Finding My Voice by Layla

Finding My Voice by Layla - May 2026 Scholarship Essay

One challenge I used to find really intimidating was asking for help and talking about what I was going through. Growing up in a single parent household and spending part of my childhood in foster care, I got used to dealing with things on my own. My mom struggles with bipolar disorder, and because she doesn’t always take her medication, she hasn’t always been present in my life. There were times it was hard to even have a normal conversation with her, which made me feel like I had to rely on myself. Because of that, I didn’t trust that talking to people would actually help. I just kept everything in and acted like I was fine.

That started catching up to me after a while. I deal with anxiety and I overthink a lot, so keeping everything in just made it worse. Things that were small would turn into something way bigger in my head, and sometimes I would just feel overwhelmed or kind of numb. I didn’t talk about it though. I didn’t want people to think I couldn’t handle things, so I just kept it to myself.

When I first started therapy, I didn’t really take it seriously. I honestly thought it was kind of pointless. Just sitting there talking about my feelings felt awkward, and I didn’t think it was going to do anything. I remember thinking, “this isn’t going to help.” For a while I barely opened up and just gave short answers. It took time before I actually started talking for real.

When I first started therapy I didn’t really take it seriously. I thought it was kind of pointless, like just talking about stuff wasn’t going to fix anything. It felt awkward just sitting there. I didn’t say much at first, mostly short answers. I remember thinking the whole time that it wasn’t going to help me at all. So I didn’t really try.

After some time though, it started to feel a little different. Not all at once, just small things. Saying things out loud made it feel less stuck in my head. I wasn’t overthinking as much after. I started understanding what I was actually feeling instead of just ignoring it or pushing it away. It wasn’t perfect, but it was something.

Now it doesn’t feel the same as it did before. I still struggle sometimes, but I don’t just shut down like I used to. I’ll talk or ask for help, even if I don’t want to. It doesn’t fix everything, but it helps me deal with it better. Looking back, it’s weird because I really didn’t believe in it at first. Now it just feels normal to me.