it too. That is how I came across Rhonda Lareese, and how I was introduced to the Youtube perfume community and the world of Fragrantica. I love learning about, collecting, and wear perfume because it's more than just an accessory, it's an experience.The first perfume I bought for myself when I started collecting was called Tommy Girl. It is a citrusy white floral scent that's been adored for 26 years now. I have since sold it because I never really wore it, but I initially bought it due to nostalgic purposes. I remember smelling it in 2018 while I was in Mexico, and it brought back memories I didn't even know I had. Then, when I smelled it again in 2020, I was instantly transported to the black truck ride, the striped shirt, and that sunny day back in 2018. This is what I love the most about fragrance; they have the power to store memories. When I smell Burberry Her or Glossier You in the future, I know that I will be reminded of all the days that made up my junior and senior year of high school. Every bottle I own is a time capsule in it's own way, preserving a memory one spritz at a time.

Sometimes life can just be too much. Too many deadlines to meet, responsibilities to fulfill, issues to solve, and decisions to make. When I start getting so overwhelmed that my room is a mess, my car needs quite a bit TLC, and I'm stuck in survival mode, I like to go outside. Cleaning, utilizing my planner, and exercising are all ways that help me relax and destress, but nothing works quite as well as simply leaving the confines of my house. Gazing up at the sky after hours of looking down at a screen rests not only my neck but my mind and my spirit. I've also recently discovered that taking off my shoes and standing barefoot on the grass is incredibly therapeutic for me. Feeling the grass beneath my feet takes me back to summer days and nights during my childhood. The times when my cousins and I would run around our yard until the soles of our feet were brown. I lived with my cousins growing up and we had a big yard with a small hill, a trampoline, and a park right at the center of our cul-de-sac. This means that we were always playing outside and as a result, I feel at home when I’m in nature. It takes me back to when the days were simpler and my smiles came easier. My self-care does not have to consist of bubble baths in candlelight and face masks galore to be effective.The simple pleasure of breathing fresh air scented with evergreen trees grounds me, both figuratively and literally. Bouncing around on the green earth in my backyard is a great reminder that life does not have to be so complicated all of the time. I am learning to enjoy the present, one barefoot step at a time.

I have known myself for 18 years, but I've only appreciated myself for three, and I'm still on the path to actually loving who I am. My journey of self-love and discovery has not been easy, but it's been incredibly rewarding. The most valuable thing that I have learned about myself is that I am the type of person that cares a lot. I care about others, about doing the right thing, making wise decisions, and living my life in a way that I will not regret when I'm 78. For the longest time, I used to be jealous of people who are able to go with the flow, take things as they come, and easily fail if they fall short. I didn't understand why they were not concerned about the consequences of driving recklessly, failing classes, and knowingly making bad decisions. I tried to be like those people, but I am too much of a planner and Type A personality to genuinely do so. In other words, I failed at failing. Although caring too much can be stressful and draining, I credit all of my successes to this trait of mine. I love it when people tell me I should become a nurse because I have that aura about me, and it is so rewarding when my hard work comes to fruition because of my careful thought and planning. I have learned that what I previously thought was a weakness, is actually one of my greatest strengths. Most importantly, I have also learned how to truly be myself.

When thinking of my response to this question, a flood of different ideas and images came to mind. I could go with the very true (but very obvious) "family, friends, food, fun, and faith" route, but instead, I am going to appreciate that what makes me happy are Korean dramas. I am Mexican, and I grew up watching telenovelas every weeknight with my family in our cozy living room. I would eagerly anticipate the next "capitulo" because I just HAD to find out if Teresa was going to marry Maximiliano, or if Fanny was going to be caught by her dad. However, in the summer of 2018, my cousin uttered a sentence that would change my life forever. She asked "have you ever watched a Korean drama?" and from then on, I have been hooked. K-dramas are unlike any shows I have ever watched before. Not only are the storylines unique and well-thought-out, but I also get to enjoy learning about a culture and language that I previously knew nothing about. I find solace in curling up on the couch with my dog at my feet and tv remote in hand, ready to watch an episode after a long (and often stressful) day. Rarely does a show ever make me cackle as hard as "True Beauty" did, or make me cry as much as "It's Okay to Not Be Okay". I find myself relating to characters, learning from their mistakes, and healing along with them; it's a form of therapy for me. I'm incredibly grateful that I got past my former aversion to subtitles, and that I said yes to a genre of entertainment that helped me get through some of the darkest and most challenging times of my life.

Long before I knew what was mental health was, mental illness had already infiltrated every part of my life. It was normal to hear about a cousin being admitted to the hospital again, see my mom laying in bed for days on end, and visit family members whose smiles didn’t quite reach their eyes. As I got older, I began to connect the dots, and I learned that depression and anxiety run in my family. My own experiences with mental health started when I was in elementary school. I was always a very nervous kid, far beyond what was normal for an eight-year-old. Now as an 18-year-old, I know that the almost debilitating nerves that plague my existence is called anxiety. The overwhelming feelings of worthlessness, apathy, and fatigue are not sadness, but depression. In my freshman year of high school, I lost my uncle to suicide, and it changed my life forever. Although that time in my life is clouded with fuzzy memories that my brain tries to protect me from, I will never forget the phone call, seeing my mom come home almost passing out from despair, and the cries of my newly-widowed aunt right before the casket was closed forever. I remember feeling scared that my uncle’s death would trigger another one of my family members, and I prayed that my mom would not do the same and leave us too. I wish I could say that everything got a lot better from there on out, but it did not. It is safe to say that my freshman, sophomore, and junior years of high school were truly amongst the worst in my life. To make matters worse, the isolation and confinement from the initial COVID-19 quarantine was almost unbearable. I almost lost my former best friend to suicide, and then entered an (unbeknownst to me) abusive relationship. I didn’t know at first that my relationship was unhealthy, but I didn't understand why I constantly felt sad, on edge, and why my appetite would disappear every time I would get into an argument. The other person made me question myself and made me feel as though everything that was going wrong was my fault. It wasn’t until I found myself isolated from all of my friends and family that I realized I had to get out. I was able to leave the relationship with the help of my family and friends. From this experience, I'm thankful that I learned about the importance of healthy relationships and having a support system. One of my favorite quotes is “without sadness, there can be no happiness” by John Whiteman. Had I not experienced all of this pain, I wouldn't be able to appreciate the life I have now. Going through all of these things has made me a much stronger person, mentally and emotionally. The resilience I gained from facing all those obstacles has given me the drive to seek out challenges and chase meaning, not comfort. They have helped me to find my calling to become a Marriage and Family Therapist. As an MFT, I want to help people improve their lives and foster healthy relationships. Humans are not meant to be alone, we were created for community.