I’ve been working for years to cultivate resilience. When I was applying to colleges in high school, I knew that UCSD was my dream school, but I was so afraid that rejection would ruin me that I didn’t even apply. My college experience has been one with many challenges— since the fall of my freshman year, I’ve been through three undergraduate colleges, two community colleges, three hospitals, and four different treatment centers. This is my story of resilience.

When I left the hospital and arrived at my first residential eating disorder facility, the psychiatrist told me that some people are destined to end up with anorexia. They are perfectionists, detail-oriented, and humble. They are steadfast, high-achieving, and ultimately, they lead to their own demise. Suddenly, the character traits that I was most proud of were a punishment. I was forced to do what I spent years fearing most: eat. My meals were timed, so I couldn’t possibly use ritualistic behaviors to slow the process down. If I stubbornly refused food, I would have a feeding tube forced inside of me. If I held back emotionally, I would only be kept in treatment longer. I did all that I knew how to do— I performed. I showed everyone that I would do whatever it took to get back to school, and that my grasp on food was not as strong as my desire to recover. The problem was that I didn’t really believe it myself.

I began a cycle of returning to school and the comfort of restriction, then being ripped away in order to save my life. The sicker I got, the more clarity I gained. I realized in my junior year, as I spent Thanksgiving and Christmas away from my family and friends in a residential treatment center, that I never had the control I desired. My eating disorder always had control over me.

I made the choice to enter into a treatment center on my own, and through some of the most difficult experiences of my life, I continued to show up. I graduated from treatment 18 months later into a world that was harder to live in than before because, for the first time, I was actually looking out at what was in front of me.

I knew that I wanted to apply to UCSD from the moment I began planning my life worth living. Letting myself hope for a future at UCSD was what got me through every difficult moment I faced. I enrolled at MiraCosta College and spent a year working through the general education requirements that I would need as a transfer. I was active in my outpatient treatment, where I faced midterms, finals, and the real world without using my eating disorder to cope.

I was admitted into UCSD for the Fall 2020 quarter. I’ve become more familiar with the woman that I am separate from the eating disorder, and I am so proud of her. I have come from tears, I have come from despair, I have come from the doubt of those around me. I have arrived at hope. If you would’ve asked me at the beginning of college if I’d post a video of myself trying out painting while I told my life story, I would’ve told you that you had the wrong person. I have taught myself that I can take risks and achieve greatness when I, as my whole self, put my mind to something. I have fallen, and I have gotten back up. That is resilience.

I thought that it would be worth noting that I had imagined three canvases, each to be dedicated to a person that guided me to resilience. “Trust” is dedicated to my primary therapist, Allison, for giving me a reason to trust. “Listen” is dedicated to my somatic therapist, Catherine, for listening to my body before I knew how to. “Nourish” is dedicated to my dietitian, Kourtney, for teaching me that nourishment is my key to the world. Without them, I would not be here to tell my story.