Cindy T.
Photography by Cat White
If you’re reading this, your story matters.
Walking to class this morning, I catch myself reflecting upon the faces that I pass by. Noticing that girl who’s rushing past me in hasty steps, or the man who’s motioning me in the direction of the bus with a shy smile, or the faculty member that’s walking while rocking a fashionable pair of sunglasses.
Most of the time, my mind is preoccupied with my own thoughts (OIIA OIIA), but there are other times I can’t help but wonder “What’s led them to that current moment? Who are they? What’s their story?” My curiosity likes to go running like a woman screaming in flip flops, until it’s time to sit down for class.
Hi, I’m Cindy. I love penguins and Pompompurin. I also love to sing! And so like, why do I want to know your story? Well, because of mine. I grew up a daughter of Vietnamese refugees and immigrants. Intergenerational trauma is the transmission of trauma effects across multiple generations. For 20 years of my life, I endured a household that never quite left the war.
However, what left a lasting impact on me was the way people I knew and loved were affected by their mental health struggles. I’ve experienced loss, crisis, and lots of pain from unaddressed and stigmatized mental health issues in my inner circle and community. For 5 years of my teenage years, my grief from loss and growing pains as a little Viet girl remained unsaid.
Back in high school, if you were to tell me that I’d be achieving things that I could’ve only dreamed of within the next 5 years, I would’ve given you a slow pan awkward smile “okay.” It was one decision that changed the trajectory of my life, and that was letting myself feel vulnerable and uncomfortable to share what I had been struggling with for so long. It felt like I was free to be me again.
I started my college journey at community college, a place where I unexpectedly found some lifetime friends and grew confidence in my story. I found that I can take space, that I deserve to be heard, and that I matter. I discovered so many different but enlightening people there that grew my world and helped me figure out my passions.
After community college, I transitioned to UVA as a nursing transfer student. At first, it was difficult since I thought I was too different, along with my many other identities. Although soon, I realized that the people here all have beautiful stories and that I contribute to that as part of the student body. Now, things are feeling even better than 24… it’s feelin’ 25!
Throughout my college years, I’ve dedicated my educational journey and career to mental health. For the ones that I’ve lost, the ones who are currently going through it, or the ones that I’ll encounter in the future, I want you to know that I’m here for you. That includes you too, reader! Choosing to be vulnerable can unironically feel empowering.
Now why do I care? Other than the fact that mental health has always impacted me throughout my life, I remembered how little me always did the most to make someone smile. As soon as I could remember living, I enjoyed helping people. Not to toot my own horn but I won an award for being caring in pre-school so obviously... it’s destiny. Like I do care that you broke your elbow!
My passion is to help and care for those around me. The stories that I have encountered throughout my life and will encounter in my future mental health career give me the most fulfillment because they all have deeply impacted me too. They also give me hope that we can heal through just simple human connection.
Thank you to all the wonderful human beings that shared their story, as it helped me shape mine. Throughout my time at UVA, your stories helped me feel closer to the community here. I wish for my story to inspire the next person, as well as make them feel further grounded here (no pun intended). I hope you enjoyed meeting me, reader.
If you’re reading this, maybe there were times you felt like you didn’t matter. That feeling just sucks. During times like those, I hope you get to know your story and never let it go. Your story is like your support plushie on a bad day. A reminder of why you’re here. Hold onto that story because someday, maybe someone would like to hear it.
It’s 2:05PM, class is over and so it’s onto the next. In the middle of a long day, my mind wanders once again, but every now and then on days I feel down, I like to remind myself why I’m here. Who I am, my story, and all the past, present, and future people in my life that encourages me to keep going.
Lastly, if you haven’t noticed already, I sprinkled in a couple of memes throughout my letter (because that’s how I cope, haha). Go live, laugh, love, Reader and I hope you have a nice rest of your day.
Cindy T., University of Virginia
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