All my life I've been quiet. Even around friends, I became much more shy in my later years of high school as I became more conscious of my voice. Then, I met a boy. He's a pretty standard rich white boy, nothing about him out of the ordinary, just your typical smart kid. We talked online a lot due to the distance between us (we went to different schools 30 minutes away) and one day, I told him about my stutter. He told me he doesn't care and that means nothing to him, he still accepts me for me and this condition doesn't change any of that. When he said that, I actually cried and knew he was the one. Three years later, we're still going strong and he never assumes words, answers questions for me, anything. He is patient with my blocks and doesn't say anything until I finish speaking because he knows how hard this is for me and how others treat me because of this condition. Now that we are at college together, he introduced me to his friend group and they have all been so welcoming of me and my stutter. I've never been in a friend group where I feel so comfortable before and I'm so glad I have all of these people in my life. Now that I have a positive environment around me, I've been able to succeed so much. I'm on the e-board of a pre-med club that means a lot to me, I'm involved in a bunch of clubs, I'm in a research lab that really interests me, and Ivolunteer regularly on and off campus. I am doing so much to achieve my goals of MD/ PhD in genetics and it's all because I will not let my stutter stop me from succeeding. Whether that is academically, socially, financially, or mentally, I don't let it get in the way. My stutter is not mild at all: I stutter extremely frequently and it is not anxiety or anything, just bad genetics (my dad also stutters). The fact I'm able to achieve so much this early on makes me so hopeful of the positive future I have and the impact I have on the world. Of course having a stutter holds me back at times, like not saying "have a nice day" to professors as I leave class because I can't get the words out, but I count every time I speak as a victory. The fact I'm able to talk and embrace my voice is enough for me to be proud of who I am.